Beautiful boy

“Before you cross the street
Take my hand
Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans”- John Lennon

Oh, this beautiful boy frustrates me sometimes, he challenges me, he questions me, he listens, he allows me to have fun and be silly and will most probably follow that with a “you’re so weird, mommy”. Most of all he makes me laugh.

He’s at that age now where he is concerned about his appearance. And with soccer / football (whatever the fuck you want to call it) being all the rage right now the last haircut was done so that he could look like Ronaldo.

Between movies of Pele and Ronaldo in  portuguese, the academy training, school training and the Saturday morning matches I don’t know whether I’m coming or going. It’s become a 5 day a week affair, but it’s exercise and a healthy addiction so can’t complain.

But the hair… 

He has a whole routine in the morning and completely hogs the one bathroom we have. Or shall I say the mirror. 

A towel gets draped around the shoulders as to not wet the school shirt. He then meticulously dabs the hair wet with a clothe. Excess water gets dried off with towel. The gell then gets massaged evenly through the hair.  Then the special comb comes out. 

He then spends the rest of the time painstakingly combing his curls into formation. This continues in the car on the way to school. And god forbid he forgot to put the jersey on prior to this ritual. Because we can’t, we simply can’t possibly mess up the hair at the last minute after all this effort. (Yawn, hair doesn’t interest me at all).

So, on one of these glorious morning’s of whipping his hair into shape I was trying to use the bathroom at the same time and for some bizarre reason he asks me whether I remember that one day in grade one when they had to take their pets to school.

Having 3 kids I really don’t have the energy or emotional capacity to still add pets to my list of responsibilities or dependants, but we had some goldfish at the time.

So, wanting to be my son’s hero, liking a challenge and being the mom that says we can do anything if we put our mind to it, I was like yes!!! Of course we’ll get the fish to school. Everyone else are going to take their cats, dogs, hamsters and lizards. Why not take fish?

I thought it through, planned it. Or atleast as much as I could being sleep deprived from A2 being 18months and A3 being 6months old.

The tank was never going to make it to school but I had a smaller rectangular vase that would be perfect. So prepped the vase and the water the night before, transferred the fish in the morning. Convinced hubby to look after A2 and A3 in the morning. I was prepared. So prepared.

So A1, fish and I set off to school. With more than enough time to take it slow. Drive safely, avoid bumps in the road in order not to spill water. We had some minor spillage but alas we made it to school safely with fish intact.

Or shall I say the school gate…

Yes, one has to turn into driveway, it’s super bumpy, and uphill. No matter how slow or carefully I was going to do this, this was going to end bad.

And with the mommy brigade jammed up in traffic jam behind me I had to just go. Just weren’t any reversing out of this situation.

So we went forth. As we mounted the top of this little driveway a big wave of water left the tank and soaked A1. Ok, more like drenched A1 to the point where he looked like he pissed his pants, hahahahaha.

He did shout at me out of stock. It was a wintery cold day and cold water drenching one’s pants wasn’t going to be fun. But the fish survived and still had sufficient water and we were very chuffed with ourselves. We had a little giggle.

Having succesfully escorted A1 and 2 goldfish to school, he had a great Afrikaans oral and I was his hero for all of one day atleast. 

Needless to say I was more prepared for the pick up after school…

We had a good old laugh reminiscing about this truly epic day before rushing off to school as of course his hair combing ritual was going to make us late. 

Atleast we’re not escorting fish today. Just dropping three kids at three different schools… 


An ode to my husband, chef h

My hubby is a manly man. Tall, strong, kitchen smell sweaty most of the time. If you date or are married to a chef you know the smell. He’s a man’s man. He loves his footy and beer and does a mean braai. Covered in tats and seriously just too cool for school.

He’s an awesome dude’s dude and if you’re a friend or employee he’ll always have your back.

And yes, he does the odd stupid dude’s stuff. Like coming home when the sun rises (years ago) after a night out after work with the guys. (But we already had kids) and then not replying to messages as you are up in middle of night breastfeeding nr 2.

I don’t get coffee or breakfast ever in bed as he always works night shift. I don’t ever get to sleep in. I’m the early bird he’s the late at night one.

He does not drive. Yes, chef H does not drive. So school runs, all of it, any driving required is all on me. Yes, drove myself to hospital while having contractions about to pop with all in car. Even with nr 2 drove to restaurant to fetch H, hahahaha. That’s hilarious,you should try it. So, no, I do not know what the view looks like from the passenger seat side, lol.

But, fuck he listens to me. When I see and notice what he does in the day for me, I can see that he has listened. He heard my rant or moan this morning. He saw my face twitch or noticed the raised eyebrow. And that means a lot. He’s not brushed off what I had to say. He actually heard what I had to say and he’s trying to help me or assist me.

H gives me kak though. He challenges me. He’s no push over and he won’t take shit from me. He makes me a better me. But he allows me to be me. He allows me to lead when I’m the one that should and He leads the way when he needs to, when I’m not strong enough.

He lets me make mistakes. He allows me to learn from them. He lets me mope around in pyjamas, and he lets me be super sexy me when I feel like it. He loves me without make up (I don’t know what the fuck make up is). He loves me when I have my winter fat, he loves me when I’m summer skinny.

When I decide to shave off long blonde locks down to a nr 1 he lets it be.

He lets me be me. He facilitates,  appreciates, supports me and most important of all allows me to grow into the awesome person I’m destined to become. We have managed to grow together. Sometimes one grows and other has to play catch up. But if one lets the other one be, give them the space to get there in their own time it seems to work.

As twenty somethings we got up to a lot of shit together. We had a lot of fun together. Many a pre-dawn cheese burger combos were had after a late night out. Now we’re all about healthier living and exercise and kids haha.

In a world where marriage is frowned upon, divorce is rife blah blah. And don’t get me wrong. I’m all for feminism and chicks can do what men do. We’re no conventional duo. He does the cooking (I hate cooking) and I do the handyman shit. 
I think we might just have managed to find the “right one” , that “happily ever after” bullshit and yes 3 kids later we’re still madly in love.

After 15years together and still getting jealous of eachother (in a healthy way) and simply just being eachothers best friends I think we might just be ok.

As well as we know eachother we still have a lot to learn. But we are having fun.

I love you H. You’re pretty fucking cool. And I’m enjoying life’s journey with you by my side.