24 Dec

Patchy internet access the last couple of days has left this space very quiet, but done wonders for my Christmas preparations.

I downloaded a bunch of pics this morning, here's a smattering of what we've been up to.

 Christmas Trees inspired by Love & Lollipops

 Brining the turkey in the camping fridge. Innovative no?

 Who knew she'd love mince pies so much? Little bit of sherry never hurt anyone right?

 

I finished Sunday's stocking just in time! She'll get her name on it next year, Maybe.

This was a great success.

 It's all been so ... jolly.
Christmas really, really is more fun once you have kids.

Have a lovely few days everyone, I'm taking a blog break 'til the New Year - see you then.

21 Dec

Giant fruit. Fabric paint. Repurposed vintage Skinny laMinx. Itchy shoulder.

It was a good day.

zen christmas

I could bang on and on about how utterly sublime Cape Town has been these last few days. Windless, warm (but not too warm), clear, blue and gold.
But that could get you hating, and I wouldn't want that.

So I'll just bang on about how relaxed and ready I'm feeling about Christmas, and you can be hating on me for that instead.
But really, I'm as surprised as anyone. I'm genuinely calm, prepared and feeling totally zen about this silly season: Christmas, school holidays, endless empty days to fill  - bring it on.

Molly's SmugFace Guide to Christmas Preparedness:

1. Schedule 3+ weeks of family sickness for November. This enables you all to get really used to spending lots of time at home together. And gives you some time for holiday crafting to distract you from killing your children, or yourself.

2. Do one 2h trip to Osman's sometime far away from pay day (way too busy then) to sort out all stocking fillers, extra tinsel and tree bling, and the necessary couple of small friend gifts. Yeah, I know we should all be buying handmade but frankly, I can't always afford that.

3. Agree with your friends not to buy each others kids presents. We give and receive generously for our children's birthdays, and with all the family gifts they receive at Christmastime I don't think they need all that extra loot too. Sometimes we bake for our friends around Christmas time, sometimes we don't - there's no pressure and no one should be keeping score.

4. Order one kid's main gift from Kalahari (or similar online outlet), source other kid's gift on the web and go straight to the source to buy it in one easy excursion. Visit Reader's Warehouse or similar for a couple of books.
(Our girls get stockings from 'Father Christmas', and one or two presents from us. I'm loving the 3 gift concept too - something to wear, something to read, something to play - but if summer thus far is anything to go by they'll be stark naked until February, so I'm skipping the 'wear' one.)

5. Luck out on finding one source for all family gifts (us adults all buy one small gift per couple) - and earn bonus smug points for a) buying them all in under 30 mins and b) supporting a local industry.
Oh and, persuade your siblings not to breed - it really helps when you don't have nieces and nephews to buy for.

6. Wrap as you buy. I'm new to this (and I'm not joking when I say I'm as freaked out by this newfound efficiency as anyone) but what a winning concept. Buy a gift, wrap it when you get home/ that evening/ while they're in the bath / while talking on the phone. It only takes a minute and it's easier to stash a wrapped gift than an unwrapped one.

7. Start making a list in October of what your kids need or want so when you get the inevitable queries from relatives you've some answers at the ready. I've yet to meet an aunt or granny who's not appreciative and it means I have some control over the kind of kak, I mean, presents which come into the house.

8. Pledge, and stick to it, not to go into any malls after end November. So far I've managed this and my god it's making a difference to my sanity levels. The Garden Centre doesn't count okay!
[Ack, went into Cavendish yesterday - but took the lift straight down to Woolies, bought shoes for both girls and got the hell out. Relatively unscathed.]

9. WALK AWAY. What can't be done, won't be done. Don't promise nothing to nobody but yourself - I've had years of practise letting myself down, it stopped hurting long time ago.

10. Throw candy, not money, at any problems which come your way. Or alternatively, your own face. Frequently.

Ah the smugness. Annoying hey?

