What REALLY to expect when expecting

There is a secret society that mothers belong to. Expecting moms don't yet qualify and those that don't plan on having children anytime soon, well don't even bother applying. As a woman who swapped a Blackberry for a black baby I don't qualify for membership either. It's an exclusive club and you only get to join when you have paid the price with your vagina, your nipples and your womb. 


Imagine if you will, a gaggle of women, dancing around a cauldron, with dried up umbilical cords for necklaces and  and mucous plugs for earrings, swearing to poo-poo the yucky stuff and not ever, never, ever-never discuss things like stray hairs, big feet and piles. Their secrecy is questionable but their motives noble. Should women ever find out the real truths behind pregnancy (and what happens after) we would not procreate and the species as we know it would soon die out.


Sure, once someone confirms with you that they are indeed pregnant (I've been known to ask non-pregnant women how far they are) you chat about all the superficial things. You ask when they're due. You enquire as to the sex of the baby. You want to know if they've thought of names and you ooh and aah as they tell you their choices - Apple Tiger, Drowning Rat (if it's a girl) or KungFu HamSandwich (if it's a boy). Soon these parents will be wishing their offsprings' names are the only weird things about to happen in their lives. No-one mentions the time they pooped themselves on the delivery table and you never say "Ooooh I love what you've done with your hair...on your face!"

Because I have never been pregnant myself (except for a few weeks) I asked Google questions like "what's the most horrible things that happens to you while pregnant" and "what's the real 411 on being knocked up" and of course "what are the grossest things that happen while pregnant". I read through a few and still felt not all was being revealed but I think I've put a fairly good list together. Let me know what you think, moms? If you're allowed : )


So apparently your feet get bigger and you're no longer Cinderella but rather one of the ugly stepsisters. It's nature's way of letting you know that because you won't be going out very often any more your Jimmy Choo's won't be needed and you can haul out those crocs.

Things swell and stretch and they also pop...your navel pops out and looks like a cheerio, piles pop out and look like...piles


You also lose your mind, which people politely refer to as 'porridge brain'. Yes, you get stupid and forgetful, but again it is MN taking care of the species...if you remembered all the changes your body was going through you'd never do it again, so VIVA, PORRIDGE BRAIN, VIVA!


You lose your hair (on your head) but it grows everywhere else. And we thought Mother Nature didn't have a sense of humour. Mother Nature is not only funny, she is generous too. She provides little 'pots' or moles in which these new hairs can grow and flourish and become conversation pieces

A dark pigment line runs down your belly  from your cheerio, I mean belly button, to your you-know-what. This could serve a few purposes. You might not be able to see your vajayjay anymore, so the line helps you out. OR if this is your second or third pregnancy chances are your vajayjay no longer resembles a vajayjay so the line is almost like a tracking system...follow the line and at the end X marks the spot (or a big mole with a hair in it)
You snore, you sweat and you fart. A lot. In other words you turn into a man. This, thankfully, is reversible


Your eyesight is affected. Some women's eyesight may deteriorate while pregnant. Thankfully. If you saw yourself with a beard, moles and pigmentation during your pregnancy the nausea would probably last a lot longer


Some women shrink. Okay, not really! But because they're no longer wearing their killer heels and they've swelled up considerably it looks as though they've gotten shorter


Your boobs become loaded weapons. Should anyone piss on your parade, just squirt them in the eye with some of your mama's milk and declare "no use crying over it now"


As if pushing a watermelon out of a hole the size of a golf ball wasn't bad enough, MN prepares you for the birth with a dose of constipation and 'roids...if you can push a poo out while pregnant you'll definitely be able to push out a human being...


These are a some of the things to look forward to while pregnant that very few women will openly discuss over tea and cupcakes.

Would I put myself through all of this in order to be a mom. HECK YES!!!!

The upside of being over the hill

People told me there was something liberating about turning 40. I thought it was an excuse people made up for being OLD! I thought it was what 40 year olds told themselves in order to feel better.

Let me tell you, as a newly turned 40 woman, there IS something very liberating about it. Years ago, in my early 20's, a phase I wouldn't wish on anyone, except cocky 20 year old's, I watched an episode of Oprah with Victoria Principal. She was being interviewed about her life, her achievements, her career, and her age. She was in her 40's and loving it. She said in her 20's and 30's she'd walk into a room full of people and wonder whether she's good enough for them. In her 40's she walked into a room filled with people and she wondered whether they were good enough for her.

I'm new to the naughty forties and am still a little cautious. I don't want to go doing cart wheels with my new found (40) freedom only to bust a hip. There are days when I feel old and over the hill and I know I can't do a lot of things that I could way back when. But there are a lot more when I feel like I'm standing on top of the hill, looking down at all those 'lost souls' with tight abs, asses and boobs, but 'lost' nevertheless.

