mom@work

THE LEGWARMER

2011-08-24T01:38:00.000-07:00

So I'm not much a 'shoe person'. Never have been. Perhaps not all due to choice either. I, for one, don't have loads of spare cash to indulge myself on shoe shopping. So I've trained myself to enjoy the basic necessary shoes and yearn for no more than that. So my pair of Adidas have taken me far and probably will continue to do so. And I'm glad. Because I like them.

Then winter rolled in, and with it, a boot craze like there's never been before. EVERYONE is wearing boots. Long boots, mostly. Which is not good for me, because I have short legs. So a boot that's supposed to stop above the calf on everyone else, takes me halfway up the knee, managing to just look ridiculous enough to be considered not an option.

My Mom always stressed that I had to dress according to what suited me, not what was fashionable. Because I'm short, this is something I've been forced to do, as not all the fashions suit me at all (regrettably, most of them actually have the opposite effect!).

Anyway, before I start lamenting abut my trials and tribulations as a 'shorty', let me get back onto my subject; The Legwarmer.

So after dragging myself through various shops, I finally found a pair of boots that caught my attention. Black, medium heel, not too thick (the thinner the heel the more I like it!). But best of all, it stopped at the top of my calf like it was supposed to do and it had folds of woolly material sewn on it - to resemble a leg warmer. Just up my alley. Anything that looks remotely like it could be related to 'dance' tickles my fancy something awful.

So I bought the boots.
Alas, they lasted about a month and got holes in the sides. Cheap Chinese Shit. And there goes my favourite boots.

So off I go shopping for more boots. But nothing compares to my favourite boots. My only boots. I have to have another pair of boots, we are only halfway through winter now. So I drag myself through some more shops and finally stumble into a small corner shop in China Town and here is a pair of ankle boots that I could grudgingly wear. It was obvious I wasn't going to find my legwarmer boots again.

It was only about two weeks later that the idea struck me. Forgotten, in my underwear cupboard was some pairs of legwarmers that used to belong to Mom. Back from her 80's gyming days. They went with the tights and the one-piece leotards, complete with headbands and wrist guards. I think they did things with such style those days. Now, a baggy tracksuit pants and sloppy t-shirt is what people are wearing to exercise in.

Anyway, so there I was, a pair of bright red legwarmers in my hand and a plan.

Wearing my new fashion statement to work for the first time, I noticed startled looks, not sure if it was because of the bright red or Return of The Legwarmer. But either way - I liked how it looked, AND it was warm. So I don't really care what they thought of The Look.

I was thus inspired to go and research on the legwarmer. Not much out there in the way of information. I found a few forums where people's comments were extremely negative. It would appear that in some countries the legwarmer made a brief comeback some years ago (around 2004) and was not favourably received. I saw it commented that the legwarmer was top of the lists of fashion disasters of the '80's.

Legwarmers were first designed by a company called KD Dance in 1980 with the purpose of keeping dancers' legs warms to avoid cramping while they warmed up and during the first parts of their rehearsal. They then became the rave for the first 4 years of the 80's - particularly when Flashdance and Footloose were released - only to disappear totally by the end of '84. During these four years though, they were worn in multi-colour, over jeans, with tights, with sneakers, with heels - just about any way you can imagine. And people either loved or hated it. Interestingly, apparently no dancer would have been caught dead wearing them anywhere other than when they were dancing - or so the story goes.

So I am inspired to try to bring the Legwarmer back. Though it might be a bit late, as the shops are already displaying their summer ranges. So it might just me - doing my bit for legwarmers.

I also found an interesting article on how to make your own legwarmers by cutting off the sleeve of a jersey and weaving a ribbon through this cut off part, which would then go around the ankle.

The legwarmer should always start at the base of the ankle and could end anywhere up to the knee. If worn with pants, these should be tight, not make unseemly bulges at the ankle or above the legwarmer at the knee. It is also a good idea to colour-co-ordinate the legwarmer with an item of clothing you are wearing, such as your jersey. Part of the failure of the legwarmer in the '80's appears to be due to the insane colour schemes the girls wore. It seems that they even wore more than one set per leg - in outrageous non-matching colours. A sure-fire way to kill a fashion.

So there you have it - the history of The Legwarmer. And the way winter's are getting colder every year, I think there could be a place in every girl's wardrobe for a pair of legwarmers!

Above: From Footloose

Below: A more modern look?

Neither Here Nor There

2010-10-08T12:08:00.000-07:00

And so I did the thing I swore I wouldn't do - I stopped writing. Well, for the public anyway. It's not as if too many readers are missing anything, I didn't have all that many to begin with, and I found I could be more true to myself if I just wrote for myself. And so I did, in my personal blog - my 'dark blog' as I think of it. And I've been loving it. There I get to pour out all my thoughts and feelings without...weighing my words and trying to be funny or entertaining or politically correct. I can just be me. As a full time working woman and a mother of three, my time is really very limited, so I've been using the bit I've got to write in the 'dark blog'. But this blog stands - not forgotten - until I have something I have a need to share and then I'll write again, and that will be for the random reader who stumbles upon it and perhaps enjoys it. Till next time!

Letters To Inanimate Objects

2010-05-12T04:47:00.000-07:00

Claire Marie at Spontaneous Delight had a wicked idea to compose letters to inamimate objects. It tickled my fancy something awful, and I just couldn't resist. Had a good laugh at Kirsten at Wanderlust's posts as well!

So here goes:-

Dear Car Tyre
Why do you have to be flat on the morning that it's pouring with rain?

Dear Fingernail
You just had to wait until all ten were nice and long and then you go and break and leave me with nine.
What's with that?

Dear Stomach
I tanned you. I fed you. I reproduced in you. I put you on a diet so you could go flat again. I crunched you. I shimmied with you. And still you bloat and make me look fat. You ungrateful gas storer.

Dear Penis
No, you are not the king of the world. Get a haircut.

Dear Monday
I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.

Dear Cheesecake
You look so good I could eat you. But I won't. Because Stomach will probably have a problem with it.

Dear Computer
I love you. You're my true great love and I do not know what I'd do without you. You frustrate me when you are slow and you infuriate me when you freeze, but I just can't stay away.

Dear Hair
Stop falling out. We are not a dog. We do not malt at change of seasons. I wash you daily, I condition you regularly, you've been for a trip to the salon, I haven't coloured you for ages and ages. You have no excuse for this. Stop it. Stay in my head. Where you belong. Okay? Or else I'll cut you short. Dont' think I won't.

Lots of Love
E.D.

ml's & kg's

2010-05-02T14:40:00.000-07:00

As a new Mom now prepared for the arrival of your baby, you’re more than likely a formidable force. With the Baby Room as close to exact as you wanted and could get it, the little clothes all rinsed out with baby –friendly washing powder with softener in it, and all folded into neat organized piles and arranged in drawers and on shelves, with baby toiletries neatly lined up to an order that only you will notice – you are 100% ready for Baby. Well, aside from some pre-birth jitters, which everyone assures you is natural and which you will feel no matter how many children you have or in what manner.

Lethally armed with baby bag and personal bag for the hospital, your greatest weapon is your Knowledge Bag. All neatly filed in your mind is all the information you have gleaned through watching, listening and reading up about everything there is to know about babies so that you too will know what to do with the little person about to arrive.

And he arrives, pink, healthy and with lots of voice and you’re scared shitless and wonder what the fuck you’re going to do now? You’ve fed him, burped him, changed him, and still he cries? Help!!!

Suddenly there’s information overload. There’s too many things it could be, too many things it couldn’t be, too many choices to make. Why wasn’t it simpler? Why wasn’t there just a wrong and a right? A black and a white? Where did all the grey areas come from???

He’s not taking to the milk, he is restless, trouble winding him – god I need some sleep, I’m gonna crack here – he’s got thrush in his mouth, could it be his ears? Is that raspiness from his nose or his chest? Is it hay fever or is it more serious than that? Grasping frantically at straws, we try new bottles, one after another, a mad kinda gleam in our overtired, burning eyes hoping that this will be the one – this teety bottle here will be the magic wand that will solve all these baby problems. But it’s not. So we turn to the gripe options. Gripe water, Bennett’s, Behoedmiddlel, Telament, we even make a mixture of them, but still nothing seems to work.