Yeah, I'm too zen to let that bug me. And too busy frantically finishing a handmade stocking for Sunday.

What is it about this time of year?!

19 Dec

'Tis the party season gang, and this girlie is getting tired.

A quiet day today methinks.

having a moan: artisan markets

On the weekend we popped in at this market, looking for some supper, a drink and a change from the usual supper/bath/bed (kids)/copious wine/arbing on the internet/bed (us) routine.

Looks pretty hey? It was so pretty - twinkly lights, bunting, a live band, beautiful people, pretty things - a very pretty Cape Town kinda experience.

But, sigh, I'm afraid I left feeling a little underwhelmed.

My intention is not to belittle the creativity of anyone trading their wares, there were very many uniquely lovely things, as well as a good number of pure genius lust-haves, and I'm genuinely respectful and empathetic of anyone who has the balls to put their work out there - craft, writing etc - but the overarching aesthetic was so ... same-y.
By the time we had ambled past all the stalls and back out into the gathering dark the whole market had fallen into one visual folder in my head, with only a few items standing out from the crowd.

This is what that folder looks like:

Stuff:
hessian cloth
stripey ribbon
white
bunnies
birds
brown paper

Words:
organic
vintage-style
signature
gifting
conscious
re-invented

Smells:
coffee
chocolate
pretension

Read together these words evoke a pretty picture, and I feel so very Grinchy finding fault with that. I love living in a city where people create, I love being able to nip out to a market to see what they've been up to.

But I can't help but feel we're missing something when an 'artisan market' becomes predictable.
Predictable is why I avoid malls.

16 Dec

A couple of weeks back I had a fun evening listening to Nine Inch Nails and making a string of paper matryoshkas.
As one does.

It was one of those sanity-saving exercises when I just needed a little all about me-ness. Friday was tres impressed when she saw them up but also indignant that I'd made them without her.
So today we remedied that, and she and some buddies made their own.

I'm loathe to admit it, but hers are way cooler. They have beards!

5 underappreciated milestones

The first tooth. First mush. First step. First word. They get all the attention.

But let's take a moment for those less glamorous but, in my view, as exciting milestones. Some of those precious developments which show our little darlene's are growing up and, more joyfully, make our lives just that little bit easier ...

1. The moment they start getting the concept of 'in a minute'.

2. The first time they walk from the car into the house themselves, freeing up our hands for The Bag, the shopping, the keys, the takeaway coffee.

3. The first time they understand, and obey, 'Fetch the wet wipes.'

4. Ditching the toddler car seat and its infernally complex and curse-inducing straps and clasps. All hail the booster seat!

5. The first time they can pick up dog poo unassisted.

Okay, I've yet to experience that last one but lemme tell you - it can't come round soon enough.

14 Dec

Yester-evening the little 'un and I sneaked off to the much anticipated opening of the new Skinny laMinx studio and shopfront in town.

I was too busy holding a small child, quaffing lurvely Graham Beck and nomming extraordinary ice cream from The Creamery (peppermint leaf! ohmahgee!) in teeny-weeny cones to wield a real camera - see lovely photos here, here and here - sigh ... the beauty.

Heather really just gets it so ... right.

Skinny laMinx, 201 Bree Street Cape Town - go see.

13 Dec

Dance like nobody's watching. May she never forget it.

12 Dec

You're going to start thinking I'm making this up.

But please believe me that I couldn't if I tried. Sometimes all you need is to look around with a dirty mind observant eye.

luck. guilt. joy.

Last week I left my front door and security gate standing open for 4 hours.
I think I need to say that again. In italics.  
Last week I left my front door and security gate standing open for 4 hours.

I left the house with the girls, Friday decided at the front door that she and her sister needed dolls in the car and went back to get them, I went to the car to strap Sunday in, Friday came out to the car, I got her in and drove away.
If you're not from here you might not get the enormity of how stupid that is. If you are you'll know that's plenty stupid, as well as reckless, and well, just plain blonde.
If you're not from here you might not get how incredibly lucky I am that not a thing was disturbed when I returned.
If you are you'll know that's a bloody miracle.