In my 40's I look forward to not giving a continental about what people think or say about me. Especially those who don't know me, because as far as I'm concerned, I'm like fungi. I grow on you. If you spend time with me you'll know that my sense of humour is dry, almost obnoxious. To some I'm offencive and insensitive but that's me. I love deeply, I protect fiercely, I laugh loudly. My husband and children are my life and there is nothing I will not do for them or the people I call friends. Quite frankly, if you don't get me then you don't get me!

I love that every scar, wrinkle, laugh line and frown line is a mark of how far I've come. They're lines that represent hurt, sadness, joy, laughter and happiness. And there's still space for a whole lot more. Like an incomplete canvass I'm a work of art in progress and I can't wait to see it when it's complete.

I love that I've tried on various skins and I've finally found the one I'm comfortable in. I've been a Goth. I've tried the whole Jane Fonda health nut dress thing. I've been a new romantic and I've been a bad Robert Smith impersonator. Through the years ( and tears) its grown even more comfortable and it finally fits perfectly.

I love the fact that I've earned the right to be able to tell people to f#ck off if I wanted to. Of course I'm far too polite to do this but the fact that I could if I wanted to is a pleasant thought.

I'm thrilled that my days of climbing the corporate ladder are over. I love my job. I love the companies I've worked for and the opportunities I've had but the days of proving my worth for an increase or a promotion are no longer the bee all and end all. at this stage of my life my husband, children and friends come first.

I cherish the fact that I could tattoo 'been there done that' across my saggy ass.

I'm content in my beliefs, my ideas and opinions. They've taken 40 years to try out and test and I'm happy. Of course I'm quite happy to listen to others but I also know that they're like sphincters. Everybody's got one.

I'm now a cougar...

I look forward to receiving my pensioner's discount (in a few years, of course).

At the ripe old age of 40 you appreciate the smaller things in life. Like good friends. Family. Love. Health. And your own teeth.

I don't have to suffer fools (or periods) gladly any more.


I look forward to hitting my sexual peak...apparently that happens sometime soon and I can't wait (I'm sure hubs can't wait either).

Sisters in (bingo flap) arms, what do you love about being 40?

a REAL baby bag!

I am loving my Jean Kelly baby bag.

This weekend I was flying solo and didn't have enough arms for Ben's bag, Emma's bag and my bag.

Also with my ever decreasing brain power and memory I know I'll leave one of them behind somewhere.

So on Friday evening I packed everything that I might need for the weekend into my super stylish Jean Kelly (nappy) bag. Ben's nappies, creams, formula, bottles, wet wipes and spare clothes went in along with Emma's spare clothes, shoes, cold drink, nik naks and her favourite toys.

I threw in my purse, kindle, makeup bag and everything else I thought I might need.


Voila! Everything remembered. Nothing left behind. Including the baby xxx

The Jean Kelly nappy bag that I have is available via the shooshoos website and costs R999 (including delivery).

Where there's fog there's God

Our little girl, our heaven sent angel, our gift from above has moments where I think this is not my child. My child is sweet and cute and funny and well behaved. She is tantrum free and listens to mom and dad. She goes to bed on time, she doesn't scream and shout like a banshee and she happily devours her vegetables. There's moments when I feel like I need to arrange an excorism instead of a play date. And it's at times like these that I need to remind myself that she is a God send. That she is our blessing and that my journey is to be a part of hers.

Emma's first home, The Lighthouse Baby Shelter is run by Eleanor, a devout born again Christian. The babies and toddlers are raised knowing Jesus loves them and that they are all very special. This seems an odd way to open a post, but it helps to put things into perspective.

I have always believed in something bigger than me. When I'm behaving myself I believe in a heaven. When I fall by the wayside I pray that there's no hell. But this particular day I became a believer and that's when things changed.

It was a Saturday, in 2009. It was Nelson Mandela's 67 minutes of kindness and I was off to visit Emma at the shelter. Situated on a main road and close to Northgate, there are always people popping in to drop off food, nappies, formula, toys or just spend some time kiddies. And this day was no different, except that there were a whole lot of people doing their 67 minutes. I was sitting in the lounge with Emma on my lap while the other kiddies and babies were outside enjoying the sun.

While I sat with my baby girl in my arms the room filled with mist. Like when the washing machine is running and the windows are closed. I walked into the kitchen to see whether the tumble dryer or washing machine was on. I checked plug points to make sure nothing was burning, even though there was no smell. Sitting back down on the couch I waited for Eleanor. I needed to ask her what this mist was. I needed to make sure I wasn't going mad or that it wasn't the onset of a migraine. Eleanor walked in, looked around and said "I see God's visiting today". "Um, what do you mean?" "When we're expecting a lot of people, like today, the mist covers the babies. It's God laying a protective blanket over his special angels. He's keeping them safe!"