He’s allergic to the milk, we decide and turn our slightly crazed mind to the Formula and start…well making a new Formula – pardon the pun, it was intended. But that only makes it worse. And now we are in despair.

At our six week checkup at the Doctor we are assured his well, as long as his weight is on par and he is growing steadily, all is well. So we forge doggedly ahead, keeping an eagle eye on the weight, because as long as it’s on track, everything else we’ve been doing is fine, it’s what the Doctor said.

And so our lives and our first months with our first born are ruled in ml’s and kg’s. Millimeters and Kilograms.

Urgh!!

Someone prove me wrong, but I’m willing to bet on it, the second time round is not so bad. You’ve shortlisted what worked in the past and will discover not everything works the same for one as for another and so you’ll shorten the list even more, but you’re not as focused on the range the world offers, just the one your world narrowed down. And you experiment a little here and tweak a little there, and *Wa-la*, you have a ‘formula’ that works for you. And you enjoy your second child even more than your first born – who, by the way, continues to be the guinea pig in your world of choices, as he grows and ml’s and kg’s are no longer an issue, but perhaps rather liters and Kilometers and so forth!

And then, for those lucky enough – yes, I meant it, lucky enough, to have a third child, the world melts away. There are no ml’s, there are no kg’s – besides the absolute necessary . There’s just you and him and instead of counting the ml’s, you’re counting his smiles, and instead of checking the kg’s, your watching him grow and wishing he’d stop, because you know it’s over before it began, and chances are, it’s your last shot to enjoy these precious few weeks. You leave the worrying to the Doctors and let him be exactly what he is, a precious baby child that doesn’t always need a reason to cry, because crying is what babies do, it’s their thing. It’s not you, Mom, doing something wrong, it’s just their thing they do. And this new found relaxation carries over to the baby too, and they tell you what a wonderful young man you’ve got, how friendly and how relaxed, and you smile secretly, because you’re taking all the credit for it, because you damn well earned it.

When Flowers Die

2010-04-23T08:10:00.000-07:00

How is it, I wonder to myself, that something so beautiful and given as a thoughtful gift, can cause pain to the receiver? Sounds silly, I know. Yet I can't help the twinge of real sorrow I feel as I watch a bunch of roses wither and die. Roses that were given to me by a neighbour in return for babysitting her son. A beautiful, multi-coloured bunch of sweet young roses that smelt like I'd imagine Heaven would smell - sort of fresh and sweet and gentle.
Yet one week later they are dead and I have to throw them away.

I have on occassion photographed flowers I received, particularly those given to me when Rocco was born, in an attempt to preserve their beauty in some way.

Somehow, something so beautiful should last longer, much longer, than a measly week.

I wonder then, if anyone else feels like this or if they just chuck them out and wait for new...

Which brings me to a fond memory back in late 2001 when my then boyfriend and now husband brought me a handful of handpicked daisies - my favourite! I was still living with my parents and he had been on a truck trip and had brought these back for me. He'd elaborated on how he'd literally dodged hundreds of swarming bloodthirsty bees (or maybe it was pollen-thirsty!) - and him being allergic as well! - to bring me this thing of beauty. I popped them straight in a vase and there they stood - for nearly three weeks. We went away that weekend, and on our return, as we pulled up outside, my mom apparently said to my father, 'quick, chuck out the flowers before she comes in' - they knew I didn't have the heart to throw them away!

Roses are beautiful and classy and romantic and all, but daisies are wild and last longer, even if they don't smell good!

I got these when Cillisa was born from my father. Coincidentally, Carnations were my Mom's favourite...

The Fear

2010-04-19T00:25:00.000-07:00

A post from my personal blog a few days ago that I decided I would share...

Fear and I have grown close over the years. Looking back, it was invitable that we would, that my life would become entiwined with Fear, that we would become inseparable.

It started around the time that I got married. Fear took the first step to integrating itself in my life. It leaned close and whispered in my ear, wouldn't it be fun to lose your husband? And I whispered back that no, it certainly wouldn't be fun, and Fear chuckled and withdrew into the back of my mind, gone but not completely forgotten.

And then my son was born and Fear stepped up to the fore and asked, what if your husband was spared and your son taken instead? And I said, not on my shift. While I'm on guard of my loved ones no one is taking them anywhere. And Fear chuckled again in that ominous way it had and retreated, but not as far as before.

And life went on and it was good and the parties were hard. And I was lulled into a false sense of security as I forgot all about Fear.

And then Cilliers was taken from us. And it left us shocked and broken. Our innocence lost, to be replaced by the knowledge of a terrible and irreversible pain.

And while we were still reeling from the terror of it all, Fear struck again. I lost my mother and it left my soul shattered and cast in shadow. I became a shell, empty and with missing pieces.

I would never be the same again. I would gladly die than lose more. And then my daughter was born. And Fear shook me by the shoulders until my teeth rattled and asked smugly, who's the Boss now? And I fell to my knees and put my face in my hands and cried and answered, you are.

And Fear smiled and took a seat in the corner, within my range of vision. Always there, just over there, within reach.

And my second son was born and Fear stepped up and took my hand and has been holding it ever since.

Fear has a permanent place at my side. There is a space for it in the bed next to me at night when I lie awake in the darkness silently pleading with it to retreat. Making deals in the darkness of the night, with myself as the plea bargain. Take me first, I whisper. And Fear laughs softly, and caresses my forehead before settling down for the night.

Fear is the General in the Army of Life that I have been permanently recruited in. It stands before me and I solute it before bowing my head in a show of respect for the living breathing Fear that is inevitably a part of my life now and forever for as long as there is life that I love and value more than my own; those of my children.

Under The Couch

2010-04-14T04:57:00.000-07:00

Well, I contracted a Cleaning Service to sweep (pun intended) into my house tomorrow and do a modern day kind of 'fairy godmother' to it. A wave of the magic wand and *tarra* my house will be spick and span and new.

I should feel ashamed that I am currently at home on maternity leave and still recruiting a Cleaning Company. But I'm not. I have three children - two which are particularly messy and a husband who is not far behind (hello to toothpaste residue left behind in the basin and shoes left just where they were taken off...need I say more?).

So, with two and a half weeks left to go before it's back to work I decided to treat myself, HAVE my house cleaned, HAVE my dogs washed by a doggie parlour and just sit back and enjoy the results. Just this once. I might even be tempted to HAVE food delivered to my house tomorrow night too - just to complete my extravagance.

Seriously though - should I feel ashamed? The messy house subject is a...sticky...one for me. I love tidyness. Didn't grow up that way - my mom would laugh out loud if she could read that. I was the untidiest teenager EVER, despite all Mom's efforts to reform me! But as I passed into adulthood, I began to enjoy a tidy surrounding. Between you and me, I do have my messy corner - or cupboard, or draw, a place where the bits and pieces of my life that don't fit anywhere particular get thrown into until further notice. Drives my husband nuts.

So I got to wondering how many women, working or stay at home - actually get to cleaning their WHOLE house, top to bottom regularly. Especially the moms at home. Can one visit with a 'white glove' and check surfaces? I know from experience that being a stay at home mom is even harder work than a career mom. And I certainly don't get to everything, either way. It's as if I'm constantly putting out little fires, but never getting to the coals and the ash. Know what I mean?

However, I still got my pride, and as I contemplated and anticipated the Cleaning Service's arrival tomorrow (sparkling windows - yayy!!!), I uneasily realised that for my pride to stay intact, there was some cleaning I had to do first....Did I really want them to know that the last time the couch was moved and cleaned underneath was...well....the last time they were here, which was.....January - or was it December...and it's now April.

I was probably harbouring a new species of some kind under that couch by now. I eyed it in trepidation and then got to work.

Two kids could do THAT? Seriously, so THAT'S where the egg flip disappeared to! What were they doing with it anyway? Beer bottle cap - one guess who's to blame for THAT. Pieces of tea sets, little micro cars, a lollipop stick....lots of dust...

