Master Jim and Valentines Day

A couple of months ago, Master Jim came home from school very excited to tell us about his new “girlfriend”. Monique is her name, she has long black hair “nice and straight, not confused like yours, mom”, with big eyes “the biggest I have ever seen” and “sort of coffee caramel color skin, not skinny color like me, but little bit darker, but not too dark” (we’ve done our best to raise as neutral as possible to color differences in people, we all have the same blood running through our veins after all). Anyhoo, things were quiet for a while after that until:

On the Monday before Valentines he comes: “Mommy, you know I will have to get Monique something for Valemtimes, or else she will think I don’t care anymore”. So off I go to the shop to find the cutest little (cheap) Teddy bear. After inspecting it for about 5 minutes our young Master declared it suitable.

Thursday night (Valentines on Sunday): “Mommy, how do you suppose I am going to give this to Monique without anyone noticing, they might tease me you know?”. Wanting to see what he will come up with, I played the fool and pretended to have no idea.

Friday after school he is beaming “I did it Mom, I fooled them all with the oldest trick in the book. I waited until everyone was seated then I picked up me bag and asked teacher if I could speak to her in private. We went outside and I gave it to teacher and she sneaked it to Monique. They are such idiots, they all think I gave teacher a Valemtimes gift!”. (Never mind the fact that they are now teasing him for being ‘in love with teacher’, kids are so cruel).

So, did you tell Monique it was from you? “Nuh, I didn’t have to. She kissed me in second break, ’cause she knew I cared about her”

Mixed emotions: 1) should I be proud of him coming up with a workable plan or 2) should I be worried that my 7,5 year old is kissing girls in break?

I didn’t make to big a fuss about it – hope it pans out well.

Surprises were not over though, Sunday morning (Valemtimes Day) he wakes me with the cutest little pink bear (prettier than the one I bought)! Were did you get this, I asked. The answer came with the honesty and happiness radiating from his face: “I saved my tuck shop money for two whole weeks, and you know that is a very long time, until I had R23 and I gave it to the neivour and she bought it for me!”

What more could a mother ask for…
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Tribute to a Lady

From the first day you entered our lives you enriched each and every day.

You always took such pride in your shiny hair, 10 sometimes 15 times a day, or sometimes just for the heck of it when boredom set in you would groom yourself.

You never rushed, others may have been running around or chasing you from this room to the next, yet you never rushed. You always carried yourself with such ease, always the lady, always the queen.

Not even the temptation of food and sweet treats could make you loose your cool. Bite size treats were treated with just the right period of pausing before you would slowly cherish every taste, taking your time, enjoying it, savoring the moment.

You never caved before temptation, except for the one time, I will never forget:

I was watching TV late one Friday night when I heard this heart breaking “Aaai Jaaai Jaaai” coming from the bathroom… I walked in to see you standing in front of the toilet, clasping the edge of the bowl as if it was a matter of life or death. Just at that moment you looked into the bowl, threw your head back and cried again “Aaai Jaaai Jaaai”. On closer inspection I found you catnip mouse had fallen in…

My dear Wicka, you were taken too quickly, never again will you look at my with those big eyes, pawing your way to my heart.

I’ll miss you my little lady…
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Pay It Forward

I just finished watching this movie (again). It struck me, more than anything, how many things I’ve never said to my Mom…

You have always been my best friend, the one person in the world who has never doubted me.

You have always been there for me with encouragement, support and unfailing love. A love so profound I can only hope to God that I can carry it over to my son.

You’ve carried me through difficult times, no matter how big your burden might have been. You’ve never turned me away because you were too busy or too tired.

You have made me stronger, you have taught me values and morals. You taught me to care for others, to help and protect those who can’t do it for themselves.

You are the most remarkable woman on the face of this earth.

