life is weird and funny at times…

Yesterday was a day of some epic proportions. What started off as a simple normal Tuesday morning getting kids to school, slowly but surely turned into a catalogue of errors.

Car had to go in for a service which isn’t a train smash. I like the way it slows down the day and one gets to walk all be it in the rain. The much needed rain for Cape Town. With the odd uber in between it’s a lovely change from always driving and dealing with annoying fellow drivers that’s just racing from one point to the next.

This meant that kids and I walked and talked after school. Enjoyed little local spots for some iced tea and eventually ubered home. To find that nanny and A3 isn’t home. 

I knew they were at the library so we soldiered up the dreaded uppermill street (a treacherous hill at best) to go get them there. Listened to the librarian reading a story to the kids and sang along to Old McDonald had a farm. 

This was all still nice and just dandy. A lovely afternoon spent with my kids, some quality time stuff, you know.

This is where everything took a turn for the weird and annoying.

We ran home downhill. Dropped as many bags as we could at home and summoned the final uber of the day so that we could go collect the car.

In we hop, and the more I say just head straight to N1 so we can possibly beat the horrible peak traffic the more he edged into Woodstock. I then figured out it was so that he could put in petrol. 

Already annoyed with the driver that accepted my trip knowing full well he doesn’t have enough petrol for trip, the kids didn’t help.

My phone was dying(need it for uber) kids were irritable. A3 decided it was a good time to start screaming for mummies phone so that she could play games. The more I explained she can’t have my phone, the more A1 annoyed her trying to reitterate what mummy was saying and it all just turned into a backseat ride from hell. Poor A2 just sat quietly and stared at the rest of us.

Sitting on lower main road in traffic that’s now come to a complete freaking standstill in this backseat of spoilt brats screaming I thought to myself…

Where as a parent have I gone wrong to have 3 kids behaving like they are currently? Not listening to a word I’m saying and acting like right old spoilt brats which I try very hard not to do. I’m tough with my kids, as much love and attention I give them they don’t get everything they ask for.

Just before I started feeling really sorry for myself and going round in circles in my brain I snapped out of it and made a quick decision.

Cars were just not moving. It’s 16:30 and there is no way we will make it to paarden eiland by 17:00. So it’s basically either walk from woodstock or walk from paarden eiland by which time we would have had no phone to call and have missed collection time of car. 

With my last bit of phone battery and 1% dignity intact I cancelled uber trip, paid and told kids to get out the car.

Poor driver (not) still shouted after me asking what am I going to do now. I said I’ll be just fine, he doesn’t need to worry.

And off we marched back into town from Woodstock. I have to say by this time the kids didn’t think much of this and just walked with me. I think they might have sensed my deep seated annoyance with them. We had the lovely view of signal hill and lionshead to look at with the odd bit of rain.

With the last bit of battery I had left I called H, my husband, to explain the situation I find myself in. Ok, it wasn’t explaining it was more like shouting incoherently and I couldn’t really think of what I needed him to do. 

Bless his soul, he got a cab and came down to the good hope centre to come get us and took us back to the restaurant.

He had a chat with the kids while I sat in his office and just enjoyed some quiet time.

But just wait for this…

This day isn’t done quite yet…

This is where shit gets decidedly funny…

Charging my phone, I start going through messages and emails and respond to as many as I can. The restaurant and rooftop bar is in demand, it being season and loads of people willl find me on facebook and use messenger to contact me inregards to bookings etc.


I respond to one fb msg just saying ‘hey.’

I’m like yes, I’m here, how can I help thinking it’s a rooftop enquiry.

She needs to talk to me, I’m like yes, let’s chat I have time now.

According to her she just needs to let me know that my husband has made her pregnant…


Now I know most men are probably scoundrels and they don’t have a good rap at the moment with the huge Hollywood scandal going down. But my husband is one of the few good men out there.

Just logistically, we work together as we run our business together, which is a restaurant, which is open 6 days from 07:00 in morning till 23:00 at night.

He is always at the restaurant being the chef.

Physically, he’s had a vasectomy. So ….