Dust got me to thinking about another kind of couch - the couch of our lives. Most people only see the couch - they either think it's a comfortable couch and sit down and visit, or they don't like what they see and move on to another couch more to their taste. But never do they look underneath the couch. I know I need to clean underneath my life couch - it gets crowded with all the stray bits sometimes. That is why I have two blogs, the one for the couch itself and the one for what's underneath the couch. The darker side of me. The one I choose to share, the other I don't. Even my more serious posts still come from the lighter side of me. It's my other blog that hosts my deeper, darker thoughts.

I read a wonderful blog post a few days ago and something Kirsten wrote there caught at my heart and I really want to share it here now:-

"For even the unbeautiful truths needs expression, and expression is trust and trust is a cliffdive into the unknown."

Kirsten's blog is called Wanderlust and the post is called 'The sound of a h heart breaking.

Here is a link to the post: http://kbxmas.blogspot.com/2010/04/sound-of-heart-breaking.html

She's right. It takes a level of trust to express one's emotions and even when you give that trust, you just don't know what someone is going to do with it.

Perhaps one day I will lift the couch for all to see what lies gathering beneath it, but for now I like it like it is.

The First Man I Ever Loved

2010-03-29T14:03:00.000-07:00

Of course, after all my pretty words and new found insights as I turned 30, there are still some grey areas that need work. I do realise this, but it's easier said than done.

I spend alot of time thinking about and analysing my feelings for my father.

There is no doubt, even if he doesn't know it himself, that he was the very first man I ever loved and the one I compared all other men to since.

Yes, Daddy was my hero - still is, if I think about it. Which I try not to, because somewhere inside, even though I am now 30 and a 'grown up', there is a piece of me that is still 13 and wants to be cross with Daddy, because Daddy went and married another lady after my Mommy died and try as I might for it not to, it does hurt very much.

I was always closer to my Mom. She was the one I shared all my thoughts and feelings and secrets with, and I trusted her. We had a very open relationship. There is nothing on earth to fill the space she left behind in my life.

But this is Dad's space right now. And while Mom was my best friend, Dad was my hero. I always thought him to be a handsome man, his short dark hair and blue eyes and wonderful smile work well together. My handsome Daddy.

And as a girl, my Daddy made me feel safe and protected. Beware the boy who picked on me at school - I'd tell my Daddy.

And let's be honest, when moms and teenage daughters butt heads, the neutralising presence of Dad goes a long way in smoothing things over.

I loved spending time with him in the garage, watching him work. I believed then, as I still do, even at the ripe age of 30, that my Dad could build anything and fix anything. Not just 99%, but 110%.

My Dad seemed to have high standards for me, which I always seemed to fall short of, even to this day. If I could talk to him like I talked to my mom, I'd tell him that I really did try to be what he wanted. I finished school, I got my license, bought my own first car, I partied a bit, but not too much and always behaved well. I met a man, fell inlove and married him and I've been a true, honest and faithful wife - something my father always found very important. I've worked hard, getting to where I am today on my own, without much help. Just by persevering and putting in as much effort as I could. My father hated 'half jobs' (which I was insanely good at as a teenager!). Does he know that now I too hate half jobs and am almost pedantic about seeing something through?

So I've really tried my best. Where did I go wrong? Why has Daddy never said 'Well Done'?

Then then '30 year old voice' tells me to grow up and get real. That I should bridge the gap somehow with my Dad and enjoy whatever years God sees fit to give us, so that somewhere along the line I don't end up writing another post about how I came to understand my dad too late, like with my Mom. But the other part of me - the part that's just a daughter, regardless of age - wants Daddy's approval.

And I do not begrudge him his new wife, his new life. He seems rediculously happy right now and I looked at his wedding photos with tears in my eyes, because truly, I don't ever remember seeing him look quite so happy, so healthy, so lively - Not with my mom and certainly not with me.

My Dad always hated me 'talking out of the house' as a child. He'd be pissed if he read this for sure!

And so I remain a closet Daddy's Girl, until my '30's' wisdom kicks me up the butt!

30 Regrets or 30 Blessings?

2010-03-29T13:27:00.000-07:00

To add to my earlier post '30 Stepping Stones', I have more sentiments about turning 30. Indeed, this was a big turning point for me. A milestone. I heard the echo of doors closing and another of doors opening, and as I said before, I started to think about the reality of dreams and what could still be, what never would be.

I remember a conversation with my mother when I was just into my teens. It started with me wanting to take piano lessons. I asked my mom if she ever had dreams when she was a child and she said she sure did. I asked her about the ones that hadn't come true - the things she wanted to do that she never did.

Her answer to me that day was that it got to a point where it didn't matter anymore. I can still picture that moment clearly. I was leaning against her wardrobe and she was making up her bed, tucking the corners in tightly and smoothing the duvet so that there was no creases. Only Mom made a bed like that. I've never known anyone else to do it quite so precisely, except perhaps me.

Anyway.

I listened to what she said and found it infinitely sad that a point could come in one's life where dreams 'wouldn't matter' anymore, and vowed there and then, silently to myself that ALL my dreams would come true and that I'd go out and do all the things I wanted - before it was too late.

Somehow, I think, looking back - it was what sparked my headlong flight into life - my continued feeling of urgency - that time was running out and I wasn't getting to everything.

Sometimes I still feel like that, because there are things I want to do in this life...but there are other things that just don't...matter...anymore.

Mom was right. Learning to play the piano is something I woudn't mind, but it sure isn't priority anymore. It just doesn't matter as much. Other things have taken its place.

She was right in so many things, especially when it came to raising children. How is it that I only now begin to understand how she thought and felt about things...now that I have a son of five and a daughter that I'd sooner die than let something happen to.

And how I wish she was here to tell this to, that now I finally do understand so much more, and that she wasn't just a good mother, she was a great mother.

Does this insight come with turning 30? Well, it would explain alot!

Meet No. 3 - Enter Rocco

2010-03-29T13:04:00.000-07:00

Okay, so I disappeared. For three months. Not good for business, I know! Geez, time really does fly!! Where have I been? Indeed, where HAVE I been?? Well, Christmas, New Year and then a new baby, all in the space of a month...I've been recovering ever since!!

I went into 2010 with only one hope - not a resolution, just a feverent hope - that it's a better year. That one hope sums up everything from finances, to happiness, love, friendship and the prayer that this year I lose noone I love. May 2010 take no one from me.

And with this thought still fresh in my mind, Rocco arrived on 19 January, exactly 17 months after his sister.

What a beautiful baby boy, weighing 3.8 kgs, which is close to 9 pounds.

He is such a treasure. A quiet and relatively undemanding baby that just loves Mommy. And I love him. No matter my previous thoughts, concerns, etc about a third - unexpected - child. He certainly took his place in our family and I can't imagine life without him now. He completed our family and gave me a feeling of peace and contentment that I wish could be applied to all the areas of my life.

I wish I had spent more time on this blog in the last few months...I had such high hopes for it, but I gave up too quickly and shouldn't have. So here's too a renewed start and a wonderful 2010!

Meet Rocco...

Shopping With Ben 10

2009-12-22T22:50:00.000-08:00

There are days I curse being South African. Even though I live in what is often referred to as the most beautiful city in the world, Cape Town, there are still those days I wish I lived in the UK or States, where there's just more STUFF available.

This wish rang repeatedly in my head as Jaco and I traipsed from shop to shop to find the kids their Christmas gifts. My son is a huge Ben10 fan, but would you believe that here in sunny RSA the only Ben10 stuff available is the cheaper Chinese toys - the 'immitations' should I say, and everything else is so overpriced, it would cost me a weeks' pay to buy the set. And of course, there's only one or two of the action figures available, the rest is predictably 'out of stock' and has been for some months prior to Christmas. WHATEVER.

And then we stumbled across some Ben10 goodies we hadn't seen before. We didn't buy it, not at THAT asking price. I'll say no more. A picture speaks a 1000 words after all!

