Monthly Archives: June 2012

Guardian Angels or summat . . .

In the last week of May this year, I was on leave and had a friend out from up Norf. It was my birthday week and we were just hanging out and having loads of catch-up epsiodes.

On one morning we decided to take a nice early morning walk on the Muizenberg – St James catwalk. It’s a very popular walk for families, runners and even some fishermen (it’s a little elevated concrete strip running along the water’s edge). It was drizzling a bit and we were strolling along chatting about life, love and everything else.

About halfway in I suddenly got this smell (you know the smell you get when  you’ve been in someone’s kitchen? their cooking smells?) that just didn’t “fit”into my early morning walk-along-the-beach smell.

I stopped dead, turned around and there were these two guys on top of us. The points of our shoes were touching, that’s how close they were to us. I could smell his breath and I could see every line on his face. I was truly paralysed with fear. Don’t know what my face looked like but my heart was in my throat. I was mentally preparing to just hand over my bag, watch and rings. I don’t know what we were thinking walking with our bags. I think it’s because she is a visitor and decided to take her bag, I just did the same. We must’ve been very tempting to skellums.

Once I could talk again (within split seconds, why does it alwasy feel so loooong?) I said Öh hello!” Stood to the side and said “After you.”

Don’t know how I got it together so quickly but I did. The Simonstown railway runs above this walk so there are many subways leading off this walk. We were about 5 metres away from a subway and these two guys disappeared into one of them after I let them through.

The weirdest of all is that before I got that smell, we couldn’t hear them at all. Not a sound, so they were definitely creeping up on us. And once I let them through, we could clearly hear their footsteps.

I don’t know what made them not follow through with whatever dastardly plan they had, but am grateful their minds were changed.

Makes me think of that story that’s been circulating via e-mail. Not sure if it’s an urban legend or not. Something about a woman walking through alley or subway and finding out the next day that a woman was raped and murdered there minutes after she had walked through and seen the guy. She is then asked to identify him at the police station and asks him why he didn’t attack her. He then replies that he didn’t attack her because she had two guys walking with her!


In my next life . . .

I am going to be a SAHM. I’m going to drop out of school as soon as the government lets me. Going to find my DH. And am going to pop babies out like a sister wife!

I realised anew this week that I’ve been had.

Being a career-girl is not all it’s cracked up to be. Yes you can afford more stuff. Yes you can be independly wealthy (no I’m not there yet) and yes you don’t have to stay if he gives you crap.

Trying to break through the glass-ceiling is also not all it’s cracked up to be. As long as human beings are human beings, the glass-celing will exist. The brotherhood/ boys club mentality runs deep in men. I think it’s in their DNA, actually.

And feminism . . . oh feminism… What’s wrong with finding a decent man, like mine and the many others out there and being his barefoot and pregnant wench? I can’t think of anything better, actually.

So if Parent24 makes it to the next life, and you happen to be on it . . . look out for someone who reminds you of Big Tom’s Mom circa 2010 – 2040 (I reckon I can stop blogging on mommy blogs when Big Tom is 32) and make friends with me! I will be the one with the tickers always counting down the birth of my next baby. Will have more tickers than posts!

Oh and if Food24 makes it to the next life, I will also have a foodblog: How to feed a family of 20 for under R10 000!


Then someone died . . .

Being an honest parent Take Two:

My stepmom’s youngest brother died last weekend. He is being buried tomorrow morning . . .

Me: Thomas, remember we have to go to uncle Poen’s funeral tomorrow, eh? Remember he died and now we have to say goodbye to him.
BT:Yes I remember. He died?
Me: Yes, remember how I said when people die we put their bodies in the ground and we give their souls back to God.
BT: Yes. So we going to give uncle Poen back to God tomorrow?

Me: Yes and say thank you for giving him to us for a bit. But people will be calling him Freddie because that was his name.
BT: Oh so his name is Freddie like my name is Thomas. And Poen is what people call him? Like you call me Beebee?

Me: Yes my boy. And remember to give Ma a big hug as she is very sad because her brother died.

BT: Ok Mama, I will give Ma the best hug and tell her uncle Poen is going back to God.

Shoeeee, that went way better than the chicken drama!

Mama, where does chicken come from?

We had roast chicken on the menu the other day and Thomas was helping me prepare the bird.

Big Tom: Mama where does this chicken come from?

Me: Erm . . . from the farm.
BT: And how did he come to our house?
Me: Erm . . . he cames from the shop
BT: How did he get to the shop?

Interjection: So here I am thinking do I tell him the truth or some lame story? Being the kind of person I am, I decide to go for gold and be honest.

Me: The farmer looks for the old chickens and chop off their heads and . . .

BT: Nooooo Mama! Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!! Floods of tears.

DH walking into the kitchen: What’s happening in here?

BT in between great big sobs: Mama says the farmer chops off the chicken’s head. Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.

DH just said: Dude, how could you?

I walked out and found something else to do.

Once my assistant chef had calmed down and his father had given him the Happily Ever After version of how the chicken came to our house, he came to help me in the kitchen and peace once again reigned.

BT: Mama (sob sob) the (sob sob) farmer (sob sob) doesn’t chop of the chicken’s head (sob sob). You musn’t say (sob sob) that (sob sob sob!)

I made a conscious decision to not beat around the bush and spin some lame story when it comes to the important stuff like death, sex and so forth but eish . . . I misjudged this one.

DH reckons I might just have turned Thomas into a vegetarian . . . which is probably cool because he has quite an appetite for meat!


So I’ve been missing in action. Wow, lots have happened since I was last here. I’m just doing an update so I can wrap my head around things. No need to read everything, I know you guys are busy!

On 28 April the day of the big move finally happened. Removals van arrived promptly at 9 and we were kneedeep in boxes at our new house by 11! There was a moment when we thought we’d have to sleep on just our mattress as our bed base wouldn’t fit up the stairs . . . even if we removed the balustrades. My superduper dad came to the rescue and sort of sawed a bit off the base, took it up the stairs and assembled the base in our bedroom!

We were just settling in nicely and unpacking when DH decided to collapse. Long story short, he was diagnosed with pulmonary arterial hypertension (highblood pressure in the lungs). All fine now, as long as he stays on meds.

We’re loving our new house. Big Tom is loving his new school. He’s the tallest and biggest in build in his class (the rest of the 4yr olds are sort of tiny). So he plays with the kids in the 5 yr old class and thinks he’s 5. The favourite new terms are:

“That makes no sense”
“I knoooow!”
“Don’t talk to me!”

We live in a nice little complex of 12 townhouses with electric fencing (that and the hibiscus trees in the backyard persuaded me), with a looong driveway between the 6 units on the left and the 6 units on the right. The kids use this space to play, run wild, ride bikes, play ball and all sorts of other shenanigans. He also dashes across the way to his new buddy’s house and vice versa. So convenient.

I’ve just had a birthday and am starting to feel every one of my 36 years! Eish. Yiiikes.