I couldn't wait to get home and tell Mark about the mist I had seen. I told him what Eleanor had said about it being a visit from God, or the Holy Spirit and had filled the entire house. Even as a reborn Christian Mark looked at me like I was slightly insane. "Did you drive home with Cheech and Chong?" Still sceptical and not quite believing me he called his oldest and closest friend, also a believer in the BIG book. After a catch up of "Buddy! Buddy? Watzuuuuuuuup!" and small talk around cricket, football and rugby Mark asked what forms the holy spirit could or would take. Mark looked at me, smiled and then put the phone down. "He says a mist...the holy spirit can and often takes on the form of a mist!"


I've only ever seen that mist one other time. The day Mark and I went for our final meeting with Eleanor and Wanita to let them know, that as a couple, we had agreed that Emma would join our family. After quite a grilling and a good once-over we walked into the nursery where Emma was fast asleep. And there just above her cot was the very same mist.


The Lord was keeping her safe until she was safe with us...

The Alphabet according to toddlers

A is for angel...you can't get cross or frustrated or annoyed with me. I'm an angel and I can prove this cos I hear you telling everyone just that

B is for butt...my brother's a butthead, my sister's a buttface, your breath smells like a butt (Butt is also interchangeable with 'Poop' or 'Poopie')

C is for cry...what I do best. Cry when I'm hungry. Cry when I'm tired. Cry when I have to go to bed. Cry when I have to eat veggies. Cry when buttface gets a toy I want. Cry when butthead won't let me watch my favourite TV show

D is for doodoo...you say doodoo, I say sleep. You say doodoo I say poo. No wonder things get lost in translation

E is for ever and ever...that's how long I'll love you until I turn 13

F is farts...mine, yours, grandpa's and granny's. They always crack me up

G is for grandparents...grammy, granny, gran, granddad, grandpa! Whatever you call them they're wrinkly and squishy and always have presents hidden somewhere

H is for holes...if there's a hole it needs to be filled. A nose hole, an ear hole, a belly button hole

I is for I (the pronoun)...I want, I need, I must have, I like...

J is for jelly...jelly and custard, jelly bowls, jelly sweets, my mom's jelly arms and jelly tummy

K is for know it all...yes at this tender age I already know it all

L is for lullaby...those songs you (try) sing me to sleep with. Off key and out of tune isn't going to work. Save it for the shower

M is for me and mine...similar to the pronoun 'I'. If I see it it's mine. If I like it it's mine. If it's in area anywhere near me it belongs to me

N is for no...no I will not go to bed. No I will not share. No I will not eat broccoli. No I don't want to listen to you right now

O is for 'oh no!'...what mom or dad normally say when I'm caught in the middle of something! 'Oh no! What are you doing?' 'Oh no! I hope that's not permanent ink!'

P is for poop and pee...the more the better

Q is for quite quiet...never completely but sometimes quite quiet. And then you'd better worry (often followed by 'Oh no!')

R is for rules...that have no other use than to be thrown out the window

S is for smile...THAT smile that melts your heart quicker than global warming can melt an iceberg

T is for tantrum...boy oh boy I know how to throw them at the flip of a switch, the click of a finger or a shake of a head

U is for unconditional love...the kind of love you get from me no matter how much you scream and shout, get cross or sad with me

V is for vomit...projectile is best but any kind of vomit gets a great reaction from you

W is for why...why does my willy stick out and my sister's doesn't? Why does daddy have two beards? Why can you say 'sh#t' and I can't?

X is for...x is for...my vocab doesn't stretch that far

Y is for youth...its on my side and I'm gonna use it

Z is for zzzzzz....because you said so xxx

Bloggone it Blog Awards!

I'm not one for shameless self promotion but I thought 'dear heck (as Emma would say) why not?'

I started writing my blog in 2011. My very first post was titled Raising Emma and it served as an introduction to a little girl that changed my life in such a big way.

I've come a long way since then. In fact we all have. I've just turned 40. Emma is now three and she has new baby brother called Ben. Ben doesn't do very much. He eats, poops, sleeps, cries, smiles, eats, poops, sleeps...

Mark as a husband is his same awesome self. But as a dad he excels. He really is SUPER DAD.

My blog has also come a long way and it's such a large part of my life. I have 'met' the most incredible people through this online journal and for that I'm thankful.

I love writing. I've always wanted to write and Emma has been my inspiration. I'm even thinking about turning my blog into a book. The way I see it is that there'd be some posts (especially the more popular ones) from my blog, along with some exclusive never-read-before ones. I'm also thinking about sharing more of me and my life experiences...those that have made me what I am today.

I'm hoping to have beautiful illustrations included (so if you or anyone you know of can assist here lemme know).

However I'm getting ahead of myself.

Kidzworld is hosting their 2nd Annual Mommy Blogger Competition and I'm very excited. Last year's winner, Stacey Vee, has been my biggest inspiration. She's an amazing mom and a very talented writer. I'm hoping when I grow up I'll be just like her.