Santa Got a Buddy

2009-12-22T22:36:00.000-08:00

Mom gets the tree up - yes, I know, it's a very LITTLE tree, but this is its last year with us...bear with me...the ligths are twinkling on and around the LITTLE tree. Santa is in his place infront of it all. He used to be able to sing and dance and even walk, but after two seasons with my son, he did little more than wobble, so now he just stands there.
But CLEARLY Jacques thought there was something missing and gave Santa a buddy to keep him company.
And I just had to share...

Cheese & Jam

2009-12-22T00:34:00.000-08:00

I had an appointment with my gynae yesterday. The 35 week mark.   All is well and happy in Womb County with the new little man.

As for me, well, all my little preggy nigglies - came down to just that: preggie nigglies. What to do? Well, in short, live with it.

Two interesting things that I learnt though....

For the 'lazy leg' feeling - when you just dont' know what to do with your legs - take Vitamin B.   Apparently this is what helps reduce that annoying and destracting malady.

Secondly,

For low blood pressure - first of all - sitting for long periods of time cause your legs to cut off sufficient circulation of blood flow to your heart.   Standing for long periods of time also causes more blood to circulate lower and again the heart gets less.   For both, it is recommended you get into a position whereby your head is lower than your heart and wait for the horrible low blood pressure feeling to pass.   How you're going to get into that position is anyone's guess, though after experimenting yesterday, I discovered that if you go down on your hands and knees and rest your head on the ground, your head is pretty much lower than your heart. The fact that your rear is sticking up in the air is irrelevant!

And finally, while many people believe the best thing for a sudden drop in blood pressure is to grab a chocolate and boost those sugar levels, I was told yesterday that it's a very short term solution and actually can make one feel worse when the sugar wears off again. A better suggestion is therefore a cheese and jam sandwich. Why. Because not only are you boosting sugar levels, you're also increasing protein and calcium, both which help to make you feel better sooner and for longer.

I would have been selfish not to share.

Commander Potato & His Chick

2009-12-14T01:02:00.000-08:00

Part of being an efficient and capable mom is learning to roll with the punches, go with the flow, expect the unexpected. And there's plenty of the unexpected.
So when you stick your hand in the pocket of potatoes at 08:00 am on a Sunday expecting to feel the round, slightly rough feel of a potato and instead feel something that is simultaneously hard and fluffy, do you have any choice but to shriek like a banship, whip your hand out the bag like it's been bitten and jump two feet away from the pocket of potatoes, staring at it in stunned horror and trying desperately to make sense of what just happened.

Two seconds later when you've gathered your wits and the courage to peep inside the bag, you feel like a complete twit when you see the following:-

Who? How? Your guess is as good as mine!

Catwalk Kids

2009-12-07T22:38:00.000-08:00

Last week was the school concert. This year, instead of the traditional Christmas concert, there was a fashion show.

I've only been priviledged to sit in the audience, heart in throat, once before, when Jacques took part in the Christmas play at his old creche when he was three.

Now, I sat in the front row next to the catwalk, as nervous and excited as can be, waiting for both my kids to make their entrance.

We'd been told that the babies would merely walk - escorted by the teachers - down the catwalk. The older classes had themes.

We dressed my daughter in a gorgeous pink party dress with as few accessories as possible - she's beautiful enough without them.

My son was later in the evening and we had no idea what to expect, as he had been tight-lipped the whole month while practicing and rehearsals went on. We just knew he had to wear 'funky' clothes. And he asked for his shades just before the show.

Anyway. A hush fell, the music started and first out, hesitantly and wide-eyed, came my beautiful baby girl. There is no words to describe the feeling that came over me when I saw her and heard the collective 'Ahhh' in the audience. When she saw all the people she kind of stopped and then continued walking, taking it all in, and silly Mommy sat with tears streaming - and I'm not the crying kind - so proud to know that the beautiful vision on stage was MY daughter.

Later the evening my son made his grand appearance - if not speedily and extremely shyly, hiding behind his shades. He came on stage on a little foot scooter, parked it, did the catwalk modelling and a bit of a shimmy dance. I was proud that he was brave enough to do it.

The second night Cillisa was ready and paraded the catwalk as if it was just for her. She stood infront of us - sitting again in the front row - and danced, and then cried when led off the stage.

Jacques refused to make an appearance the second night, and we assured him that it was ok, because Mommy doesn't do stages either, and neither, in fact, does Dad.

We are still waiting for the professional pictures that were taken, but in the meantime, I'd like to share two that I do have.

Beach Babe

2009-11-22T23:23:00.000-08:00

For ONCE the weather was decent on Saturday. Usually it's perfect weather during the week when I am stuck in a windowless 'cublicle' on the 8th floor of a stuffy building and then come weekend and my chance to venture into the outdoors, and the wind is galing and it's cool.
I did not hesitate to take advantage of the good weather this time around, and Julie and myself took off with my two kids and headed for the beach.
It was Cillisa's first real trip to the beach (the previous one not counting, because she was sleeping!).
I am still blown away at her response to this great outdoors.   I remember Jacques crying as his feet hit the sand, not enjoying it at all - though now at the age of 5, of course, it's all changed.
Still, here I watched my 15 month old take off across the sand, her tiny barefeet barely leaving a footprint behind her.   She stopped periodically to pick up something off the sand, even bringing me a small mussel, still in it's shell.
And then she discovered the water. I thought she'd be hesitant to go in, it being cold and all. Wrong again.
She went in on her hands and knees, shrieking and laughing when the water splashed over her, and once, when I couldn't grab her up in time, the water splashed up into her face and over her head. She thought it was funny!
It was such a joy to watch her having so much fun.
And then, there was the surfer / body boarder standing on the sand that she walked past, looked up at and beamed a smile upon. He looked down at her, returned the smile, and then looked around at me, and grinned again, looking a little puzzled at his own reaction to this tiny creature at his feet!
And again I marvelled at how little girls, no matter how small, can twist a man around her finger with a dazzling smile.
I think this is where some women go wrong. They grow up, become guarded.   Their actions are calculated or at least considered. Gone are the spontaneous wide smiles, and unselfconscious enjoyment of life.
I learn alot from my daughter every day. And I wonder what became of me and how to get some of that...
'innocence' back.

Boobs & Baby Powder

2009-11-19T02:27:00.000-08:00

Well, it's been long since I've written. It's what happens when your baby spends nearly 2 weeks out of a month in the hospital. Yup, it's been one of THOSE months.
Luckily I can say that Cillisa is now fully recovered. She had a bronchial infection of some kind and was only out of hospital for just over a week before falling ill again. Hopefully this time she is fully recovered and can go along her happy healthy way.
Much as I'd like to natter on and on about my beautiful daughter and gorgeous son, THIS post is all about BOOBS again.
I'll keep it short though!
It's something I discovered and want to share with other women out there who might not have discovered this boobelicious trick.
As most of us will know, pregnant tummy and bigger-than-normal boobs do not go well together.  Not much worse than feeling the underside of your boob touching your stomach, especially at night when you've done with bathing and don't plan on putting on a bra.
I take Baby Powder, pour some into my hands, and rub it in under my boobs and over the top of my tummy. Instant cure. I also happen to always apply powder under my arms at night, I don't believe in deodorants after bathing.
Anyway, it sounds strange, but it's immediate relief.
And that's what I'm sharing today.   Have a boobelicious day!

Things That Go Bump

2009-10-22T00:39:00.000-07:00

Childparenting

Well, my son seems to have entered a new stage; he is afraid. Of everything. And me, being a concerned parent, have been racking my brains for a way to deal with this, and eventually Googled it. Thank goodness for Google - I'd be lost without it!

Anyway, I am not sure if his father being away from home for a week is what started it off, or him having started a new creche the week before that. Maybe a combination of both. It started off small - he slept in the bed next to me while his dad was away, but he wanted me to come to bed the same time as he went. Then he wanted me to go with him to the toilet and stand outside the door. Then he didn't want to go into his room on his own. And eventually he was literally walking around behind me, just about holding onto my clothes. Now, even with his father back home, he won't go to the toilet on his own even while the sun is still shining.

By now I was VERY concerned.

Some research on Google highlighted the fact that this appears to be normal - though in boys it can even start at the age of 9. In girls it was more common around the six year mark.

