Category: The Me stuff

Disappointment

You know, I get very annoyed.

I have had a standing fight about my cell phone account since the middle of JUNE.  11 WEEKS.  They finally seem to have resolved it today and allegedly paid money into my bank account, but only after a little snarky comment on twitter.  I am mentally tapping my foot.

And then I’m going through my bank account.  I mean ‘going through my bank account’ in the loose sense of the word as there hasn’t been much activity in, well, a long time. (I’m much better at denial).  So imagine my surprise when I see duplicate charges on my account.  Every time I draw money, the exact same amount is drawn, but under a different merchant.  So I can only assume it’s the ATM, but hey.

So, I call the bank.

I have a long conversation with a lovely lady and give her all my details.  Twice.

I explain the problem.

I hold on.

And hold on.

And hold on.

The lovely lady comes back and tells me that as it’s a card I need to go through to her colleague that deals with the card queries.

I say that it’s a debit card, not a credit card.

Yes, she says, that’s fine.

The second lovely lady looks at the most recent statement as she cannot go beyond July and asks me to tell her what the problem is.

I tell her.

She says that she can’t see who the merchant is.

This second lovely lady then launches into an extended explanation of how she can lodge a dispute for me and they will investigate, but that if the charges prove true they will charge me R150 per disputed charge.

At which point I got annoyed.

How can you tell me that I will get charged if you cannot even tell me who the Merchant is right now?

She says: Can I fax you a dispute form.

I say: No.  Can you email me one?

She says: No

I say: Just to confirm, you know that we are dealing with a debit card, not a credit card.

She says: Oh.

Silence

She says: In that case I can make a note and get someone to investigate.  Here is your reference number blahblahblah, please call back in 48 hours.

I say: Excuse me?  I need to call YOU back in 48 hours?

And this from a bank that has an “askonce” policy.  And has donated money on my behalf before to a charity of my choice.  Because I should only need to ask once according to their marketing campaign

Bad bad blogger

You know when you have a routine that is suddenly broken and then everything else kind of falls by the wayside?

That’s how I feel about blogging at the moment.  I used to blog at night, on the couch, in peace and quiet whilst Etienne was mostly trying to have a conversation and I mostly had my nose buried in my computer.  I stopped doing that lately because

  1. I took up crocheting (how big a nerd am I??)
  2. I couldn’t be asked to switch on my laptop and
  3. It’s easier to cuddle on the couch without a laptop in the way

Then I promise myself I’ll blog first thing in the morning or during my lunch and then all of a sudden it’s 17h10 and I have to run out the door.  And I spent my 30 minutes of headspace time on Pinterest.  That shit’s addictive let me tell you. But my head is abuzz with awesome ideas.

The Crochet/Pinterest thing is so bad I haven’t even finished a book in 3 months, which is completely unheard of as I normally average a book a week.

To top it all off I’m not spending enough time with the kids as it is so I have very little funny fodder to write blog posts, all I’m mustering at the moment is the odd pic.  Maybe I should rather be a photo blogger?  The stuff I would probably write about is how badly behaved they are at the moment and other random shit I shouldn’t really be talking about here.

And food.  Lots and lots of fabulously healthy food I’m making at the moment.

So that’s what potting.   We aren’t bad, we’re doing quite well actually.  Poor, but healthy and happy.

That is all.

 

Sleep

How much sleep do you feel you need in order to feel great function effectively? (and NO, not the obvious ‘as much as possible’ answer you are thinking)

I am my own worst enemy, but personally, I blame our couch.  It’s not like I stare at the television the whole night, I’m usually blogging or tweeting or crocheting or talking or something.  But for some reason I do not make it to bed before 22h30 every night.  And back up at 05h30 on school mornings.  Ok, make that 05h40 after a quick snuggle. So about 7 hours on a really good night.

Now that I’m eating better and drinking less coffee I don’t feel exhausted in the mornings, but come Fridays I’m downright finished.  Especially if there were child-shaped shadows looming in our bedroom or coughing or a dog barking in the middle of the night.  I’m still amazed at how your body adapts to sleep deprivation caused by sick/teething children and crying babies. Well, other people’s bodies.  I don’t cope very well without sleep, ask every single one of the extra kilo’s I’m carrying around with me.

So, now that there is a (touchwood) chance of a better night’s sleep I’m starting to wonder how much sleep

  1. You feel you need to function on and
  2. You actually get.

Let me know?