Chances of him impregnating anyone is somewhat impossible. I do know this because we have a healthy sex life and I’m sure as hell ain’t pregnant. So the vasectomy of 2,5years ago has definitely worked, hahaha.

So you understand me now laughing at this girl that’s trying her luck.


I proceed to ask her what’s my husband’s name. She says she doesn’t know…

I then asked where did they meet and engage in such a manner that she’s now pregnant. She says P.E…..

My husband has never in the 15years that we’ve been together been to P.E.

I think she thought I have some business man hubby that travels for work a lot and therefore gets up to shit. Shame…

I just said to her it’s physically and geographically impossible for my husband to have impregnated her.

She then proceeded to tell me to fuck off and to leave her alone, bwahahahaha.

I’m sorry, but that was hysterically funny after the day I’ve had. Showed H the messages, we had a laugh. The kids and I finally got our last uber for the day home so we could go chill and sleep.

Only to find that we have no toilet paper…


A1, A2 & A3 aka my kids

So, I’ll be brutally honest. Yes, we have 3 kids but out of the 3 only 1 was planned. Luckily the middle one so maybe we can counteract the middle child bullshit with the fact that we actually consciously tried for her. Oh well whatever.
They do drive me up the wall. Don’t get me wrong, morning school runs isn’t fun. The mom soccer taxi or soccer mom schedule isn’t a joke and gets me down half the time.

But I’m naturally a person of optimism or that person that always sees the silver lining even in a very dark stormy cloud. I’m just like that.

So A1 we conceived in England. A very short year after arriving there. Never planned that. I went to do an apprenticeship in shoemaking. Yes, it’s been a life long dream to be a cobbler. H went to spread his wings as a chef. And oh did he do so well. So proud of him.

But essentially I was pregnant from the get go in a foreign country with no friends with a chef boyfriend that worked 16 hr days.

For someone that didn’t plan parenthood, yes I know, but with the love of my life, it was inevitable, in foreign country, little friends and to be hit by post natal depression (like a ton of bricks ) and a torn rectum….(those facts they seem to neglect to tell you when having a child)….

I had 2 acquaintances that I forced myself onto literally child and get through grey gloomy english days. And i’d like to think now that even though we are on 3 different continents and we haven’t seen each other in years we have  become friends. 

My grandmother dying 9000kms away while I was in a deep pit dark pit of post natal depression I think at age 98 for her was my last lesson or saving grace from her. I still remember my mum on phone saying just go home chill, cry have a drink and it’s all ok. 

I distinctly remember A1 looking at me that eve from his pram at 10months. He knew his mummy was experiencing extreme pain of loss. He somehow understood it. He asked why I was crying. I said I would be ok and just held him. He somehow just knew he shouldn’t give me any 10month old bollie.

Between him just cuddling me, my nan dying and my husband’s support the scary very real place of post natal depression was a thing of the past.

I have a soft spot for A1. Even now at 8 he is a sensitive gental soul. He has an acute instinctive understanding of emotions. Not that he quite gets it but he definitely has a feeling towards it. He has simply hauled my ads through some of the scariest bits of parenthood and he has shown me how and what type of parent I want to be.

As for A2…

She is here to haunt me somehow. She is I think the closest to what I was as a kid. Or she has the same interests i.e. drawing and ballet.

So somehow I’m trying to teach or nurture her passions because I get what she likes about those things. But trying to not be the overbearing mother and still just wanting you to do what you do because you love what you do. 

She is a moody cow, I suppose the apple doesn’t fall far…

She is strong and determined but shy. She makes you work hard for her affection. She’s not easily won over, she’s pure, consistent hard work lol.

Went to her first ever ballet demo today. I know she loves it. She forever shows me her first position and plies with arm’s. She has great posture. She’ll go far in the world of ballet with her posture and her  sense of wanting to perform if she wants to.

But today she didn’t want any of it. She was royally pissed off that I was there to watch her sacred  ballet class. And she refused to do anything. She stood on the side with her perfect posture just observing what her peers were doing.

