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.

Mastering the art of scheduling.

I’d like to think of myself as ‘a jack of all trades, master of fuck all’ or a ‘creative logistical problem solver’. 

As whimsical, misguided and aimless as that sounds it’s turned out to be one of My strengths. 

My first proper job after waitressing for years to get myself through studies was in production in the colourful film industry of cape town. I love the film industry. It has been good to me. Over the past decade and a half I’ve gone back to it when the opportunity has presented itself in between apprenticeships of shoe making and pregnancies etc.

As a young twenty something scheduling and movements orders of clients, crews etc was part of my job description and oh boy, did I not get it. I used to just wing it and hope for the best. I had an idea, a vague one but didn’t actually know what I was doing.

Now as a mum of 3 with 3 school drop offs and 4different schedules to merge with a dear husband that doesn’t drive ( yes! He doesn’t drive. I’ve made peace with that) I’ve become an absolute master of scheduling and movement orders. 

I know exactly what time to leave the flat in the morning if I want to get kids to school on time. Leaving 5min later can have dire consequences. 

I also know that if I do leave 14min later of desired time I’ll still be fine but it’ll be like a nail biting scene from Speed and sadly you won’t have Keanu by your side.

Sadly, I’m also that type of person that likes being early or on time at the least. A1 unfortunately has inherited this trait from me. I’ve learnt over the years to relax a bit on this demand I place on myself and do know that arriving alive and well is definitely the preferred option but getting the maximum out of one’s day requires some scheduling.

Having said all that….

I also have a spur of the moment spirit within me and don’t  like routine.

Yes, a bit contradicting but I’m a complex female at best, deal with it. 

I know cape town traffic pretty well. I can now tell you how long it’ll take from cbd to pinelands at any given time. Because yes the dreaded de waal drive has to be tackled. De waal drive isn’t actually the problem. It’s the bottle-neck-one-lane-effect of the garden centre bridge which could literally give you time to do the perfect eyebrow pluck if you are prepared.

When it rains … Yes … somehow capetonians forget how to drive or how to leave on time or something. I can’t explain it but that saying is pretty fucking true.

Anything happening at parliament like SONA will mess with your schedule. Any accident anywhere in the city will put a spanner in the works and whatever you do, never ever take the flyover from n1 highway onto upper carriage way past cticc into town. 

You’ll be plucking eyebrows, do a smoky eye (not that i even know what make-up is) and be able to tackle gr3 homework before you hit the first traffic light and sing let it go from frozen like a billion times.

I know some cool short cuts, I also know that sometimes taking that short cut isn’t going to help you one bit and that it’ll be best to stay in your lane, put the radio on and sing along to Adele’s latest ballade,  much to one’s kids annoyance, hehe.

Another tip is to just have the radio on in general to stay up to speed with traffic related issues. 

2 to 3 hours in the car on any given day in between school, work, the playdate, swimming lessons, the occupational therapist etc is no joke. And yes sometimes I feel like I’ve been reduced to just being a driver. Getting everyone to where they need to be on time always leaves me with a sense of achievement. Not that this always happens. I do get it wrong on some days. I’m not perfect, sadly;)

But this is some serious skills parenting or having to wrangle 3 kids has taught me. 

Skills that would have come in handy when I was actually being paid to do schedules and movement orders. Lol

The fashion of today, explained…


I’m a mum of three and business owner with my husband. Life’s busy to say the least but with my smart phone and my diary with lists from here to Kathmandu I reckon I’m pretty capable. Haha.

This morning i felt good. Tired. But good. I felt like everything was under control and it was going to be a good day. I had my shit in order and under control.

Yesterday having  been valentines day (vomit) was a good day but super long. It started at 6 in the morning getting 3 kids to 3 different schools and only ended at about 1 the following morning when I got to bed and shoved 3 slices of pizza down before passing out.

On this glorious sunny morning I was up at 5:30. Yes doing homework with my 8yr old son we neglected to do yesterday because I had to work a double in our restaurant. But we got through our 3 times table and spelling and the use of are and is and got on with our day.

I felt good because for the first time we were going to go to our afternoon swimming lesson with all the necessary paraphenalia ie the elusive swimming cap and the goggles. I had made a point of buying 5 swimming caps yesterday because I can never find the one we do have on the day I need it.

Life was good. We were on time not rushing and had our shit in order. 

I did what I could at work till 14:00 and set off to get A2 and A1 so we could get to our swimming lesson on time against all odds of cape town afternoon traffic.

We got to swimming early!!!!!!! I felt so proud of myself. For once it felt like I’m on top I things and not going to drop a ball today.

It’s A2’s first swimming lesson, she’s 3, and we’re in it to win  it.

A2 being who she is (moody) decided after 5min that she is not keen on this swimming  thing.  I’m all for kids making their own choices and not being forced but today I knew I had to get her into this swimming lesson thing as she does love the water being named after the little mermaid, Ariel.

Being the hands-on mummy that I am I got onto the first step of the pool and tried to get A2 comfortable with coming in after me. Then down  to the next step. The coach then looked at me and just said you know you’d just going to have to swim and get in yourself.

I didn’t have a problem with that, but somehow that was something I neglected in my planning and Kathmandu list this morning. A swimming costume for mummy!!!!!

Eish, coach looked at me and just said your dress will dry quickly in this summer sun. I didnt need much coaxing, i was in, dress and all with A2 and after 5min I could hand her over to coach and they had a lovely first swimming lesson together while I watched from the step with my son in my wet dress lol.

My dress was never going to dry in time so I thought i’d check my bag of tricks. Maybe there would be something amongst the nappies, goggles, dinosaurs, hot rod cars i could wear, there had to be something…

Yes! This dinosaur Hoodie for an 8yr old and his pt shorts whahahaha. So luckily I’m stupidly small for an adult, 8yr olds being my height and my son is stupidly tall for his age and wears 12 yr old clothing already. So it’s a win win situation.

I squeezed myself into his dinosaur Hoodie and pt shorts and off we went. Still dropped his friend off at home having to explain to his lovely mum the bizarre fashion of the day. 

Had to fetch A3 from school having to explain myself to teacher. Because of course A3 piped up: “but mummy, why are you wearing boeta’s clothes?”

Still went to work to check in and get hubby for quick dinner before he went back for night shift at restaurant and I went home with kids.

In my books, today was a good day. 

Yes, I dropped a ball and had to rock a dinosaur Hoodie meant for an 8yr old boy and probably scarred my kids for life, haha. But today was pretty good in the grand scheme of things.

My dress still isn’t dry…