It's crucial to approach this in the right way though. Stressed over and over in the articles I read was the fact that this fear is very real to the child, and should not be brushed off by the parent. Things like nightlights, staying with the child until he or she is asleep, etc was suggested. Therapy was highly recommended in the more extreme cases, as well as parent child councelling.

Now I don't know about you, and I feel almost guilty for admitting this outloud, but I don't have the financial resources at this point, or the ability to take time off work to take my son to councelling.

What I am trying to do is to understand him better and have conversations with him to try to draw out his fears. I also try to send him off to bed with 'happy' thoughts in his head about the little mice that go food hunting in the dark, and the dogs that are on guard and the cat that is out playing with the neighbours cats while we humans are sleeping. This seems to be working well.

I found a wonderful website that I am going to share with you, where you can read up about your child's age and what is generally the developmental stages within this age, as well as suggestions on discipline, etc. I found it infinitely useful and also put my mind at ease about some issues that I found were just plain normal for his age.

And so we learn, step by step. The hardest job on Earth - and there's no Instruction Manual!

30 Stepping Stones

2009-10-19T06:31:00.000-07:00

I turned 30 on the 16th of October. A very significant day that I've been mentally preparing for since I turned 29. A time of personal reflection, of weighing up what I've achieved compared to what I planned to achieve. I thought about what dreams and ambitions I could still realistically pursue and which would forever remain just dreams. Also, which of my original goals had changed and perhaps even fallen away to make way for new ones.

Mentally, it's been a busy year for me. A year where I silently learnt alot about myself, about what's important, what's not, what I am willing to tolerate and how far I will go to achieve personal happiness.

It was also a year in which I dealt with two very tragic losses, one being the loss of my Mother. It's a long road, the road to recovery after a tragic loss, and at times I doubted I could pull out of it and ever be happy again. It's as if the stigma of death attached itself to you and just holds on and you live in a dark and damp place, seeing the sun, but never feeling it, and eventually the choice is there to continue on like that, or pull yourself out of the deathly grip and take back life. It sounds alot easier on paper, but it's a long and painfull journey that I don't think ever really ends. It's something to be worked on each and every day.

Anyway, enough about my sentiments on turning 30, though be assured there are more coming.

For now though, I'm still getting over the shock!

Meet The Princess

2009-10-19T02:36:00.000-07:00

And now it's time to introduce my daughter, Her Royal Highness, Cillisa. Isn't she beautiful? Age: 14 months today. Born 19 August 2008. Favourite Hobby: Being cute. Favourite Food: Anything.

As much as I love my son, and as wonderful as it was to have a boy as a first born, don't let anyone ever convince you that a daughter isn't every bit as much of a gift. We've had such fun with her. Girls are just special. So different to boys and so...girlish!

I think we women are born with the inbuilt ability to wrap men around our fingers with a flutter of an eyelash or a sweet smile.

I think I've forgotten those tricks though, but watching her, I'm slowly remembering, and then jealously realising that I will never be as good as she is. She's a natural. The wide innocent smile, the upturned adoring look when she sees her father, the little outstretched hands - the cute faces she pulls when she's in trouble with Daddy, which is aimed at melting his heart, and works every time!

More than this, I believe Cillisa is touched by Angels. She was conceived within a month of loosing one of my closest friends in the world. In the month following this, carrying her was a comfort to me. During my last month of pregnancy I lost my Mother and Cillisa arrived a few weeks later on my Mother's birthday. Something they will forever share. Amazingly, Cillisa broke free of the dominant colouring of my husband's family as well has my own, with the dark hair and dark eyes, and inherited my mother's blonde hair and vivacious personality. She truly is a gift from Heaven, and her smile lights the path of life for me.

Why Blog

2009-10-12T04:27:00.000-07:00

Hello Everyone!

I've been a bit quiet lately - been caught up with work and kids - I'm sure you all know the feeling of just having NO time spare, and if by chance you do - NO energy to do anything with it.

Anyway, I've been doing a bit of research on blogs and so forth, and there's no shortage of tips and information out there of how to make one's blog successful. But at the end of the day it comes down to content.

A bit disturbing to me was one specific tip: Keep your content pertaining to your Blog. i.e. if you've got a blog about aeroplanes, don't write about cars....

So that got me stressing about my own blog and if writing about my dislike of Michael Schumacher and my like of Enrique Iglesias was potentially harmful to my Blog. After all it’s got nothing to do with kids or being a mom.

Yet – it does. Because it’s me. And I’m a mom. And a wife. And a person. And other mom’s out there will know how hard it is to just be you, when you’re trying to be mommy and wife. ‘You’ comes last. And so if the only place I get to be ‘me’ and express thoughts and feelings pertaining only to ME, is in this Blog then so be it. I have a personality and opinions outside of just those of a mother and wife.

Why did I start this Blog? Three reasons: Passion for writing, passion for my children, a longing to make people laugh.....

Passion for writing:- Yes, I love to write. My dream is to publish a novel – I’ve even written a few part of the way – but never get the time to finish it. Because I cannot dedicate myself to it. I love writing poetry, I love writing letters. I don’t get the time. To my mind, starting the Blog gave me freedom to write as and when I wanted to – without ‘losing the plot’, or falling behind.

Passion for my children:- well, what mother doesn’t have? And what mother doesn’t warm to her favourite subject; her kids – given half the chance and half an ear. Here, on my Blog, I can boast, praise, and complain to my heart’s content. I can ask questions and hope someone answers, I can share ideas and tips and hope it helps someone. And all this I can do in my favourite way: writing.

Longing to make people laugh:- Oh yes, I love seeing people’s smiles and knowing I put it there. So I might not get to see your smiles when you read my Blog, but I’ll know that if you’re reading it, and following it, that somewhere, at some stage, I will prompt a smile from you.

Truth be told, it doesn’t stop there – I heard about Heather Armstrong and how she eventually made a living from her Blog and was able to stay at home with her children and make it her life. Wouldn’t this be the perfect dream? For me, who has a passion for writing, and for my children, if I could combine the two on this Blog successfully, it would be a dream come true.

So it doesn’t help to write only what is ‘correct’ according to the experts on Blogging out there. I have to stay true to myself too. If it itches – scratch it. If it interests – write about it.

Finally, in closing, I am new to Blogging. So tips and pointers will always be welcome at any time. I tried to write on broad subjects and give you, the reader, a sense of who I am and what I am like before just launching into my life as a working mother. From now though, I am going to be more focussed on content; motherhood, pregnancy, careers, etc.

Beware, I am not averse to taking on anyone that needs it – because as far as I am concerned, here in South Africa there is way too little regard for working mothers, and even pregnant workers. I am joining the fight with guns blazing. I need wingmen – I invite you to join me!

xxEbony

This Weeks Top of the Celebrity Hit List

2009-09-23T08:00:00.000-07:00

And this weeks' honor goes to my all time favourite, worldwide worshipped, self worshipper...(drum roll)....Michael Schumacher.

I just KNOW my popularity just plunged! I felt the ground move beneath my typist's chair.

The world supports a winner. Its a simple as that. It's like that old saying,

"Smile and the world smiles with you, fart and you stand alone".

So it is with winners.

First off the bat, let me say that yes, Schumi is a 7 time F1 World Champion, yes, he holds the record for 5 consecutive titles, 91 race victories, 7 consecutive wins, 154 x top 3 podium finishes, 19 consecutive podium finishes, 190 point finishes, 68 pole positions, 115 front row starts, 76 fastest laps, 1,369 championship oints, 13 wins per season (72%), 10 fastest laps in a season, 17 podium finishes in a season, etc, etc, etc.

Still, I can't help but wonder why this obviously talented driver felt the need to constantly press the boundries of what is acceptable and not acceptable within the FIA standards. Together with Ferrari, Schumi was involved in more scandals than any other driver in Formula 1 history.

And yes, they call him "Regenkönig" (Rain King) and "Regenmeister" (Rain Master). Also referred to as the Red Baron in Germany. And I agree, he deserves it. There never has been a driver to drive in the rain like Schumi did.