She continued after school by giving me an earful about how I should never just drop into her ballet class. I didn’t just drop by I would never do that. I was invited by teacher like other parents to come watch….


What a surprise she was. Hahaha

There’s only a year and 2 weeks between her and A2. You do the math… Yes we did miss the class on contraception and over populating the planet.

In the same breath we  are very conscious about teaching our kids how they should and can take care of planet. They know where their food comes from, not to easy water etc.

Anyway. A3 is somehow in her feisty happy self here to rule the household. With that air of Aries she has also just brought absolute pure happiness, laughs, smiles and a real joy for life. Sometimes annoyingly so but she just does. 

She sings. She loves to sing. She’s going to love gymnastics. She’s a real true little daredevil with no concern of her own limbs. And when she does get hurt she’ll most probably just get up dust herself off and laugh uncontrollably. She has an infectious laugh. I think she’s pretty nuts half the time. She’s the one that manages to turn your lounge into a full on red bull extreme sports obstacle course and she has enough charisma to convince everyone else to follow her in her craziness. With a laugh and  giggle.

She has oh brought joy and she has shown us all how to just laugh again. That laugh from the belly.

So ja…

Soccer mom much…

Yes they drive me nuts…

Between the swimming the homework the lunch boxes Trying to inspire and nurture and feed them ‘correctly’ the endless  hearing of “MOMMY” sleepless nights wet beds tantrums smiles ….

Somehow they are all here to teach me a life lesson or two. Their here to challenge me and to make me a better person. I’m not saying parenthood is for everyone. I truly admire people that chose not to over populate the planet. 

I somehow think I’ve found my true calling.

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.

The dreaded sleepy time (and my forever altered sleeping pattern)

I’m lucky to run my own business. I say this because as demanding and stressful as that is I’m in charge of my own time. And I’m a real bitch about it.

As easy going as I am, don’t mess with my time. There’s little of it and it’s precious. I schedule and plan days and weeks into Narnia and back to maximise productivity but from 14:00 in afternoons I’m dedicated to my kids whether it’s the mom taxi or painting walls or jumping around on trampolines laughing and getting a work out.

Sleepy time though. SO FRUSTRATING RIGHT NOW. So I’ve got 3 kids. There’s a 5yr gap between A1 and A2. And somehow I don’t recall it being such an ordeal with A1.

There was a rough bit, but with patience and determination we overcame it and all fell into place. I’ve always done sleepy time by myself as hubby is a chef that works night time. Actually prefer that because whatever I say freaking goes.

But I have to say A2 and A3 is giving me a run for my money. Maybe it’s because there’s only a year difference between the two. And yes we missed the class on contraception but happily so. And maybe it’s because their at that still terrible 3 going on 20 stage where they feel like they have to test you after you’ve had a long day of buying veg, picking the perfect cuts of meat, had Sherlock-Holmes-like investigations into cash ups and staff stealing, to lawyers and landlords, God I can go on for days. It’s been a rough 3weeks.

I’m also quite a stickler for routine when it comes to my kids. I do believe that provides them with security and boundaries etc but YOH my 3 are seriously taking the piss at the moment.

I’m at the point now that if you’re not in bed by 20:30 after bathy and bedtime story vibe blah blah blah, you’re pretty much left to your own devices and are free to pass out where and when you feel fit. I simply give up. I simply just don’t have the energy.

I also think from breastfeeding A2 and A3 consecutively over a period of 3 years have forever altered my sleep pattern.

I’m now forever bound to that 3hr breastfeeding sleep pattern. My best sleep is from about 22:00 till 02:00. From there on  I’ll read. Love my murder mysteries. Reply to emails. Catch up on world news. You name it I’ll do it from 2 onwards and if I can grab another hour or so before getting up at 6 to get kids ready for school I’m forever greatful.

It’s probably a form of insomnia, but quite frankly I don’t have time to address that or stress about it. Maybe it’s my body and mind’s way of giving me ME-TIME. lol. That’s also great haha because atleast from 2 in the morning I can read a book in peace and quiet without having to hear “mommy, mommy”, “where’s my socks”, “can you tell me how many seats there are for passengers on a plane?” Etc etc.