I love you Mom…

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poespas (hat)

hallo julle!  ja, ek leef nog, maar my lewe is die laaste twee weke bietjie van ‘n poespas.  nee, ek skel nie vreeslik nie.  dit is in die hat en soos flintie se spuitpoep het dit by my vasgesteek.  net soos wat julle seker ook kan sien my keyboard weier om capitals te doen.  EK KAN OF ALLES SO TIK of alles kan so lyk, of as ek lus is vir baie pt, elke nou en dan my caps lock aansit en na die capital weer afsit.  nee wat, poespas

kom ons verduidelik eers die woord:  ‘n deurmekaarspul, is wat dit beteken. 

het so baie om julle te vertel en ek belowe ek gaan opvang, maar dit sal moet wag tot more.  ek het net gedink dat dit gepas sal wees om vir julle te laat weet dat ek nie in ‘n totale depressie in gegaan het na my laaste post nie, en daar is nie ‘n beter manier as met poespas nie.

ek sal more opvang met al die stories: hospitaal en doktors, sopkombuise (of die lack daarvan), master jim en valentines day, meetings, staff issues, ‘n wonderlike man, familie wat ek 11 jaar laas gesien het, en nog baie meer.

lekker slaap almal, ek lees nog gelowig elke dag en mis julle almal baie!

ps. hopelik werk die keyboard more ook beter!

My wereld vs joune

Snaaks watse draaie die lewe partykeer met mens loop.

Ek le gistermiddag John Grisham se boek “The Street Lawyer” en lees.  Nou ek kan myself mos vreeslik lekker by die goed inleef.  Wou van kleintyd ‘n prokureur word en het, tot my spyt nadat ek die volle LLB ge-swat het, besluit dit is nie vir my nie.  Dis nou tipies ek, wag tot ek klaar is met ‘n ding voor ek besluit ek wil dit nie meer he nie.

Anyhoo, die boek gaan oor die gap tussen arm en ryk.  Hoe ‘n jong prokureurtjie met ‘n briljante toekoms amper deur ‘n bum dood gemaak word en dan besluit om alles op te gee om ‘n poverty lawyer te word en vir die regte van die homeless te baklei.  Sounds like a man right up my alley, so ek lees lekker.

Toe manlief (oftewel Outoppie, soos wat Master Jim nou na hom verwys) van die werk afkom, besluit ons dis tyd vir bietjie R&R op die strand.  Daar gekom klim ons uit die kar en stap ewe lekker strand op en af, skulpies opgetel en al. 

So met die terugkom, vang my oog die publieke stort area en my hart skeur net daar in ‘n duisend stukke.  Man en vrou (moeilik om ouderdom te skat, die jare se spore le hard op hulle gesigte) met twee kinders, een seker so vier en die ander kan nog nie eens loop nie.  Hulle is besig om daar, in die wind en weer, onder die koue water te was en klere uit te spoel.  Elkeen het ‘n plastiese sak wat hulle werelds besittings inhou en hulle het elkeen twee of drie lae klere aan wat hulle stuk stuk afhaal en was.  So, sonder seep. 

Ons stap terug na ons kar toe en ek dink aan my huisie waareen ons nou gaan, waar gisteraand se oorbly braaivleis, complete met pap en sous en corn on the cob nog wag om vinnig in die microwave gedruk te word.  Aan die wasgoed wat lekker skoon in vars en ge-Sta Soft in die kas is nadat dit die hele dag in die son gehang het.  Aan my lekker sagte warm bed waar ek gaan neerval en wegsink na droomland.

Nodeloos om te se, ek kon nie aan die slaap raak nie.  Hulle gesigte het bly spook voor my.  Waar slaap hulle, wat eet hulle, waar kom hulle kos vandaan.

Ons doen so min vir ander want ons is so behep met wat hulle gaan doen met die geld, maar hoeveel keer het ons al vir iemand gaan kos koop.  Hoeveel van die t-shirts wat in my kas hang het ek nog net een keer aangehad, hoeveel van die goed het ek werklik nodig?  Drie duvet’s in die linnekas, in case iemand kom kuier, terwyl ‘n familie net die klere op hulle rug het om hulle warm te hou.

Wat het ek vandag vir iemand anders gedoen sonder om iets terug te verwag?

