Thursday, 23 October 2014

I used to pray for world peace. Then things changed...

To survive in an ever evolving world you've got to be good with change.  To move with the times you've got to be adaptable. To be a mom means changing constantly. Minute to minute, hour to hour, day to day.  To not adapt to your circumstances as a mom is to die...a slow painful death. Okay.  Not really. Not literally.  But figuratively definitely. 

We went from a twohumansfourdogs household in a matter of weeks. Before we knew what had hit us we were parents to a three month old little girl. Things changed so quickly I didn't have time to read any books on child rearing or raising. I winged it. In fact, I still do.
And just as we were settling into a routine of a household with two and a half humans and four dogs we got an sms that would change our lives forever. Again.  It simply read "are you guys still thinking about adopting another baba?"  And so things changed without any warning, or shopping time. Within 72 hours we had a baby boy.




I wasn't big on change.  Growing up we lived in the same house for 20 something years. I moved from my folks' house only when I got married at 26. My then husband and I lived in the same house for four years until we got divorced. I like liked consistency. Now I ebb and flow like the tide. Sometimes I'm like a tsunami.  It changes all the time. It depends on what the situation calls for. The only thing consistent about me now is that I change. Consistently.

Perspectives change. Opinions alter. Goalposts shift further away or move in a lot closer. I used to pray for world peace but then I became a mom and now a squabble free dinner is a score.  Saturdays and Sundays were lazy days spent in bed or on the couch. Leisure time was getting through an entire book in an afternoon. Now a bowel movement without any interruptions from an ankle biter is considered free time.  I loved arty farty movies and analysing them with friends. Now I know who Swiper and Boots are and can count to ten in Spanish.

Before Emma and Ben arrived a quickie was a quickie was a quickie.  Now a quickie can mean anything from a shower to popping out for a haircut or cigarette.  And my husband and I speak in code. A wink means there's a chocolate in the kitchen. Two winks means I'm going to eat mine quickly in the laundry room. Circles of friends have changed and because we adopted two munchkins of colour I get to hang with some incredibly colourful people, like Kagiso Msimango, who shares her experiences of motherhood with Thing 1 and Thing 2.

I loved my life BC (before children) but I love it more BC (because of change). 



Are you a budding writer? Then #LoveChange and win!

BrightRock loves change and now, they’re looking for your big change story. Share your story about your experiences with one of Life’s biggest Change Moments – whether it’s Landing that Job, Tying the knot, Starting a Family or Making a Home – and you could win R2 000 in cash and the chance to become a regular contributor on BrightRock’s exciting Change Exchange 
It’s an asking, learning, sharing, changing space – packed with tips and tools to help people live through, and even love, life’s greatest Change Moments.

Here’s how to win:
Submit your #LoveChange story – of no more than 650 words via the “Your Story” tab on the Change Exchange . Feel free to upload a pic to go with it, or include a link to an Instragram pic or YouTube video. 

You’ll find all the competition rules on the Change Exchange. But get writing now because the #LoveChange entries close 31 Oct 2014. Ts & Cs apply.

I can't wait to read YOUR #LoveChange story xxx
 

Monday, 20 October 2014

I'm retarded white trash...apparently

Today I was called a f*cking retard, told I looked like white trash and that from my appearance there was no way I could afford insurance. All of this over a car. A car!

Don't get me wrong.  I love nice things. I'm a Taurus. BC (before children) I didn't flinch at spending R3000 on a pair of jeans. In fact, just last night I was looking at a handbag I had bought a few years back. It cost R12k.  Yes, and it made sense then.  Last night I was thinking HTF did I ever justify that purchase. Priorities change. Kids change things. 

I drive the car I do because I could afford it at the time, it gets me from A to B and there's space for all my party stuff.  I no longer frequent Diesel and G Star because the reality is I don't have the disposable income I used to.  And I'm okay with it.  You're gonna like me because of me. Not because of where I shop or what I wear.

So back to me being called a 'retarded white trash uninsured hick' this morning.  I was running late for a meeting. I wasn't concentrating.  My mind was on 101 things. And I scraped the car next to me. The scratch was small and when the car guards came over to look they said it could probably be polished out.

I immediately left my details with the security and asked if he could pass it onto the driver if I wasn't back. I whatsapped friends telling them what had happened and joked that it was more than likely some highly strung woman's car. If only I had known just how highly strung.