I can even go to the toilet without having to answer to anyone, haha.

Oh well, I hope sleepy time sorts itself out. I’ve surely put enough patience, determination and effort into it. As for my early morning me time… I won’t wish that away just yet. It’s my sanctuary.

I’ll sleep when I’m dead…hehe

And please do not tell me I look tired. That’s the “I don’t wear make-up, like as in ever look” not because I have 3 kids and don’t take care of myself bullshit. I hardly wore make up before kids and still choose not to, I simply don’t have time for such crap.

Go go go, like a go-go dancer…

This has been one hell of a week. From A2’s fourth birthday, through bank investigations, staff meetings, home affairs, traffic departments and some more bank stories, it’s been one hell of a week.
The restaurant has been crazy busy. Not complaining, but wow, for lunch and dinner it has been packed with birthday parties, bachelor parties, Harvard school of business been, you name it, they came.

All I want to say in this regards is thank you for the support and keep on coming.

In and amongst all this I’ve had to replace my life, ie the I.d. card, drivers licence etc. Yes the dreaded trip to home affairs loomed with that awful queue that always stretches past maverick.

But as luck may have it, I timed it with that wonderful rainy day where cape town roads were so congested to a point that there were no queue at home affairs. So home affairs was actually a breeze.

The traffic dept was also strangely enough not bad. Maybe this is a mid month thing. I don’t know, but not complaining. Until I got to the last counter where they asked for my marriage certificate. So, same face, same I.d. number, same fingerprints, same name, just the surname that had changed and no…

They could not possibly assist me any further till I brought this stupid piece of paper. Got the same at the bank I went to. Bleh. So much for gender equality.

This got my blood boiling though. But got through all of it, fb rant and all. Did lots of admin at work. Met with great people that want to do launch parties in basement. Spoilt myself with sneakers.

And yes amongst all this made time for kids in afternoon and got them to their things and made sure they were fed and breathing, lol.

We even had some family time with dad squeezed in between shifts. I’ve done meat shopping and veg shopping for shop.

A1 and I even attempted the learning of how to ride a bicycle again. The first attempt was awful as per previous post, yes. But we went for a second time. And through some tears and me managing to keep my cool and A2 quietly eating her icecream with some actresses cheering A1 on….

He did it!!!!! Not before long I was running in front of him not holding on and cheering him on.

I did my happy dance and high fived him. He just said I’m weird. I probably am, haha, but I simply could not contain my happiness, my joy and how proud I was of him.

It was definitely the achievement of the week and just made all the madness seem ok.

And then we had to go straight into a staff meeting and dinner wih the folks.

So this week might have been a go go go. Wish I was a go-go dancer haha. Always looks like so much fun. With all the running I’ve done up and down promenade next to bike I’m definitely fit enough. Who needs the gym when one has kids. Lol.

Here’s to a much needed relaxing weekend away with hubby. We sure as hell deserve it after this week.

Kids and their moods.

I forget sometimes that my kids come with their own personalities and moods of the day. One doesn’t always know what went down at school and maybe something happened like it does for us adults that have put them in a mood.

I had my day all planned. Got through my list of crap to do at work. Whacked it out of the park so to say. Was proud of myself and set off to get A1 and A2. I had this plan that we were going to go to the promenade, hire a bicycle and get A1 started on learning how to ride a bike. 

Oddly enough a day after the blown out argus, yes (that’s pure coincidence) but it’s a beautiful day out and we’re going to go do this thing.

Now don’t get me wrong. We have attempted the bicycle before but this child and balance are just not friends. It’s way better than it’s been, the balance thing, and I do feel now is the right time for him but ja. I’m going to have my work cut out.
We also live in a flat so buying bikes for all three where there’s no garage for storage etc is stupid. We’d always had a small car that has died in the winelands recently so transporting bicycles….and the hills of vredehoek isn’t exactly condusive to kids learning for the first time unless they’re daredevils doing time trials for some redbull extreme show.

So the aim of the day was….