Of course there's other moms that keep me laughing out loud while trying to not pee in my pants and those that have me doing the UGLY CRY...

Pop over to their blogs and see what I'm talking about...

Sharon at The Blessed Barrenness (btw awesome new website Sharon)

Our Reluctant Mom Celeste


The fabulous Margot at  Jou ma se blog

and Miss Preggy otherwise known as Jess

Why not pop over the Kidzworld's website and nominate your favourite mommy blogger. Whether it's me (shameless plug) or not...support your mommy blogger today!

F*CK KEEP CALM...

Why I love being a mom

I've always wanted to be a mom. Ever since I can remember I wanted to have children that I could love and cuddle and kiss and play with. I dreamt of dressing them up, taking them to school, watching them at sports day and cheering them on in school plays.
I longed for the days where I could watch my little girl at a ballet recital or tapping her way through a dance exam. I would drop my little boy off at cubs and like my mom, I would be Baloo the bear. I would work in the tuck shop and attend parents evening.

And like my mother I too would say and do mom 'things'.

(***Disclaimer: some of these things were said in the 70's and 80's so they might not be politically correct in this day and age)

"just wait til your father gets home!"

"carry on crying and I'll give you something to cry about"

"if the wind changes direction your face will stay like that"

"if your eyes roll back any further they'll get stuck at the back of your head!"

"clean behind your ears. There's cauliflowers growing back there!"

"stop digging for diamonds"

"I don't want to see any food left on your plate. There's children starving in Africa"

"you are not going out dressed like THAT!"

"stop it! Otherwise I'm turning this car back now!"

"back so soon? I thought you were running away"

"I'll knock you into next week!" (* that's one of those non PC ones)

"those things on the side of your head are not for decoration you know!"

"stop screaming like a foghorn!"

"if you can't find a job one day you can always work on a ship as a foghorn!"

"I'll put soap in your mouth you say that again!"

"your hair looks so nice in a brush cut" (!?!)

"get off the phone now! Otherwise we'll have to surgically remove it from your head"

"stop being a smart ass! Nobody likes a smart ass"

"oh look there's something on your cheek" (wiping it away with her spit)


"let's fix your hair" (spitting on it)


"yes you are adopted!"

"yes you are the postman's child!"

"if only you were adopted"

"snot is not a vegetable"

"shut the door! Were you born in a barn"

"you'll wear that when pigs can fly"

What did your mom say that still makes you smile?

Nipple Caps and Hair Clips

A friend of mine bought a set of nipple caps from the recent sexpo. Yes it's a real friend. It's not me pretending to be the friend. I wear nipple caps everyday. They're called shoes!

So this friend of mine buys a pair of nipple caps. She thinks they'll be great for those passionate nights with the man in her life. She tries them on once or twice but soon finds out that the double sided tape is removing layers of her epidermis. Taking them off is far too painful and there really isn't a return on investment so they soon end up, unused, in one of the drawers of her bedside table.

Forgotten in the drawer along with the nine foot adult (unused) toy (proving that one size does not fit all), the weight loss soap and breast enlarging cream for company, the nipple caps spent their days dreaming of strippers and sadomasochists.

Months later my friend's niece was visiting with her mom and my friend suggested that her niece go play 'dress up' in her room. While aforementioned friend was having coffee and a chat downstairs the little girl was in heaven - high heeled shoes, makeup, nail polish, a jewellery box and a whole lot more.

She tried on dresses and petticoats. Shoes with heels, shoes with sparkles, flip flops, slippers, sandals, boots. She applied makeup - lipstick for rouge, eyeliner for lipstick, blue eyeshadow, purple eyeshadow, green eyeshadow. She rubbed off the black 'lipstick', put on red lipstick' wiped off the red lipstick, put on pink lipstick, took that off too. Reapplied the red lipstick. Discovered the jewellery box. Pearls, brooches. Earrings from the 80's, dangly earrings, cubic zirconia earrings, clip ons, hoops, studs.

After an hour or so she made her way down the stairs to show off her new look. Very pleased with herself she did a twirl, rattled the jewellery and pouted her lips.She showed off her makeup skills and glowed when mom and auntie commented on a job well done. She put the too-big handbag's strap back on her shoulder and did another turn for good measure.

And then they saw her hair. On either side of her head were long shiny silver tassels...which were attached to the nipple caps!

She had discovered THE drawer and a novel use for the nipple caps. And then they peered in the handbag. Oh yes! She had discovered the drawer!

My little treasure troll

Emma's hair saga continues. Last night a friend of mine came over to do something to attempt to do something with Emma's hair.

She was gentle and sweet and kind with Emma and knew all the tricks. She put vaseline around the hairline and had Emma help - all in front of a mirror. Little Miss Em was in her 'emmament' as she stared at her reflection hearing how cute/pretty/gorgeous/beautiful she is.