 

Debriefing

Ok.  So I haven’t blogged in 2 weeks.  The longest time EVER I have gone without blogging in almost 3 years.  I feel like I should be doing a confession or something: “Dear Darling Blog Readers, it has been 14 days since my last entry”.

To be honest, I have been really busy and I generally think it’s a really lame thing to say you’re too busy to blog.  But I got busy making something for a friend (read:  crochet and nerd) for her babyshower which has turned into a monster project.  I’m 3/4 way there and will blog the completed project.

And work’s been hectic.

And I’ve been getting home late and not seeing my kids.

And I’ve been tired and ratty.

And I’ve been trying to pull myself toward myself so I can write a coherent post without sounding like I’m running around in circles.

And I rehearsed and wrote so many lovely posts in my head that I wanted to sit down and do properly.

And I wanted to sort out my feelings before coming here and sounding like I’m a rambling lunatic.

And.. Oh. wait.

And I realised that this is my very own rambling space, so here I am.  Rambling away.

But I’ll be back to gloat because we now officially Recycle (my halo is apparently on it’s way) and ask about Upcycling and Re-Using and what your thoughts are.  And whether you do it.  Because my friend Sally does and I think it’s a bloody fantastic idea.  Except for the fact that I can pretty much just crochet in a straight line.  And it takes me months to crochet a bloody baby blanket.

So send your birthdays for 2013 along so I can start now 🙂

Confessions of a Recovering Control Freak

I have been trying to write a post on being a Recovering Control Freak for a very long time, but I haven’t been able to get it Just Right.

Because in many ways I am a Recovering Control Freak, but in most ways I’m not.

Let me paint you the picture:

When it comes to home stuff I don’t see myself as a huge control freak, probably because the balance of that lies more with Etienne.  Not that he’s a control freak, he just has a wonderful ability to bring discipline, order and humour into our house.  And he doesn’t mind cleaning up the playroom which I avoid like the plague.  (I hate that room, but that’s a whole other blog post).  And my poor husband probably feels like I don’t carry my share of the load.

I have realised of late that I’m a work control freak type person.  With a direct correlation of how much out of control I feel at home.  Take this morning for example:

Every morning Mignon fights us and says she doesn’t want to wear anything warm because she “wants to be sick” and I can never understand why.  Usually we weedle and negotiate until we eventually get something warm on her.  But this morning she was having none of it.  She was NOT putting anything warm on and she was NOT going to school, especially as Daddy was dropping her off and not Mommy.  There was snot and trane (tears) and a special moment of sobbing and hugging and I realised

a.    she thinks if she’s sick Mommy will stay home with her and

b.   she just wants her Mommy.

And then I came to work and started planning my day and how to keep everything here under control and realised with shock and horror that the more out of control I feel about managing my time with my kids and how much they need me, the more I have this intense need to control my work environment. 

Because maybe I am just really not a Recovering Control Freak, just an Aware Control Freak.

And now I shall pull myself toward myself and get on with my day.  I’m determined to make it a good one!

A weighty issue

This is a really hard post to write and it’s been sitting in my head for a while now.  So bear with me.

Last year a lot of my ‘interweb’ friends were writing love letters to their bodies.  I remember reading them at the time and thinking I would much rather be sticking pens in my eyes.  And then Tertia forwarded an email of a magazine looking to interview women that have rediscovered their sexuality after having children.  I literally snorted out loud.  Sexuality?  What sexuality?

I don’t think I’m ugly, but I look at my boobs after breastfeeding 3 children, my fat stomach and all my stretch marks and I shudder.   And I look at the number on the scale and want to run a mile.

Not that I don’t know what to eat.  I know why I am not losing weight (stress, lack of exercise, giving up smoking and using food as a crutch) and yet I do very little about it.  I avoid full length mirrors except for the most cursory glance at my outfit in the mornings.  I hardly buy clothes that aren’t a. black or b. hide the worst of my sins.  To be fair, I hardly buy clothes.  I am loathe to spend money on anything until “I lose the weight”. 

I would start an eating plan, lose 5 or 6 kgs, feel great, and then gain 10 kgs.  Self-sabotage much?  I have this whole “I’m so lazy and fat” thing going on in my head that’s just crazy and I know I am probably punishing myself for something that’s just ridiculous.