When I got back to my car the other one was still there.  I made sure the security guard still had my details and reminded him to please pass them on. And I started reversing. Along came a woman pushing a pram and the guard asked me to stop.  He then told her what had happened.  And it just went downhill.

She looked at the scratch and let out a blood curdling scream.  I thought she was joking. She wasn't. 

The bit that follows is the dialogue between the two of us:
Her: you scratched my fucking car and you were just going to drive away! How dare you you bitch!

Me: I wasn't driving away. I left my details with this gentleman to give to you in case I missed you leaving

Her: my fuck! My fucking car (blood curdling scream). Are you fucking stupid? And I don't suppose you've got insurance have you?

Me: I am so so sorry. I didn't do this on purpose. Really I am so sorry (pathetic I know but that's me)

Her: for fuck's sake I don't need this shit now. Now I have to go to the fucking police station and report this because you can't fucking drive!
And I suppose your piece of shit car is absolutely fine?

Me: no it's not fine. It's scratched too

Her: oh for fuck's sake! Now you expect me to feel sorry for you!

At this point the car guards and the guys who wash the cars had all kinda moved away from her and were standing behind me. And they were all whispering "ignore her. Don't let her upset you.  She's behaving so badly!"

She then got into her car and started dialling her husband.  "You need to talk him and tell him you did this! I'm not having him think this was my fault!"

Her: (on the phone) I need you to speak to this fucking retard who just crashed into my car!  The fucking bitch can't drive and by the looks of her there's no way she's insured!"

She hands the phone over to me and I apologise to her husband and explain what happened and again say I'm sorry. And he says it's ok. She's just really stressed and tired. They haven't had water at home for a few days and someone recently crashed into her car. And I say again how sorry I am and that in really didn't mean for it to happen and that she's just so upset and angry. At this point she yells at me that she doesn't need to be psychoanalized by a fucking idiot.

By now I was a snotball of a mess.  I was doing the ugly cry while still trying to remain composed.  The car wash man kept looking at me and rolling his eyes in her direction.

I know I was in the wrong. I know I ruined her day and added to her stress. I know she doesn't need this right now.  I get it. But it's a car! Or am I wrong? Surely a civil conversation would have been more productive? Or am I, because I'm in the wrong, underplaying it?

Tuesday, 12 August 2014

For teeth's sake!

Let me start off by saying this is not a sponsored post. I was not paid in cash or fillings for the mentions. In fact it cost me money, but was so worth it.

I have awful teeth. I think I've said that before. At one stage (pre smoking) they looked ok, but they have never been strong, calcium rich gnashers. In fact, in my teens my dentist told me my teeth wouldn't survive a pregnancy. They would either all fall out or would crumble and disintegrate and have to be pulled out.

Thank G-d that never happened!

Emma and Ben are lucky. They have gorgeous healthy little pearlers that actually go 'ting' when they grin. And I intend to keep it that way with regular visits to the dentist.

Emma has been to Candice Schwartz four times already. On Monday it was Ben's first visit and he was a little superstar. I thought she would let him sit in the chair, play with all the different gadgets and get used to the strange environment. But he wanted his teeth polished and cleaned and he was ever so happy opening his mouth as wide as it would go.



She picked up that Emma has four wobbly teeth and that her back teeth (molars) would probably be out by her next visit. She would then put a protective sealant on them. She also picked up (by looking at her teeth) that Emma loves sweets, which is already affecting the condition and strength of her teeth. To help put calcium back in she gave us 'tooth mousse', a fairly expensive treatment which should last six months and, in the long run, save a small fortune. 

Candice also commented on Emma's breath, which we've put down to not brushing properly, when in fact it's thrush. She gave us a chewable probiotic that Emma needs to have three times a day and as well as a lozenge.

She showed Emma and Ben how to floss and recommended that we, the parents, brush at night (the most important one) and in the morning they do it themselves with a little bit of assistance from us. 

This isn't a particularly well written post, nor is it funny or poignant or deep but it's useful. Dentistry has come a long way since pliers and pulling and the sooner you get your kiddies to love their teeth, the better.

Candice can be found at Big Red Tooth on William Nicol, opposite Design Quarter. She is great with kiddies. And adults too. 

The contact number, should you want to make an appointment, is 087 351 8333