4 hours and not a thing was taken, not one single sign that anyone had even sniffed around.

That's luck.

On Saturday night I was awoken at 1am by Sunday very quietly and calmly calling me. She does this sometimes and I only half-roused, waiting to see if she really needed me. I must've dozed off again.
Then I heard her calling once more, still very quietly and politely.
Once again I lay still, listening for a bit until I decided she was probably not going back to sleep.
I got up slowly, resignedly, went to the loo first and then finally to her room, where I found my poor baby in a puddle of her own congealing and rapidly cooling vomit.

That's guilt.

Friday's been on holiday since the end of last month. By now we're well into the swing of all being home together - I've made peace with getting much less (read: none) writing done, Sunday is loving having her playmate around all the time, Friday's watched Despicable Me a trillion times (in amongst lots of other stimulating and/or outdoor activities obviously).

Yesterday she told me that she was having the most fun ever. That I was a lovely Mum and she 'loved living with me'.

That's joy.

Luck. Guilt. Joy. Three such Christmassy feelings don't you think?

9 Dec

It's not a great photo by a long shot, but this puppy was acquired to help alleviate, or at least distract from, the sorrow of a woman who lost her husband of many years.

And what this photo does do, is testify to the ray of sunshine this doggie has proved to be.

Hope you have a happy sunny weekend!

I just have to add ...

That it flummoxes me that 'the largest bird park in Africa and one of the few large bird parks in the World', which offers visitors the unique opportunity to view, amongst other wondrous creatures: Marabou Stork, Kookaburra, Cassowaries, Golden Baboon, Porcupine, Duiker, Atacoma, Marmoset, Honey Badger, rare African Civet for goodness sakes, Birds of Paradise, Boa Constrictor etc etc etc ad nausea (that's if you inhale too deeply around the Flamingo), also offers this, in all seriousness.

The Magic Forest.

From the signs you'd think it was the most exciting part of the whole place. Your curiosity well piqued you thank your lucky stars you're not in a school group, make sure the toddler's sturdily strapped into her stroller, take the eldest firmly by the hand and push through the gate.

More promising signs of danger adventure to come.

And then, amongst the well-tended jungly pathways and the spine-tingling mossy gloom, you start encountering these ...

... no birds, no animals, the occasional ill-placed turd and more of these ...

... and sorry wtf is that?

It's unfathomable.

It's inexplicable.

It's uncannily like our lounge-room when the house still belonged to its previous owner, a 70+ yo pensioner with a penchant for hideous knick-knacks and the artful arranging thereof.

I need this one explained to me. I really, really do. Magic Forest of ultimate weirdness.

8 Dec

I took the girls to visit World of Birds ahead of the school holiday rush. It was the perfect day to do it - cool and overcast, very few other people there.
We had a great time, despite the stench (watch out for those flamingos!), and were lucky enough to get some very rare sightings ...

What wondrous bird is this?

I flouted all the rules and took it home.

7 Dec

Um, did we know these could be machine-washed?

Pity we can't do the same for the feet.

6 Dec

I smelt it before I saw it. My stomach said: 'Yeeesssssssss!' Then once inside had a brief and heated debate with my wallet as to who was happier.

They called a truce.

Eastern Food Bazaar, 96 LongMarket St. [with another entrance on Darling St for dual entry points to the awesomeness].

5 Dec

You know when you visit a place for the first time and within a couple of hours of being there you're already excited about going back?

Like that.

2 Dec

Gone camping.

posted from Bloggeroid

1 Dec

The girls opened their first advent matchbox this evening. Two little white chocolate buttons happily consumed.
3 packets of match boxes, lots of scraps from the pretty paper stash, one tube of chocolate buttons from Clicks.
We're keeping Christmas simple this year.

And we're excited.