Emma was happy to have the relaxer put on. She was happy when Niki massaged it in (only a little) and was also unfazed by having it washed out. She was content having the detangler put on but when the (rather expensive) comb came out Emma ran and hid. And screamed and cried. And there was no one near her.

As much as we begged and pleaded and bribed, Emma wouldn't let us brush, comb, condition or tie it back.

This morning when she left for school she looked like my favourite treasure troll from the 80's...

Niki, being black, assured me that if it's done properly it doesn't hurt nearly as much as our little sprogs would have us believe so the new plan is to take Emma to Niki's house where Niki and her 16 year old daughter will do her attempt to do her hair. I'll leave her there. I trust Niki implicitly so I know they won't hurt her and if she screams and cries and hollers and performs I won't be there to witness it.

You know that saying "if a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it does it make a sound". Well, I'm adapting it a little "if a child screams while she's having her hair done and you're not there to hear it does she actually scream".

Growing Up

Growing up is inevitable. Emma's just turned three, I've just hit the dreaded four oh and Ben is just shy of four months.

My blog is growing up too. I started writing July last year. I think it was the 25th. Almost one year old young, it's time to become a WEBSITE, so while it's still a work in progress you can pop over for a visit.

There's a wordpress blog version.

I'll gradually start phasing the two blogs out, one baby step at a time...

Toddlers were harmed in the making of this programme

My friend and fellow blogger Tanya recently did a post on "Toddlers and Tiaras", a topical and much talked about show on the TLC channel. Even if you haven't seen it yourself, you'll have heard friends and fellow moms talking about (and I doubt positively).

This morning I was up with little Ben and while he slept in my arms I thought I'd subject myself to reality TV and this particular show happened to be on.

One of the 'pageant mommies' had me cringing as she subjected her child to long hours of practising, hair pulling and eyebrows been tweezed. All in the name of beauty. All to win a pageant. Jeanie Alcalar came across as pretty abusive. If her daughter wasn't doing what she wanted she'd grab and pull her across the room and if her daughter went to her for a hug she'd push her away.

I noticed when the moms are interviewed it's very rarely about the toddler. The 'stage mom' uses words like "we", "us" and "ours" but there's also a lot of "I want her to win", "I've spent a lot on this so she better do well" and "I make sure she practises otherwise she looks like a complete idiot on stage and embarrasses me".

There's moms who spray tan their kids and get 'flippers' so their teeth are even and sparkly white. Stylists give them BIG hair (which Marge Simpson would envy) while makeup artists colour them in with eyeliner, pens, blush, lipstick and mascara. There are no limits for these mothers and botoxing an eight year old isn't uncommon. BOTOX at EIGHT to get rid of WRINKLES!

They are made to practise for hours on end and pageant days are long and gruelling. They're fed loads of sugar to stay awake and to perform at their best. Their fear of letting mom and dad down is palpable and the day ends in 'snot and trane' for most. BUT of course these moms will insist that their children LOVE IT.

I think what made me particularly sensitive to this was Emma and my visit to a hair salon on Sunday morning. I've been meaning to have her hair done by a professional for ages. I don't know a lot about black hair. I know that it's hard to manage and I know it's major upkeep, but in terms of plaiting, braiding, combing, etc I have no idea. None. Niks. Zilch. The most we do with her hair is wash and condition and like a lot of toddlers Emma hates having her hair brushed or even touched. So we don't. I've been told by friends that  also know relaxers aren't good for children under the age of three but I've also been told that there's gentler ones for little girls, and if it's done properly, then it won't damage the hair.

Believing I had taken Emma to the right salon (they specialise in kiddies' hair) I asked them if they could  take a look and see if they could comb out the knots. They assured me it would be fine and that she'd look beautiful afterwards.

Emma jumped onto the chair to have her hair washed and was suitably impressed when she saw a TV screen above her head. "This is going well," I thought and so I popped out to get a coffee. Coming back up the escalator I heard screaming. SCREAMING and WAILING and SOBBING...it was a little voice I recognised.

It was Emma.

Dropping my coffee I ran towards the salon and there Emma was, one woman combing her hair and another one physically restraining her. I asked them to stop but they told me it always hurts (especially the first time) and she'll get used to. They told me to go outside so that Emma wouldn't see me upset.

I had no idea what to do. I walked outside and called Mark. I'm not sure what he thought had happened when he said "Hello" and got the sound of me bawling on the other side. My heart was breaking for my little girl and I was to blame. I was letting them do this. My husband, the calm and rational one, told me to calm down and take a breath (or 10). He assured me that we needed to do this and it would be okay BUT in the background I could still hear Emma.

"That's it" I decided, "Enough!" In I stormed, like a lioness defending her young. "You need to stop. You need to stop now! You should have stopped when she asked you to!"

"But it's going to hurt. We're combing through dreadlocks you know!"