Let’s attempt and just try for an hour. We don’t have to get it right. We simply have to try, without crying and giving up. Then there’s icecream up for grabs. Whoop whoop. We’re going to do this!

Ja right….

So as I’ve mentioned before as an 8yr old this child is about my size because I’m just a short shit as an adult.

So this must have been hysterical to watch. Me holding onto bike trying to keep his balance while shouting that he should stop leaning to one side and keep peddling. A2 just strolled behind us with her hands in her pockets. I’ve probably scarred her for life.

Short before long we had the tears and me now shouting out of frustration. Him with a helmet and me with his school cap on. Sorry school.

Him not wanting to ever ride a bike and now wanting icecream. Me, trying to explain that there’s still 200m to go whether we liked it or not before we get to the icecream shop and the stall that we hired bike from lol.

We both somehow managed to suck it up and reign it in and made another attempt at riding.

We got to have icecream. Not sure who needed it more after all the drama lol.

Anyway. Being by my parents I had a chat with them asking their advice. Think I went into today a bit unprepared haha. My mum just laughed. She just said it was a lot harder than I remembered it to be and that I need to exert more patience.

She gave me some great advice and I feel that I’ll have a better approach on Thursday when we attempt this whole bike riding thing again. A1 and I managed to have a chuckle over today and we’re both keen to go at it again.

I just  don’t seem to remember learning to ride a bike being so difficult!!! Maybe my memory fails me. I remember it being scary but I thought I got the hang of it quickly.

Oh well, between his crying and my tantrum I just don’t think our moods were compatible today. 

We usually enjoy eachothers company and have great fun together.

One can’t always schedule events and things with kids like one does work related stuff.

Sometimes they’re also having an off day like some of us adults do.

I’m not superwoman. ┬áDeal with it.

I’m not superwoman, I’ve made peace with it, I’m more than ok with this. Listen, I do get pretty close to being superwoman but I’m not.
On a daily bases I get 3 kids to school on time, remember to pack their lunches and remind them of afterschool activities. I drive them where they need to be. Yes, I do sometimes forget the swimming cap. Fok, last week I forgot my cozzie and had to swim in my dress. Deal with it.

I then do most admin with my sidekick at work and thank god if I didn’t have her i’d be a fucking sad mess. Yes, i do forget conversations had meetings made etc. I have a diary and a smart phone but jeeze sometimes I do drop a ball or 2. Deal with it.

I do anything from painting, decorating, paperwork, banking, staff issues, suppliers, customers etc. Yes sometimes I fuck up, not perfect. Deal with it.

I sometimes forget to get the garbage out on time for garbage trucks.

And yes teachers. Sometimes I forgot to read that letter or new photo day procedure. But jissie. Dont accost me for it. Rather just nag and remind me and I’ll get there. I can’t possibly remember everything and do everything.

Sadly, sometimes I need some help. Yes, there I said it. As strong as I am and as much shit as I can shovel (I’m a pretty tough cookie) I do occassionally need help.

Yes most of the time i look tired. Don’t remind me, please. I chose to have 3 kids and have a business of my own and yes I’m pretty tired always. I’m not a Kardashian and refuse to dress up or do make up. I dress with what I feel comfortable in or sexy in depending the occasion. And yes when I feel like slaying it I can. Been blessed with good genes. But this will not happen everyday all day. And my face will never know make up. Hate the stuff, don’t get it. That’s just me. So atleast what you seeing is pretty much as real as it’s going to get and I refuse to hide behind make up. Deal with it.

My hair is another story. I like being creative with it so don’t judge the odd shave etc. But most of the time i dont actually enjoy the maintenance of hair and will just the it up.

There’s a weekly photo shoot at restaurant at this point in time with magazines, newspapers bloggers etc pulling in. And the website that’s coming. Radio interviews. There’s film shoots pulling in soon. Social media is also a daily slog die to today’s society.

I pick fresh herbs and veggies every other morning with hubby for restaurant. I go to butcher to pick meat with hubby. We handpick most of our produce as we actually care about what we use and serve.