PS I was interviewed over on Becoming You this week - such fun.

you know, THAT girl

The one who just can't say No. That's me.

Not about stuff like begging for sweets in the supermarket, or wanting one more cupcake, or Happy Feet for the brazillionth time that week - oh no, I'm cold as ice on that stuff, doling out No's with a firm, decided (and sometimes even smug) tone. Holding my resolve in the face of tears and entreaties and sticky-outy bottom lips.

But it's the requests to play which I struggle with. Being begged to read one more book, getting unwittingly cast as the mother/baby/monster/etc in one of the endless imaginary games, being asked to review the anatomical legitimacy of a play-dough snake.
Often it's just my presence that's required.
'Please Mum can you sit with me?' (while she happily builds a puzzle alone)
'Gnh Gnh GNH!!!' (as I try to sidle out the playroom)

I feel a huge amount of guilt turning these requests down. I feel like denying them the presence and attention of their mother is a big parenting fail.
I tell myself this is because my primary role is as stay-at-home-mum to them, my main job as it were is to be their companion, their playmate, to just ... hang out and be there.
But this is the same reason I often resent them for it.

I am here for them so much of the time. Shouldn't I be like that TV that's always on, you know, the one which theoretically is eventually completely ignored? I envy that TV.
Bet that TV doesn't feel bad about feeling resentful that it's always on.

I know kids have to 'learn' to play by themselves, to create their own entertainment. My girls don't have any problems with that, they just want me to be part of the games they create.
I should feel flattered right?

So why do I feel guilty saying no? And then exasperated when I don't? And then guilty for feeling exasperated?

Oh riiiiight, because I'm a p-a-r-e-n-t. It all goes with the territory.
Joy.

pinspiration: holiday survival tactics activities

Friday finishes school on Wednesday, and then the loooooong summer holidays stretches before us ....

I (like lots of parents I guess) approach the holidays with a fair amount of dread apprehension - we love the little darlings obviously but all those days to fill ... Past experience has however taught me that the longer the holiday the better they often are.
Fairly quickly our rhythms shift and adapt, the girls start sleeping in a bit later. Not starting our days with a mad dash to get out the door sets an easier tone for the rest of the day and most noticeably, the girls slip more easily into home-play; self-generated games and activities which don't require as much input from me as I feared thought.

Here's hoping at least!

That said, it doesn't hurt to have some activities up my sleeve. Here's a few I've got planned.
All from Pinterest of course!

1. Bath Paint
I've totally been known to put my girls in the bath at all times of the day. BEST way to grab half an hour. This would work as well in a paddling pool I guess but what better canvas than a white bath tub?

2. Rainbow Rice
Find the How-To here and then browse around - she's got lots of other fun ideas too.

3. Frozen Sensory Tub
Dudes, what a totally FAB idea for a hot afternoon? Go here to learn how, then check out ALL the other a-m-a-z-i-n-g sensory tub ideas she got going on and then dangnabit just go follow her on Pinterest yourself. [Bows to true genius.]

 4. And for snack time ... watermelon stars.
How pretty?

Just writing this post has gotten me excited about hot afternoons and summer fun, I'll post some more ideas as I find them and by all means, please share your holiday survival plans!

gangsta child: 10 ways a toddler's like a mobster

She has a predilection for weapons.

She'll steal your ride when you ain't looking.

She looks at you funny and you feel afraid, very afraid.

She likes pasta.

She has a tag.

She likes to party.

She has anger-management issues.

She's always plotting her next move.

She sleeps with naked chicks.

Capisce?

yoga with kids

Friday's always been a bit of a yoga fan. I credit the amount of yoga I did while pregnant with her.

Learning The Sphinx from one who knows  ~Aug 2008

Doing The Child with me, on a trampoline ~ Feb 2009

And these days, with the help of these clever bilingual Yoga Cards we printed out and laminated, she likes to 'teach' her sister. And learn some Italian too!