Yes, I know all the logical answers and I know there’s just no instant diet and the weight’s just never going to fall off me.  But I do miss that thinner version of me.  I fear that Etienne might wake up one day and realize that he is living with an unattractive fat person and head for the hills.  It impacts on my sex life in a big way.  In my mind I’m still that daring (and young!) person that absolutely loves sex when in reality I feel, well, decidedly un-sexy.  And he tries to help in his gentle kind way without making me feel even worse.  Which makes me feel even worse.  Because I keep thinking: who would want to love a body like this?

So I keep punishing myself.  Like an idiot.  I dread feeling restricted and hungry and miserable and deprived.  And yeeees, I know it’s a mindset.  But by dammit, I need to get into that mindset.

I know this about myself:  if I’m not constantly thinking about the goal of going to weigh myself with a 3rd person I suck at diets eating plans.  And I hate Weigh Less with an undying passion.  I did SureSlim and that worked brilliantly. 

Are there any other good eating plans out there?

If you have lost weight AND KEPT IT OFF what did you do?  What made the difference for you?

Work stuff

As a matter of principle I don’t blog about work, but the work I am doing now is so humbling that I have to share some of my thoughts.

I have had the honour of meeting a lot of people from disadvantaged backgrounds lately.

People that come from all over Cape Town and from varying degrees of challenging circumstances.

People that have used their last money to travel to our office to see us or have borrowed money for taxi-fare.

People that have been through untold horrors in their lives, some of which they share with us.

People that put on their very best clothes because they desperately need (and want!) a job.

People that often couldn’t finish school because they have had to work to support their families.

People that are incredibly bright and desperate to make a difference in life, but are limited by their circumstances.

People that have been judged and looked down upon because of where they are from.

And I think to myself:

I take SO much in my life for granted. I come home to a warm home at night. I have healthy children. I drive a car. I have access to 24/7 internet. I’m not in an abusive relationship. I finished school. I don’t live with 8 people in a small house, but a lovely big house with a garden. I get to spoon at night because I like it, not because I have to. I come home to a marvellously clean house and cooked meal every night. And I have a job and a wonderfully supportive and loving family.

So tonight, sitting in front of a lovely fire, on my couch, in front of the DSTV with my Husband snuggled right next to me I say Thank You for all I have.

That is all.

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(Isabel in all her cute glory tonight)

Things that drive me batty

Maybe it’s just me, but there are just some things in life that can turn me from sweet innocent smiling happy person to rabid snarling dog mad in 5 seconds flat. PMS or no PMS. I mostly keep quiet, grind my teeth and picture a serence scene, but every once in a while I just snap.

It might have something to do with the fact that I have this stupid concept of fairness, honesty and directness that often lands me I’m hot water. But I don’t really care.

Here’s my list:

  • Kids in cars that aren’t strapped in. By far my biggest pet hate.
  • People smoking in cars.
  • People smoking in cars that also happen to have children in them.
  • People smoking in cars that also happen to have children in them that aren’t strapped in. These are the people I motion to wind windows down at robots and then ask them if I shouldn’t rather just take a gun and shoot their child on the spot to get the job out the way. Much to Etienne’s dismay. Once again: I don’t care.
  • Standing in line at the grocery store and the arsehole in front of you dumps their trolley, blocking your way to get to the pay point. I mean, how hard can it be to pull your trolley with you as you proceed through the till point? You packed the stuff in there and unpacked it. Surely it’s not that hard to dispose of the trolley?
  • People that expect their groceries to be packed for them. What? You have no hands? I often let the cashier finish the transaction whilst I pack the groceries if there isn’t a packer available. It’s not that hard people.
  • People that park across 2 parking bays on a Saturday morning when the shops are packed. I really have no words.
  • People that aren’t old, with child or disabled that park in these appointed parking bays. Douchebags, the whole lot of you.
  • When people complain about something but do NOTHING about it. Go on, make that call, send that email, but for crying out loud: if it bugs you SAY something to the right people. If you say nothing things will always stay the same.

Whch makes me wonder why I always end up being the biatch putting my hand up? Or should I rather just quietly stand by and tolerate stuff that could have an impact on people close to me?

Rant over.

The End.

What bugs you in life?