"But did you put any conditioner on her hair or something to make it softer?"

"Nah, you can bring her in tomorrow and we'll relax it!"

Firstly there's no way I'm going to get Emma back into that salon again. At least not easily. And I've also been told by my (black) friends that you're not supposed to put a relaxer on clean hair. It should be three days or more after a wash. Clearly not knowing enough I couldn't tackle them as I should have but thank goodness for my mommy friends out there who helped me with advice and information yesterday, especially Anita.

I felt awful. My heart broke that I had allowed this to happen. I felt like a mother out of 'Toddlers and Tiaras'. My only saving grace, I suppose, is I didn't justify it and I didn't stand by and watch. I'm mot sure how those moms do it on the TV show.

This week I have a friend coming over to our house to show me how to care for Emma's hair. I know there'll be a few tears (more than likely from me) but it won't be anything like Sunday.

I've been wondering what moms would do if pageants like this were ever introduced in SA. What price would you pay to make sure your child could compete. But more importantly, what price would your child pay?


PS - Emma scored a Dora the Explorer Doll with a baby Boots and a DVD because I felt so awful...

KEEP CALM AND HUG A MOM

Tomorrow's Mother's Day. The one day (out of 365) where mom maybe gets a cup of tea in bed (ok, maybe not), doesn't have to change the crap nappies (wishful thinking) and put your feet up (um, okay!). It's a chance to thank moms for everything they do, tirelessly, fearlessly, happily. From kissing a sore knee, to wiping the tears away. Moms keep you safe from the monsters at night with a visit from the tickle monster. There is no love like a mother's.

It's also a day to reflect on the blessings in your life - whether teeny tiny or tweeny. I'm thankful for the two little blessings in my life that keep me sane, drive me insane and make me smile.

So tomorrow I'll take a little time to give thanks to Emma and Ben who have changed my life and made it a journey instead of a destination.

They have shown me how to love, how to give and how to receive. They are teaching me kindness, patience and understanding that I have never quite achieved. Without them I am not a mother, I am simply a woman.

Because of you every day is a roller coaster ride filled with laughter, frustration, exhaustion, exhilaration, play and learning. A butterfly is a fairytale, a cloud is a dragon, a kiss magical. I get to stop and smell the flowers and stare into the eyes of a bug. A star is to be wished upon and a sunbeam something to be chased.

Because of you I get to be a princess, a fairy, a mermaid, a giant. I get to have tea parties in the lounge and crawl into a house made out of chairs and blankets. I get share secrets with you and laugh out loud. I get to sing songs and dance around the house in my pyjamas.

Thanks to you I get to appreciate the little things in life, like a long hot bath, a good book, sitting down for a meal or getting my hair done. I get to see life through the eyes of my mom and realise that everything she did (right or wrong) she did out of love. Hearing "love you mama" makes the late nights and early mornings worth every moment. Watching you grow into your awesomeness is an honour and privilege, and I can only hope that I have a little something to do with that.

The greatest gift I have ever been given is the opportunity to be a mom. To all the moms out there Happy Mother's Day - take time to relax and wallow in the joy you have. To all the children, tiny, tweeny or 'old', take the time to hug your mom

 xxx

Jimmy Shoo Shoos

Once considered fairly stylish, even occasionally making a mark on the hierarchy of fashionistaness, I now find myself more of a case study of what not to wear, or at least what one shouldn't wear.

Oh de toilet and barf de parfum is what I smell of. Remains of the Day is not in reference to an artsy fartsy movie but rather what food is left on my shoulder, the snot on my sleeve and the 'only God knows what' on my shoe.

Recently I had what I thought was a new mole. Besides thinking I should get to a dermatologist to check it out, I thought I looked a little Marilyn Monroeish, only to discover it was a choc chip from a muffin Emma had been eating.

A booger hanging from my nose is no longer reason to get embarrassed but rather a relief - at least it's my booger!

Getting dressed in the mornings isn't about what matches or looks 'sex in the city' cool. Nope, it's finding the item of clothing which has the least amount of unidentifiable stains.

Handbags, once prized possessions, carry wet nappies, pieces of food dropped in, or purposely left, bouncy toys, squeaky toys, formula, bottles, dry nappies, bum cream, teething gel, saline drops, telament drops, tampons, wet wipes, snacky things and a whole lot more. Looking more like a bag lady than a MILF I realised things had to change. And quickly.

Moms, meet the jeankelly bag! A beautiful and stylish man-made leather bag with genuine leather detail. There's space for everything and anything that baby, toddler and you might need to carry around. There's a changing mat too!

A stylish mom needs a stylish baby (or is that the other way round?) so Ben now has a rather suave leather bib and a leather burp blanket, which doubles as a change mat.

Being a stylish mommy has never been so easy with shooshoos. Started in 1996 in Cape Town to uplift disadvantaged communities, this proud;y South African company has grown into a worldwide brand with sales in over 20 countries. And now there's the jeankelly nappy bag too.