I deal with engineers and architects on daily bases. Yes, I’m busy project managing a rooftop construction. briefing carpenter’s and builders. Which reminds me I need to get on to carpenter’s case today!

I try and get kids to their dad so they can have time together. As hubby works night shift as well.

So yes I do the the bath, sleepy time routine all by myself every night. That’s fine, but by the time I’ve gotten everyone to bed I’m pretty dead myself.

I’m a hands on mother. I refuse to let anyone else raise my kids for me. What was the point of having them if you were going to pass that responsibility on to other people. So yes they spend time at restaurant. A1 already helps in kitchen. They go herb picking with us on weekends etc.

I find myself waking up in middle of the night answering emails. Yes, i use every minute to my disposal to get to everything i have to.

I’ve even now forgotten to mention the ten million other things I do on a daily bases.

Sometimes I drop a ball. It’s ok, I’m fine with it.

Atleast I take some time out to go do de-stressing with my kids. And to take an hour out of the day to go trampoline jumping with my kids is a pretty fucking awesome way of laughing and exercise all in one.

I’m ok with not being superwoman. Hope you’re ok with it. And if I am asking for help, know that I’m at the end of whatever superwoman I had in me. Lol

Sunday Funday, or shall I say, the death of a laptop…

Sundays are sacred in our household. Not that we’re religious or anything but it’s the only day of the week we have together as a family to do fun stuff and dont have to work. Having said that, we do tend to end up at a market or winefarm to try new cheeses or wine and end up buying stuff for the restaurant.

This particular Sunday started quieter than usual, more peaceful. Strange, should have seen it as an omen but one counts one’s blessings and enjoy the moments of bliss.

I got to sleep in a bit. The kids were all friends this morning not fighting and got on with their morning routine of cereal and movies and playing ball.

I appreciated the lie in as I had been up with a tummy bug all night but that won’t stop me from our usual action packed Sundays.

Eventually I hauled myself out of bed and went to shop with A3 in just a tutu and frilly socks with big brother’s 2 odd slip slips. (One is black and for 4yr old, one is blue and for 8yr old and their both left feet).

She’s creative or strange like this whichever way you look at it and I let her be.

We left the others at home with dad and went to do our weekly grocery shopping so we are ready for school lunches at the least.

But the south easter is howling at gale force speeds up in vredehoek’s streets. I had to literally hold on to A3 to make sure she didn’t blow away.

Another part of the Sunday morning ritual is grabbing 2 take away coffees. Just imagine holding on to 2 hot coffees and a child and trying to open a car door. My sunglasses went flying, I was like fuck it, don’t care. BUT as A3 was laughing at me her face turned into instant upset, I’m screaming now mode.

I then realised the wind had swept away one of her left feet slops. So where I didn’t give a fuck about my glasses I was now in superwoman mode. We had to save the slop and save the mood of A3 if we were going ro have any luck in havig a happy sunday. Nothing qorse than one kid moping over a slop that was swept away vy the wind.

In the car lets hunt down our windswept glasses and slops.

The glasses were easy enough but the freaking slip slop proceded to elude us a couple of times. We’ll find it. Park car. I’ll get to it. And as I want to grab it the wind will blow it away. Yes, that’s how ridiculously strong the wind was. But after attempt 3 we triumphed and got the slop and headed home.

At home we climbed our staircase, 3 grocery bags hanging on one arm, 2 hot coffees balancing in other hand needless to say I required help opening top gate. I yelled out to A1 to come open up but there was an eerily dead silence in our household. Now i don’t know about you but I don’t think a household containing 3 kids are ever quiet unless their all asleep or conspiring to do something naughty.

Eventually hubby and A1 came to help and A1 was just babbling at me incoherently going on about something that had happened while I was gone for all of half an hour.

So turns out that A1 was assisting A2 with a movie on the laptop, probably lion king, that is the favourite at the moment. A2 somehow got a bee in her bonnet, she can be so bedonnerd (moody) sometimes and she threw the laptop out of frustration and it split apart into many pieces.