The all important 'Laying Out the Cards' ~ my little Montessori girl

Um ... The Plow?

The Big (wobbly) Tree

The Cat Child Afternoon Prayer?

Which one next?

Free-style yoga!

La Casa nella Prateria is a fabulous site for all kinds of things - yoga, Montessori, parenting stuff, crafting with kids.
And the site name translates into Little House on the Prairie - what's not to love?

#blacktuesday

I had another post scheduled for Wednesday (now that I'm doing more regular non-blog writing I'll only be posting here 3 times a week for a while), but I couldn't let today go by unmarked.

Was I the only person who spent this historic day at home with a sick and very cranky toddler, my all black protest garb steadily getting covered in snail-trail stains of snot and tears?
It really felt like it.
Thank goodness for social media. By 12:40 it was clear I wasn't going to make it to Parliament but I got Sunday to sleep just in time to watch the disturbing outcome of the vote on the Protection of State Information Bill 'live' on Twitter.

I know I wasn't the only person who put my kids to bed this evening with a distracted and heavy heart, a bit too much snappiness and impatience, and a real concern for their future.

I spent some time yesterday evening writing an email to a friend who has been really struggling with the 'should we stay or should we go' dilemma lately. I wasn't trying to influence her decision, but I have (as all of us have I imagine) been in that space myself at times so I shared with her some of thoughts I keep in the 'dossier' in my head filed under Open When Despondent About the Future of SA.
This afternoon I almost wanted to mail her again to say 'I take it all back! Flee! Flee!'

But I didn't. Because I don't yet believe that's the only option. Times are bleak but this is our home.

Here's something from my dossier:
My parents brought my brothers and I up as one of few liberal families in a small and very conservative community. My mother tells of having moments of thinking they were insane to be raising kids in the uncertainty and (albeit invisible to our small white village) horror of 1970's South Africa. My father, an intellectual and extremely optimistic man, really didn't think he'd see a peaceful end to apartheid in his life time.
40 bizarre and miraculous years later we're doing more than okay.

There's something else I take from this today - we grew up feeling happy and secure. Whatever my parents doubts and fears, we didn't know about them until we were old enough to understand and process them.
I won't, as I fear I may have done this evening, let my girls suffer from my stress about this again.

Call me naive, no really do - because I'm choosing to be. At the end of Black Tuesday I'm choosing to be naively optimistic, with a healthy sprinkling of bitch-fight angry.
At the end of a day where I was too concerned about the future to be truly present in the now, I'm pledging to try and not make that mistake again.

I'm doing it for my girls.

in ancient times

As any parent will warn you, it's not recommended to spend too much time post-kids reminiscing about life pre-kids.
If for no other reason than after all the hormones and emotions and sleep-deprivation you can't really rely on your memory any more, even once your kids are a manageable age.

I had a series of scary anxiety attacks while pregnant with Friday. My doctor very wisely took them quite seriously and urged me to get treatment while I still had time to make it all about me. One of the issues which came up in my 2 and a half therapy sessions (yes folks, it seems I'm so shallow and my psyche so rose-tinted that not even a paid therapist could eke more material from me. Halfway through my 3rd session she basically told me we were done and showed me the door. I still think given a bit more time I could have dredged up some more dirt to talk about ...), was a genuine concern that having a baby would be like having a permanent house-guest.
Like having someone to stay who you liked very much and got on well with, but around whom you still felt you needed to get dressed at a decent time and serve 3 balanced meals a day and not belch too loudly.
My therapist (can I call her 'mine' after so few sessions?) kind of guffawed (are they allowed to do that?) and asked me what my husband thought of this theory. I confessed I'd not discussed it with him and she sent me home to do just that.
He laughed long and loud.
'Hell no,' he said, 'this is our kid. She will fit into our lifestyle, she will do/dress/eat/live how we choose.'

Okay so he was wrong in a lot of ways. But right in that becoming a parent doesn't feel like one day you were living one life and then the next another. It's all part of the same life, your life, it just gets more interesting ...