I can't wait to pop out this weekend with mine. I hope I remember to take Emma and Ben with me.

So Many Colours, So Little Time

My birthday week has been pretty awesome to say the least. A surprise dinner with friends, a facial from Aiden at Pure Hair in Craighall and an evening with Haagen-Dazs at Soho NYC Salon at Sandton City last night.

If you haven't been to the salon I suggest you get there ASAP. Especially this weekend. Soho NYC is celebrating moms with Haagen-Dazs ice cream.

The staff are absolutely awesome and go out of their way to make you as comfortable as possible.
The mani I had made me feel ever so girly and glamorous. I was supposed to have a pedi too but I didn't want to expose people to my sea anemone toes.

There's an awesome array of nail polishes available with fun names like Trophy Wife and So Many Clowns...So Little Time.

Every Friday is TGIF with cocktails, music and a special price on the mani/pedi combo.
It's all very NYC! Even the parking bays especially reserved for clients, right outside the salon. The thinking is that finding a parking space shouldn't take longer than having your nails done! Love it!

Treat yourself to a bit of pampering moms...because you're worth it.

To the world you're just a mom doing the best you can, but to your family you are the world!

Happy Mothers Day xxx

Thank you Mama

Let's face it. Very few of us will ever make it to the Olympics let alone stand on the podium with a medal and rather odd looking arrangement of flowers in our hands. But in our mom's eyes we're champions. We're the best at whatever we do and we'll always be winners.

I remember years ago, I went with a friend to her little boy's soccer game. He must have been five or six at the time and still finding his place in the world...and the soccer field. He ran, or rather skipped, around the ball saying "tippy toes, tippy toes, stay on your tippy toes!" If the ball came his way he darted off, sans ball, in the other direction.When the coach gestured at him to run he waved back and continued skipping. "Holy of holies" I thought to myself, too scared to make eye contact with my friend. "She must be cringing with embarrassment." I thought.  But she wasn't. She was bursting with pride. She was his biggest supporter and in her eyes her little boy was THE star of the game. I didn't get it then but I get it now.

As the mother to two beautiful adopted children my heart overflows every time they do something. Anything. It doesn't matter what. They are my heartbeat. They are my champions. They are winners. 

2012 is the year of the Olympics and my 2nd year celebrating Mother's Day as a mom. P&G (along with Pampers, Always, Olay, Pantene, Gillette, Vicks and Head & Shoulders) is celebrating Mamas of Olympians and the Mamas who have raised great kids.

Mom I salute you for all the sacrifices you made. I can only hope that I will be half the mom to Emma and Ben...

Thank you for :

always loving me. Even when I wasn't very lovable (think Emo before Emo was fashionable)

not blowing a gasket when you caught me topless, making out with some arb boy on the couch

not asking any questions when you found a pack of cigarettes in my school blazer. You do know they weren't mine? I was keeping them for a friend.

always laughing at my bad jokes

thinking I'm the brightest star in the sky, the most beautiful pansy in the pot, the coolest kid on the block

having no idea what I do work wise but pretending you do

always taking my call

defending me to the end...no matter what

being my shoulder to cry


What are you thankful for? Pop by P&G's Facebook page and say "Thank you, Mama" along with the rest of the world...

Ngiyabonga mama |  NdiyabulelaMama   |  Dankie mamma |  Ke a leboga mme

Ke a leboga mama  |  Keya leboha mama  |  Inkomu mama

 Siyabonga mama  |  Ndo livhuwa mama / Ro livhuwa mama

Ngiyathokoza mama |  Thank You Mom

  

to the moon and back isn't enough!

Dearest Emma

Tomorrow Today we celebrate your 3rd birthday and I can't tell you just how much of an honour it is. We have watched you grow from a squishy lump of deliciousness into a funny, smart, witty little girl. We are privileged to be a part of your journey and as much as we'd like to keep time from moving on, we can't wait to see the woman you become.

Your birthday is a special time to the celebrate the gift of you, to us, the people you meet and the world at large. I knew from the very first time we met that there was something incredibly special about you and you prove me right with every day that passes.

You have taught me to dance with no limits, play in the puddles and savour each and every moment. A day with you is a day filled with laughter, adventure and new friends. Before you I was existing. With you I live. Emma you saved me from myself three years ago and when it felt like everyone else had given up on me, you were prepared to give me a chance.

My wish for you, as you turn three, is that you stay true to yourself, regardless of those around you. Don't sit on the fence when you can explore the other side. Never settle for anything. Especially not a day old cupcake.

My hope for you is that you be the best you can be at whatever you decide. I hope love finds you when you're ready for it and never lets you go. And if it does, I hope it leaves you stronger and wiser, never defeated.