Lovely Blog award

Hi All,

I’m really grateful to Nicki for nominating me for the Lovely Blog award, thanks so much!  Now we just need to meet In Real Life 🙂

The conditions of receiving this award are:

  • Thank the person who gave you the award (done!)
  • Reveal 7 random facts about yourself
  • Choose 5 other people who you believe deserve the award and pass it on

7 Random things about myself.  I don’t even think there’s 7 things people don’t know about me by now..

  1. I’m a closet wannabe home-maker-type-person.  I have several books on crocheting and making quilts etc, but I don’t have the time or the patience to deal with it right now. And I’m besotted with Pinterest. It’s a very baaaad thing.
  2. I can’t wait for my girls to start playing with dolls so that we can build houses and make clothes and stuff.
  3. I’m happy as a lark if I’m huddled on the couch, electronic device (that connects to the internet) in hand and talking to my friends on the interwebs.  I’m a terrible communicator and I suspect Etienne knows much more about my feelings from reading my blog and my twitter stream than he ever will from having an actual conversation with me.  Sad but true. (this statement excludes the die hard really important stuff)
  4. I am completely haunted by a friendship that ended badly a few months ago.  I know I need to move on and let it go but I have a stinking suspicion that I won’t be able to let it rest before there is some kind of confrontation.  Which I really dread.
  5. I have secretly started another blog.  Purely because I want to split up the writing and food stuff and I want to keep all my recipes in one place.  It’s still a work in progress so I’ll keep it really simple and just post links from here.  It’s like my own special little play place..
  6. I have a really really good sense of smell.  Which is great to pick out perfume, but a curse when you have to deal with poo, vomit and cat pee.
  7. I love having a hectic house.  I wish I had a huge big old house on a massive plot with loads of dogs and cats and children running around. I absolutely love having a house full of life.

I nominate the following fellow bloggers for this award:

Debbie.  She juggles 3 kids, a house and runs a business with her husband.

Candice or Dr Candice to the world.  She rocks. 

Sally who is the type of Mom I wish I could be.

Camilla who is one of the most creative and inspirational women I’ve ever met.

I have so many blogs that I read and love, I’m almost nervous to mention someone here..

I survived!!

The weekend was unmitigated chaos and I just didn’t have the time or energy to do a blog post.  But I survived.

My Friday evening started off with Daniel having a croup attack and a 39.5 fever. He then proceeded to spend Friday and Saturday night in bed with me.  Which meant that I spent Friday and Saturday night listening to his breathing.

On Saturday morning my folks went collect our new girl from Animal Anti Cruelty League and bring her home.  We were instructed to not let her into our property immediately, but to take her and Jack for a long walk until they calm down and get used to each other.  It took a 45 minute walk and much whining and growling from Jack to get him to settle down to a mild panic, but we finally managed it.  We then let Jack in the gate first and left my Dad to keep an eye on them whilst my Mom and I took the kids off to the shops.

The lovely people at AACL requested that I keep the dogs outside and away from the kids for at least 2 days as they were scared that Jack would get aggressive if the kids got too excited. They also gave some really helpful tips about dogs fighting and dog pecking orders.  For example: if 2 dogs are fighting, lift their back legs up to break it up.

On Saturday night after the kids had gone to sleep I wanted to let the dogs in to see how they would do and it went very well, so I kept them inside for a while.  I left them outside on Sunday morning, but when we came back from Fathers Day lunch at my folks I instructed the kids to be calm to see if we could let the doggies into the house.  They all behaved extremely well so we all had a bit of a chill in the lounge.

Well, I was trying to have a nap on the couch, but the girls had other ideas:

Mommy, please take a photo!!

 And here are the doggies having a chat:

Gimme some Luuuurve!

Etienne was meant to be home at 6pm, but they were running late and by 6h30pm I could stand the juggling of bathing and feeding and whining no longer and sent one of those”if you don’t come home RIGHT NOW…” messages and poured myself a glass of wine.  Not my proudest moment, but there is only so much I can deal with for 5 days.

So, as at this morning we aren’t 100% sure what our little lady will be called, but we are leaning toward Lily.  She’s a real little lady!

Here they are last night, amazing how much space they take up.  And how much they fart..

Peace and Love.

And lastly, when our friends were over for lunch on Thursday, I took this pic of Daniel and their little girl.  He went up to her and gave her the biggest hug and cuddle.  I love my boy, he is so gentle and sweet, but how could you not want to cuddle that sweet little face?!

Daniel and A.

ps: the cat’s gone missing.  I’m wondering if he’s fired us?