BUT STILL...the way he conducted his career, the lows he and his team stooped to at times, the lack of sportsmanship and integrity of some of his actions, never put him at the top of my list. Of course, I am somewhat biased considering I was a Jacques Villeneuve fan back in 1997 and well....we know how THAT ended. Of course, I am going to TELL you how that ended incase you don't know.

Now that I've made mention of all Schumi's titles and acheivements (however briefly), I now feel free to go into detail about all the unethical and devious tricks Schumi has gotten up to during his career - IN DETAIL. If you dont' like it, remember my last Celebrity Hit List post and 'Fuckhoff' now while you still have the chance - you're not being paid to read this post.

Schumacher won his first Championship in 1994 - coincidentally the same year Senna died. Personally I don't think he stood a fighting chance with 'The Fastest Man Alive' still on the track. Still, with Senna out of the way, the track was open for Schumi - well, exept for Damon Hill. With Hill only one point behind Schumi going into the final race of the season, it was either man's Championship. Accidentally, of course, when Schumi left the track and then veered back on straight into Hill who was pulling ahead, both men were out of the race, and Schumi took his first Championship by one point. There was alot of controversy regards this, but it was later declared a 'racing accident'.

1997 we see more of this behaviour repeated when Schumi led the Championship by one point again, against Jacques Villeneuve this time. He was leading the race when his car developed a coolant leak. As Villeneuve made to pass Schumacher, our Red Baron tried to take him out - there's no soft soaping it, and ended up taking himself out while Villeneuve went on to score 4 points and win the Championship. Schumacher then went on to become the first and only F1 driver thus far to be disqualified from a Championship.

In 1998 our Schumi became a bit paranoid and twice accused fellow drivers of trying to KILL him.

First was Damon Hill who he accused of weaving dangerously as they fought for position. He later said, "If you want to kill me, find some other way", a statement that did not go down too well amongst fellow drivers.

Later in 1998, he accused David Coulthard of trying to kill him when Coulthard slowed down infront of him in the rain due to bad visibility.

Who could forget the 2002 Austrian Grandprix, where Barrichello, who had dominated the entire weekend, had to pull over for Schumi to pass in the last half of the final lap of the race, outraging fans world wide. These type of team orders undermined the sport and damanged it's credibility. Later team orders that inteferred with the race result were completely banned.

I can go on to mention Michael Schumacher blocking the track with his car to force a restart, passing a car under caution, winning a race in the pit lane, blocking the pit lane, etc, etc. the list goes on and on.

What a driver. What a chancer. But oh, WHAT a driver.

I admit, here, publically for the first time that I was probably more crushed than most when it was announced that Schumi was retiring. I did so love to hate Michael Schumacher The Air Puncher.

Bailamos

2009-09-23T05:06:00.000-07:00

Damn, someone pass me a tissue, I just drooled on my keypad. Yes, it's THAT bad. Growing up, I was not one for 'idol worship'. Sure I had some posters on my wall of Kelly Slater. Indeed I fell inlove with 'Jack' from Titanic, played by Leonardo Dicaprio. Hmmm, I've always, always liked Tom Cruise - though recently he's gotten too old for me! And when I was VERY young, I thougth Alec Baldwin was HOT.

But nothing compares to my adoration of one Enrique Iglesias. It's probably a good thing that he didn't prefer acting as a career, my DVD player would have burned out by now and I'd be divorced. As it is, I have almost convinced my husband that he really does in some way resemble something in Enrique. I changed the subject before I had to be more specific though!

Seriously, what woman can resist those smouldering eyes?

I'd like to say it's all about the music for me, but seriously, I like Nickleback and Prime Circle too, but I wouldn't be inspired to post them on my blog and Google shirtless pics of the band members.

In October 2007 I attended a concert. My hubby bought the ticket for me for my birthday and Julie agreed to go with. Poor girl. She sat alongside me from 08:00 the morning until 21:00 the evening just to be sure we were RIGHT INFRONT of the Golden Circle. I wanted an unimpeded view of my favourite 'idol'. The fact that thousands of screaming, panting, horny bitches jostled, pushed and shoved did not deter us and we clung valiantly to the railing separating us from the stage. I did not, for one single moment, consider myself on the same level as these poor deprived females. I was there for the music. And to see Enrique upclose - purely from an entertainment perspective. I'd paid for it. But I did not, I repeat, NOT, behave that way, or fantasize about him in any inappropriate way or in any place or position that included duvets, pillows, silk, etc. I am after all a married woman.

The fact that he writes most of his own music adds to my admiration of this talented man. I believe he is deep and soulful and so totally and completely Spanish. Yum. I can honestly say that never before have I seen a male artist perform with as much energy and enthusiasm and he does at his concerts.

His music has, for many years, been the alphabet of my life - a song for every ocassion. When I am happy, sad, thoughtful, energetic, alone...there's a song for it all. I love listening to the Spanish songs too, because there is nothing to destract me from the pure emotion Enrique puts into his music.

Despite all this, he is a man, and someone, somewhere is putting up with his shit on a daily basis. To all accounts and purposes, it's Anna, the beautiful, golden tennis star / model.

So yes, okay, I'm an 'idol worshipper' even at my age! But I am not a horny panting bitch and I do not have pictures of him as my screen saver, desktop or on the back of the toilet door. I do have his CD in the car, and in the house, and, I believe, the best topless picture of him ever taken, hidden deep within my box of treasures. I should share it sometime.

In the meantime, make do with what is shared on Google for all those horny bitches out there to pant upon - me excluded, as I am merely admiring a work of art and a talented artist - purely from an entertainment point of view. Seriously.

Now, where's that DAMN tissue????!!!

Friendly Insight

2009-09-23T01:27:00.000-07:00

Well, my best girl buddy just sent me an email - she's obviously been Googling for an answer as to how she fell pregnant. (Dont' ask, the depths of her mind are safer unexplored!). She's 17 weeks today (Happy 17

Weeks, Julie!) and her son's name is Dylan. First baby...can you imagine how excited she is!

Anyway, her extensive Google research dug up the following and I thought it interesting enough to share:

When Can You Get Pregnant?

Because sperm can survive for as long as 5 days, you could potentially fall pregnant from intercourse during the 5 days before you ovulate, as well as for 24 hours after.

My Son

2009-09-23T00:41:00.000-07:00

Well, the real reason for starting this blog was to talk about my children, being a full time working mom, the impact it has on the life of my family and to research and publish my findings on the subject to hopefully make life easier for others out there that might be in a similar position as I am.

Anyway, so it's now time to start introducing my little family. First up is my son, Jacques. Age 5.

Birthday 31/08/2004. Hobbies: PLAYSTATION. Favourite Cartoon: Ben10. Favourite Food: Nothing. Chicken and Fries if he must choose. Sweets: Anytime. Normality on a Scale of 1 - 10, 10 being normal: 8.

I have to say my son is gorgeous. He has eyes and eyelashes any girl would dream of having. He is a good kid, a bad eater, a nagger, but extremely intelligent and at present the funniest person I know.

So a few mornings back while rushing to get things done, I was having a good old bitch about the deplorable state of my wardrobe and my lack of pants. When I failed to get a response from my husband, Jacques decided to settle matter. "Mommy, why don't you buy some jeans?" he asks me. Grumpily I replied that I do not have money for jeans right now. To which he responded, "Well then why dont' you ask Ouma for monies?" This brought a smile to my lips, but I told him that Ouma also doesn't have alot of money and can't just buy, buy, buy all the time. Thinking the subject was closed, I carried on packing in the lunch. I shouldn't have underestimated Jacques, he is his mother's child. He got the last word. With a tone that said it was the end of the conversation he said, "Well then you will just have to wait for Father Christmas then!" and he left the room.

LOL!! If only!

It seems 5 is a clever age to be. The change is almost over night, and they start saying things and reasoning things for themselves that you didn't realise they could do before.

Last night I decided to spend some time just chatting to Jacques. I lay next to him in his bed and he asked me to tell a story. As usual, my usually imaginitive mind deserted me, and so I decided to tell him some stories about his mother's antics when she was 'small' like him. He listened with a smile and often chipped into ask questions, the main one being "Why?", which is the most common question kids seem to ask, from around 2.5 years until probably somewhere around 95.