But naturally sometimes you can't help but hanker back to those ancient times. And never is this more tempting then on weekend mornings.
What did we do with our long Saturday mornings we asked ourselves at 7.00 am?

We used to lie in 'til shamefully late. Now we lie in between two little girls 'til latest 9 am and then someone needs to wee, or be fed or get changed into dry pants.
We used to read books, novels. Now we read Mog goes to the V-E-T, Winnie the Witch and, if we're lucky, How the Elephant Got His Trunk.
We used to doze off again. Now we only close our eyes to play peek-a-boo.
We used to cuddle. Now we tickle and roll and squish-like-a-bug and try to shield our tender parts from various flailing limbs.
We used to finally drag ourselves up and into the quiet house and bumble around filling our day.

I guess we still bumble, but now at rapid speed. And although our days are that much longer the hours seem to fly by and there's certainly very little time to wonder how we're going to fill them.

But we're still very likely to be in our pajamas 'til shamefully late in the day, we're still the same people after all.

dear (food) diary

We were doing so well, you and I.

So honest, so well-maintained. I was even confessing to the half biscuit that I couldn't help but eat after Friday licked the yoghurt coating off and discarded it.
No more than 3 caffeine units, enough fruit to flatulate a small village, lots and lots of water.

And then ... Ouma's pumpkin fritters.

It was the only thing I really had in the house for their dinner you see. And the only way the girls will eat butternut. I was only going to have one ...

But then I had 6. With brown sugar.

And I dutifully wrote them up, although it hurt. And I know that I'm not Catholic and it's not like if I confessed to them then they never happened or anything.
And I acknowledge that they marred that perfect page.

I'm sorry for that.

But they were gooooooooood.

are you sitting comfortably?

Then I'll begin ...

The kind Cupcake Mummy bestowed upon me this lil' blog award [blush] and according to the Rules (which I may or may not obey) I'm to divulge 7 things you may not have known about me. Hmmm.

I quite like doing these meme's. They tap into my fantasies from (and not limited to) my childhood in which I'm asked to reveal my Top 10 favourite things, or what I always have in my fridge, or who my dream date would be or my greatest wish (duh, world peace) - you know, all those questions schlebs get asked.
And in the spirit of keeping it real this week, here goes ...


1. If you'd asked me before I started doing this I would never have thought I'd be a (mainly) stay-at-home Mum for as long as I have been. Still not sure quite how it happened ... and often still not sure exactly how I feel about it ...

2. I have bufunophobia, a fear of toads. Don't laugh! It's a real thing. I don't think I could ever live in Tokai cos of all those Leopard Toad signs they have up there. In fact, I've had a couple of nasty moments while driving after spotting Protect the Toad bumper stickers. In fact, having just typed the word a couple of times I'm feeling a bit shaky and ill.

3. I can't touch cheese with wet hands. This is actually quite a tough one to admit to as I'm a bit mean and scathing about people's hang ups. Can't touch cotton wool? Oh come on. Don't like corduroy? Puh-lees. But ja, cheese and wet hands - can't do it.

4. I'm 36 and I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up.

5. I lack the basic motor skill which determines the order in which to pick up multiple items. Faced with having to carry more than 4 things I'm a mess - dropping stuff and/or spraining fingers or wrists. This is particularly unhelpful when one of those items is a small child.

6. I'd still like to grow dreadlocks one day. Crusty hey? Maybe when I'm over 60, I reckon grey dreadlocks can be pretty cool and no one would dare say anything to me then right?

7. And just because I've always wanted to answer this question: anchovies, Greek yoghurt, beer, eye drops and eggs.

Now I'm supposed to tag other bloggers on this one, but as I've just finished a day of sick kids and plumber cracks (in my walls and alas, in my face) and am looking forward to more of the same tomorrow, I'm going to rain-check on that, schedule this to publish in the morning and get myself into bed.

Happy Thursday!