I hope you know you are always good enough and that that's good enough for us. You are the reason our home feels a brighter and our hearts warmer. It is because of you that I get to whizz down slides, touch the clouds on a trampoline and fly with the birds on a swing.

Once I dreamt of you. Now I wish and hope for you. No one will ever love you as fiercely or as deeply. There will never be a time that you're not on my mind and in my heart. It is with enormouse pride that I call you my daughter and I look forward to the day you call me your friend.

With you nothing is impossible because I'll always have you in my corner. Your little words of encouragement keep me going. Just one "C'mon mamma you can do it" and I honestly believe I can do anything.

I love you bigger than an elephant's bum, more than the stripes on a zebra and the spots on a leopard. Once upon a time I thought loving you to the moon and back was a lot. Now I know it's nowhere near!

Happy Birthday Emma xxx

I hope you never lose your sense of wonder
You get your fill to eat
But always keep that hunger
May you never take one single breath for granted
God forbid love ever leave you empty handed

I hope you still feel small
When you stand by the ocean
Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens
Promise me you'll give faith a fighting chance

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance

I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Living might mean taking chances
But they're worth taking
Lovin' might be a mistake
But it's worth making

Don't let some hell bent heart
Leave you bitter
When you come close to selling out
Reconsider
Give the heavens above
More than just a passing glance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance

Always open...always fashionable

Naartjie launched their on line store last month and I've taken advantage of the convenience and ease a few times already. Of course I miss the retail therapy and interaction with the awesome staff so I still pop into the store every now and then.

The new Nicolway shopping centre boasts a Naartjie shop and I couldn't resist a visit last week. Of course I told my husband I was only 'popping in'. Naartjie's winter range is super cute and now I get to shop for a little girl AND a baby boy. I was a little rushed for time and the store was fairly busy so I figured I'd do my RT via the web as soon as I got home BUT Ben needed a feed, Emma needed a bath and playtime and husband needed supper. No shopping for the wicked I'm afraid.

But as soon as everyone was fast asleep I made myself a cup of tea, logged on and shopped to my heart's content. No queues, no parking, no trolley bashing incidents and no weird looks cos I was in my pj's.

Oh my dear (as Emma would say)! Curses Naartjie. Curse you for the cutest range of clothing. Ben got a super cute padded jacket and a pair of jeans and Miss Emma got tops, leggings, pyjamas and a cute little jacket, thanks to the 'awesome twosome' promotion.

Hang on a second...RAM's at the gate with my delivery! Wohooooo!


PS - don't forget to sign up for the birthday club

Give them cake. And cupcakes...

Emma fell from the heavens on the 10th May 2009. We met her six weeks later and my life changed forever. Every year I celebrate a day in honour of the little girl that saved me from myself. A little girl that makes me smile a lot more, laugh a lot louder and look at the world very differently.

In three years I have learned more from Emma than any school, university or peer has ever taught me. I have learned to be more patient, to love without limits and to give of myself unconditionally. I have also learned to care deeply for the things that matter and less for the things that don't.

The most important lesson of all, however, is that a cupcake tastes better when eaten upside down (the cupcake, not me).

So on Saturday we celebrated our daughter's 3rd birthday. It was an awesome day, surrounded by friends and family. A day filled with love, laughter and pretty cupcakes...

The letters were hired from In Good Company

The venue, The River Cabin, was the perfect setting for a party

I bought the bottles from Consol Glass. The paper straws, chalk tags, paper plates, serviettes and packets are all from In Good Company

 I had made Emma the pinkest tutu but she had her face painted like a kitty cat and stayed in character the whole day

Paper straws, pink drinks and hearts

Danielle from Moemas did all the food for the party. The grass and wooden mushrooms were hired from In Good Company. I bought the glass bowls and decorated them with different ribbons and filled them with sweets. Pink of course!

Butterfly, star and cupcake cookies in a bowl

Hedgehogs, busy bees and ladybug cupcakes

Yumminess in a jar

Veggie crudites and jelly bowls from Moemas

Sugar overload was prevented (slightly) with fresh fruit and pretzels

Fruit baskets were placed on picnic blankets around the garden

The mommies received a little thank you gift too

 

I made the bird nests and filled them with different types of chocolate eggs

The pinata ala Melinda was filled with all sorts of goodies

Little Ben was in awe of everything going on around him

The beautiful birthday cake was a magical toadstool. Danielle from Moemas included a baby Ben bunny

 

The kiddies party table

 

Emma making a wish



The enchanting little Ben

A delicious birthday cake, enjoyed by both the kiddies and moms and dads

A very happy birthday girl

Thank you Danielle for making Emma's birthday such a wonderful occasion. The personal touches you added and help you offered played a huge part in making it such a success. Contact Moemas and get a 10% discount when booking your kiddies party

Sherene from innereyephotography captured the magical moments.

Balloons and kiddies bubble machine are from Elise at Jumping Jack Flash