Then he asked if his Daddy was also around, so I explained that Jaco and I didn't know eachother when I was little and only met when we were big. He wanted to know where and why and so I explained that I met his Daddy at Stockcars and I saw him and I liked him and we became boyfriend and girlfriend. The more I said, the further he sank under the blankets, a huge smile on his face. And then I said "And then I KISSED him!" and he shrieked, laughed, covered his head with the blanket and then exclaimed, "Oh GROSS!", to which I burst out laughing. It was such a spontaneous and unreserved response, and the huge grin on his face showed his enjoyment of the story. The fact that at five he thinks boys and girls kissing is GROSS, caught me momentarily off guard - but then again, the kids grow up so fast these days!

It really was a brilliant moment for me and even now, as I sit at work getting this post in quickly (yes, mom@work!), I smile at the memory!

Remember THIS???

2009-09-17T07:08:00.000-07:00

On Top of Spaghetti

On top of spaghetti,

All covered with cheese,

I lost my poor meatball,

When somebody sneezed.

It rolled off the table,

And on to the floor,

And then my poor meatball,

Rolled out of the door.

The mush was as tasty

As tasty could be,

And then the next summer,

It grew into a tree.

The tree was all covered,

All covered with moss,

And on it grew meatballs,

And tomato sauce.

So if you eat spaghetti,

All covered with cheese,

Hold on to your meatball,

Whenever you sneeze.

It rolled in the garden,

And under a bush,

And then my poor meatball,

Was nothing but mush

Interesting Fact

2009-09-17T05:05:00.000-07:00

Studies have shown that hair grows slower when you are stressed.
(I guess that's why mine falls out so much!)

Top Of This Week's Celebrity HitList

2009-09-17T01:45:00.000-07:00

THE HOFF - David Hasseloff

Back in the 1980's when Night Rider was still a hit, David Hasseloff was cool - to my 9 - 10 year old mind. Young and good looking, he drove an awesome car and could carry it off. BACK THEN.
Few people may know that Hasseloff started his career staring in a soapie - The Young And The Restless from 1975 - 1982.
David Hasseloff describes acting in Knight Rider as "a little more difficult than if you had a regularly well-written script" - because - " I had to talk to a car." Fuck me Charlie. Talking to a car is challenging???

David goes on to say that Night Rider was much 'bigger' than Baywatch ever was. Because it was about "saving lives not taking lives". So...uh...did they let people drown on Baywatch? Which brings me to an interesting quote I found from him while browsing the Internet:
"I wanted to play around with the format, really tear it to pieces and shake it up. For example, if Mitch saves someone from drowning, and that person then goes out and releases a virus that kills a million people. Imagine the moral implications of that."

Well, I guess that answers THAT question! Let's first think deeply on the 'moral implications' of saving the individual....
Hasseloff was too busy keeping his toes dry anyway to really get into the water...shots of him running in slow motion down the beach with the wind touseling his curls was much more important than getting wet and saving lives. Way to non-glamerous for our Hoff.
So he did do well, reviving it's first season flop and running another 8 seasons that were hugely sucessful. So I gotta give him credit there. The fact that he ensured himself a good role with Alexander Paul as co-star, and himself as Leuitenant and later promoted to Captain is obviously the job perks. Mr King of the Castle.

Suck in that belly, smooth on that baby oil!

Speaking of Kings, David Hasseloff proclaimed himself 'King of the Internet' in a tongue-in-cheek advertisement commercial for Pipex on 2 August 2006. How's that for blowing your own horn?

I found some interesting pictures of a drunken David Hasseloff eating a burger while being video taped by his daughter. This later resulted in him temporarily losing custody of his daughters. I decided not to display these. Everyone's entitled to consume a bit much a some stage of their life, but when you're a high profile celebrity, it becomes world news....

Regardless of love or hate, David Hasseloff has been a busy man in the public eye from 1975 to this day.

I admit to a grudging respect of this man as I read of his contributions to charity, and his energy and enthusiasm for his work, the passion with which he followed his dreams.

Still the memory of him running in slow motion down the beach, floating device in hand, still causes an unpleasant sensation in my stomach. To my mind, Kelly Slater, staring as Jimmy Slade, was soooo much more 'munch-alicious' back then!!!!

So to my 'top of the Celebrity Hitlist' celeb of the week, I have only one thing left to say, and this extends to anyone who doesn't like my opinion:-

Patrick Swayze

2009-09-15T06:02:00.001-07:00

His dark good looks charmed me even as a young girl, when I watched Dirty Dancing for the first time. How was I to know I'd watch it countless times in the years thereafter, that I'd have my own copy of the DVD, that I would take up Latin Dancing, having been inspired at the age of 9 by the savvy moves and passionate romance.

How strange to still be inspired to this day, because the steps of the dance have imprinted themselves on my heart.

Sad that the man to do it all is now gone, and he was still so young.

This post is just to say - *Gone but not forgotten*.

Sex on the Beach??

2009-09-15T04:03:00.000-07:00

We've all wondered things.   Now I'm wondering where do all these questions go?   Here are some questions I wonder:

1. Sex on the beach.  Heard much on the subject but never tried it. Is it true that sand...gets   in..well...everywhere?? So how does one prevent this happening while still having your outdoor romp?

2. What do firemen do when there are no fires?

3. Do men look at eachother's penises when they go pee together?   I've heard there's an unspoken code of ethics surrounding this phenomena, but I'm still in the dark...

4. WHAT is so fascinating to men about anal sex?   More than half the men I know or have known have expressed an interest to try it or enjoy doing it (with their female partners, I am not referring to gay couples).

Myth or Truth: Pregnancy Hormones.....

2009-09-15T02:55:00.000-07:00

You fall pregnant and it seriously feels like your world as you know it has been invaded by some invisible force - taking ove your body and the way you feel - literally OVERNIGHT.

And of course, your partner, friends and colleagues will only listen to your claims that your behaviour is all due to hormones for so long, before they become impatient.

HORMONES - the real villan in the story.

Hormones are responsible for just about everything that can and will go wrong during pregnancy, from a moods and comfort perspective.

I looked into this a bit, and discovered some very interesting information I can now share with you - for your reading pleasure though, I have included the link to the site above, if you want more details - in detail!

First of all, although I made extensive notes on the article to share with you, somehow I got stuck on one thing: the anus. Of all the parts of ones body that come under attack during pregnancy, I seriously think the butthole suffers the worst. Pregnancy is literally a pain in the ass for this poor body part. More about this in a moment.

First things first: If you find yourself with an overwhelming need to spring clean - even though it's the middle of winter - know that this is normal - it's called 'Nesting Syndrome' and is basically your motherly instincts taking over to provide a space for the newborn. If you're like me and have boxes of junk and cupboards overflowing with STUFF, then this is probably a good thing. Just don't overdo it.

You find yourself wondering when the hell you invited these people over for dinner that just arrived at your house on a Friday evening. They are expecting your signature dish. These kind of things have happened a few times now, and you're wondering if you're going mad. Relax. It's HORMONES. Unfortunately although I researched a bit on this, there is no specific Hormone that this is blamed on. There is the lack of sleep factor too though, that apparently interfers with one's ability to remember. Also the simple fact that a pregnant woman has alot on her mind, many changes to deal with, and much more to deal with on a day to day basis and therefore there is more scope to forget the more minor details - ESPECIALLY when multi-tasking. Ladies, I plead with you - DO NOT flat iron your hair while baking something in the oven and running the bath water all at the same time, because somewhere disaster will strike! Do not allow the men in your life and even your friends and colleagues to make you feel inferior if you do forget things - it's been reported and proven many times over that this is a normal part of pregnancy. Do yourself a favour though - if it's imporant, write it down, if it isn't, FORGET IT!

BOOBS - yes, it had to come up! Boobelicious subject this, the ever present and totally 'unignorable' part of a woman's body. If you're like me and you suddenly realise your boobs are fuller and more curvy than usual (especially if like me, they are not the best of your many, many good features), hold off buying the wonderbra and low cut tops and buy a pregnancy test kit instead, as this is one of the first signs of pregnancy. Again, you can thank HORMONES for it - as the increased level of Estrogen and Porgesterone in your body cause your boobs to swell right from the start. And for many women it doesn't stop during pregnancy, so skip the Wonderbra, and add cheaper bras to your monthly budget! Also allow for the fact that your rib cage will expand, so your bra size will change too. This is due to an increased lung capacity so that there is enough oxygen for you and the baby.