But it’s Sunday funday so I said right, dad has done what he could to put it together, i have been good at backing up our work on our hard drive, i am not letting a laptop ruin my Sunday funday.

This was sort of an attempt to show kids that material things at the end of the day isn’t important and always replaceable. (Secretly I was stressing about laptop because replacing this shit always costs money)


We packed up and off we went to the winelands for a beautiful picnic under the trees. The kids played to their heart’s content on endless jungle gyms, jumping castles and a waterslide. Forgetting of their laptop dilemma. (We don’t have tv so any movie watched is on or via laptop, lol)

I got my weekly gym session in having to assist with monkey bars and swings etc.

We went home after much fun was had and bellies were full, boxes of wine purchased for restautant, for the much dreaded weekly washing and brushing of hair. Now, when all 3 kids have lovely curly locks prone to naturally dread brushing and washing it is a dreadful affair. And dont tell me about “de-tangle” it doesnt work. Turns out the good old coconut oil manouvre works best. But even this went ok this Sunday.

I charged the laptop wanting to see whether there’s any life left in it and miraculously it came to life. The screen has a lovely crack across it but I suppose that’s fixable.

We watched our movies and A2 and A3 eventually passed out in my arms.

I went back to my toilet hugging as the bug clearly hadn’t left my body yet. But we had a good sunday.

TFIW! (thank fuck it’s weekend)or zero fucks given as hubby’s cap states


Is all I can say. 

So the week has been full on. Friday was a test of true character. So out of the 13 hours I was out the flat, that excludes getting kids up and ready and the dreaded fucking ma se poes sleepy time. Excuse my language but I’ve tried everything and sleepy time with 3 different souls and personalities is just simply poes.

Anyway, so out of those 13 yrs out of flat I spent 8hrs, yes 8hrs on the road. It was anything from school run, to meat collection from lovely organic grass fed local butcher in durbanville, to driving mum because i’m privileged to using her car as my car died in winelands 2 months ago to getting kids from school, to golf practise for A

1 to sneaky power nap (was only 25min but fuck was it good) to liquor shopping for restaurant to blah blah blah. With tantrums and all. I cracked and had atleast 2 melt downs with tears. I even caught myself shouting “WHAT” at A3 in a parking lot and saw an elderly man looking at me, judging me. He very quickly got my evil eye and realised it would be better to just ignore me and go on with his life spared.

We died atleast 3 times on the roads due to other reckless drivers but luckily I’m pretty on it and anticipate this kak so we made it and survived the dangerous roads for today.

So after a long week like this one in particular, my idea of me-time(and this is really sad but fuck it is what it is) and a spoil for the kids as they live on a wheat free sugar free diet in general is an hour at the spur.

They get to eat all the crap their not usually allowed, they can jump their last energy out on a jumping castle and I can eat a mediocre meal without having to share it with anyone. Yes I eat my meal in silence by myself and only call kids from play area once I’ve devoured my last fucking chip.

Phone flat from a day of calls, emails and frozen YouTube vids and endless whatsapp group chats from school I very happily sit in silence staring at cricket on tv screens in silence.

A2 then suddenly pipes up that we should go to beach. I look outside and i’m like shit there’s only an hour of sunlight left but let’s fucking go. This is the spur of the moment me talking now.

So we take away, we pay our bill and off we go to the beach. 

Get to beach, so beautiful, you’re reminded once again why you live in cape town. Kids are splashing around in sea in their clothes as i didn’t pack in swimmimg costumes. This is a spur of the moment thing. You only live once fuck it.

A1 pipes up but there’s lots of plastic in ocean bringing me 3 plastic bags. So I said, well make a pile of garbage by my bag as you swim watching the romantic sunset and we’ll carry it up and put it in a bin as we go to the car.

I felt quite sad seeing my son on a mission to clean up the sea as we’re enjoying the last rays of sunshine, BUT I then thought fuck I must be doing something right somewhere if my 8yr old feels compelled to clean up a beach. 

This is when the crap sleepy times, tantrums, 2yr old whining, poo nappies , vomit on clothes, driing up and down etc all kind of seems worth it.