SKIN - Ouch! It's good, it's bad, it's up, it's down. Some woman have all the luck and 'glow' during pregnancy (this is also HORMONAL, by the way), and other women end up blotchy and pimply. Either way, increased blood flow to the uterus and other organs cause the changes to your pigmentation. Unfortunately it's not an even spread, which is what causes the blothes. Freckles and moles can get bigger during this time too. The increase in blood flow also increases oil gland secretion, which can be a cause of pimples. The dark patches you may get on your face is called "choloasma" and there is unfortunately no prevention of this: just remember your sunblock and to avoid UV light in order to minimise the effects.

Some women may also have noticed a dark line down the abdomen - called 'linea nigra' - it's not permanent.

You may also find a darking of the pigmentation around nipples, external genitalia and....yikes....the anus!!! Yup, your poor butthole becomes darker. I'd love to meet the person who discovered this interesting fact!

Beware those of you expecting in summer, pregnant women are prone to heat rahes too, due to heat and perspiration. Great, it just gets better and better. Someone should post this article up in high school cafeterias, it's a good incentive for the young and the thoughtless to use protection or just plain abstain.

Moving on:-

ITCHY SKIN - oh yes, the beloved itch. Blame it all on the stretching of the skin during pregnancy. Apply creams or oils and if all else fails, scratch like hell.

HAIR AND NAILS grow stronger and faster during pregnancy, but apparently doesn't last, hair can fall out again after pregnancy. So enjoy your crowning glory while it lasts and add a cap to the bras in your budget for afterwards.

UNWANTED hair can apparently sprout forth from various parts of your body during pregnancy, such as around your nipples, on your face and belly. It just gets better and better, doesn't it? I wonder if the anyone took the time to see if extra hair grew around the anus when they were checking there for darker pigmentation???

JOINTS - interestingly, your body produces yet another HORMONE called Relaxin, which apparently prepares the pubic area and cervix for birth. It loosens the ligaments of your body. This makes your body less stable and more prone to injury. You can therefore easily strain the joints in your lower back and knees if you are overdoing it. Please do not try to look at your own anus to see if there is darker pigmentation, grape sized hemorroids, or tufts of unwanted hair, as this may also cause strain on your lower back.

Yes, HEMORRHOIDS, another joy of pregnancy and another pain in the butt for the anus!

Caused by the extra pressure on the pelvis, the veins in the rectum may enlarge into 'grape-like clusters'. Charming! At least HORMONES aren't taking the blame for these!

Anyway, these are some facts I found quite interesting. Now if anyone tries to tell you that pregnancy is wonderful, that you should be rejoicing in the new life you are carrying, tell them to take a hike. If the man in your life knew what was good for him, he'd be spoiling and pampering you and certainly not antagonising you or making fun of your forgetfulness. Because an added pain in the butt could push one hormonal pregnant lady over her limit!

The whole Hormone thing has me quite interested and this I will focus on more deeply in coming posts, as well as Sex During Pregnancy, yet another much debated subject.

For now, thanks for reading.

The...underside...of Pregnancy - Boobelicious!

2009-09-14T04:23:00.000-07:00

Okay, someone needs to tell it.

Someone needs to warn all those people out there just how disgusting it feels when the underside of one's breasts touch one's stomach. Especially noticeable in the bath.

I am not sure if this is one of the world's best kept secrets, not told so as not to discourage women from falling pregnant. I just know that no one ever told me, and I am not adverse to sharing the good, the bad and in this case, the ugly, with other women out there. And men might as well take note too. Not everything about boobs is GOOD. Feeling them touch the top of one's stomach is most definitely not good.

Then there's the itch...anyone ever felt that? An insane itch all around the soft white parts of your boobs. Crazy isn't it?

The commercial side of the world seem to project this wonderful, almost angelic side to pregnancy, with these glowing pregnant ladies on the cover of magazines, all radiant and healthy.

Now what about the other 99% of us? We of the swollen feet, itchy skin, bloated stomach (bulge aside), dehydrated skin, etc, etc, etc, wearing our husband's clothes because ours don't fit anymore, and the damn shops maternity gear just doesn't seem to have a size that perfectly fits and completely compliments our oversized, bloated and bulky new look.....

Why does the world not tell about that darned trapped nerve just at the very top of ones right butt cheek that just won't go away, the sudden onslaught of heart burn that one never suffered from before. The intolerance of certain smells, the sudden tolerance of food never before ingested....yes, there's soooo much more than what the world tells you all about the....uh....joys of pregnancy.

Of course, the awe of seeing your little babe growing within your belly at your monthly scans is well worth all the itchy skin, swollen feet, etc. Isn't it? ISN"T IT?

Still, after all the years of wishing for more boobs, it only takes a pregnancy to remind me of all the reaons to be grateful for what I've been given. Bigger is not always better.

And this is all I am saying on this subject....

Soldier in the Vegetable Patch

2009-09-14T03:16:00.000-07:00

Not only do we moms have the ability to manage multiple challenges simultaneously, but we are also soldiers in our own right.

Ever sat close infront of a toddler, smiling at her cute little face as she gobbles your carefully prepared meal...
And then suddenly and without warning, she chokes, goes red in the face, and before you can move, she coughs, spraying your unsuspecting and vulnerable self full of rice, potatoes, squash and whatever else you put in her eager little mouth?

Who would ever have thought rice could be used as bullets?!

Just a thought, but perhaps clothing manufacturers should create a bib for moms (and dads) for feeding time too. I can think of a number od cute little phrases for them too - especially Dad's bibs - but I'll save that for another post!
I think I could still scratch out an old shower cap that used to belong to my gran as protective head gear.

So next feeding time, be aware that whatever you put in your little angel's mouth, has the capacity to come flying straight back at you.

Bon appetit!

Never Stop Working?

2009-09-06T09:47:00.000-07:00

Welcome to mom@work! I'm surprised I have found the time to set up this blog and even manage to type the first insert on THE SAME DAY...don't hesitate to give me a round of applause.

If your life is anything like mine - and it must be if you're reading this, then you will know that finding time to even sit down infront of the PC is like trying to convince a five year old that it's bed time - damn near impossible!

Yet here I am! It's a Sunday evening, tomorrow is work *cringe*, and it's bed time for the kids. If not for my mammoth effort to get everything done early, by getting started at around 08:00 this morning, I'd still be busy. As it is, most of my motherly duties are just about concluded for the day - except the bottle sometime during the night. Wifely duties...well, that's another story.

I'm curious...are you, my reader, a working mom? Of course you are! I've been a stay-at-home mom to one child and an employed mom with two children - and let me tell you, no matter which one you are, I know we all work hard.

Never let it be said that the stay-at-home mom has it easy. It's a damn hard and totally unrewarding and mostly thankless job. You're not allowed to say you're tired, because people want to know why, 'what do you do all day'? I feel my teeth grinding at the thought of it.

And then there's the employed mom. Up at the crack of dawn, or even before it, getting kids ready for creche or school, putting in a full day at the office, and then returning home to face all the must-be-done's before finally falling into bed for a few hours shut eye before doing it all over again. With no end in sight.

Tell me something, are you as exhausted as I am?

What is the point of this post, this blog, you might wonder? Gosh, I wonder this myself a bit. I do know that I want to hear from other mom's out there, I want to know how you cope when there are just not enough hours in the day. How do you find time to be a good mom, a good wife and still be good to yourself?

I took some time a few weeks ago to browse some other blogs written by mom's and completetly enjoyed some of the posts. I want to be a part of that world, but with a blog of my own, as I also have laughs to share. And writing is my passion. So here it is, my first post. My name is Ebony Daye and I am a mom@work.

Whoever said this was right...

2009-09-06T09:31:00.000-07:00

"Working mothers are guinea pigs in a scientific experiment to show that sleep is not necessary to human life."