Dink nie ek kan vanaand verder lees aan die boek nie, ek voel eenvoudig te skuldig

The Big Move (continued)

So on Thursday and Friday night we moved most of the small stuff with the car.  On Saturday came moving day and guess what, I can’t get off from work!  So my darling husband gets stuck with arranging the cleaner, sorting out he last of the packing and the actual move.  I was on tentacles all day, not knowing what was happening.  At about 3pm I couldnt stand it anymore and was so glad when he called me (on a totally unrelated subject).  “How’s it going there” I asked.  “It’s going, but we will talk tonight”.  My Master Jim does not have a huge imagination for nothing – he got it all from me.  So I spent the rest of the afternoon dreaming up all sorts of horrors.  By the time I got home at about 5:30 it was all done.  I was totally overwhelmed.

So this one goes to you honey: Thank you, you are the best, I love you!  This is the one move where I had to do very close to nothing and you pulled it all off.  You are awesome and I love you!

“Master Jim” and the big move

My seven year old has, without a doubt, a very old soul.  I should have known that when he decided that 3 June (his initial due date) was not good enough and that he will stay put until the 5th of July.   Also the big frown on his face when he eventually emerged should have been a tell-tale sign as well.

A week or so ago he got very upset with me for interupting him mid-sentence.  “You and my dad always think you know what I want to say, but you know, I have a mind of my own that works very very well.  Sometimes I want to say something else and that is way I am so misunderstood”.  Oh my, I thought this only started at 16!

Last night when I got home he proudly proclaimed that he intends to change his name to Master Jim.  He thought it would suit him better that the one we agonized over for weeks and caused a huge family tiff.   I explained to him that it is not as simple as just changing it.  You have to be 18 and apply in the Government Gazette etc.  “Oh” was the only reply I got and I figured “Mmm, that was easy”.  I should have known better…

5 minutes later he came to me phone book in the one hand and pen and paper in the other:  Mommy, I’ll start writing the application, while you find the number, the numbers are way to small and becides, I don’t know the president’s name.

After a long, long discussion, we came to the agreement that, for now he will keep his name in public and at home he shall henceforth be referred to as Master Jim.  That settled then.

We are moving into our new house.  Same town, just a bit closer to work and bigger and cheaper.  Paying for a view when you only get home after dark just was not doing it for us anymore! 

We started packing up the car with whatever small things we can fit in there and took off.  While driving, we here him talking in all sorts of different accents.  I looked back to see him translating the conversation between his teddy bears.  At seven he owns 7 teddy bears, each with his own name and don’t you dare get a name wrong (“teddy bears have feelings too, you know”).  Turns out Mr Fluffy Love was telling Mr Petty Bones that he is afraid of moving to the new house because he is scared there might be monsters.  I don’t beat around the bush, so I asked him straight out whether he was scared of moving to the new house.  He immediately gave me his straight upper lip look and said “you are confused mommy, it’s not me, it’s Mr Fluffy Love”.  After another long talk about the new house and the tree in the garden with the tyre swing and the vegetable patch and the dog (that he’s wanted for so long), Mr Fluffly Love decided that it’s not such a bad thing after all.

He’s already in love with the place and have put in an order for a TV for his room as well as “huge pictures of girls on bikes”…

Carpe Diem

Wat anders kan mens doen?  Wanneer jy wakker word en voordeur toe strompel met slaap in die oe en ‘n gaap van hier onder in jou maag en die Suid-Ooster wind klap jou wakker en dra met hom die reuke en klanke van die vroeg oggend vissermanne.  Wat anders kan mens doen as om te se: Carpe Diem, today is my day!

Soos ons leer by The Greatest Salesman in the world (dankie, dankie, duisend dankies Og Mandino!): Today I will live like it is my last, I will multiply my efforts.  I am unique, I am nature’s greatest miracle!

Koebaai vir gister en hello vandag, kom ons kyk wat jy vandag na my kant toe gaan gooi!

Hello World!

Well, HELLO WORLD! For months now I have been reading the posts and contemplating starting my own blog, but you know what it’s like, right?  It’s like going to the dentist or washing the car, one of those things that can wait…

Today, as I got home after one of THOSE days, I decided, that’s it.  I’m blogging.  Somewhere, somehow I have to find a way to vent and this is it.  So here goes…

I work retail, mmmm fun! After a long day of going, yes sir, no sir, three bags full sir, all I wanted to do was get home, have a good cup of coffee, a siggie (or two) and catch up on the blog reading.  However, this is the scene that I walked into at 19:45:

A 7-year old with more energy that 10 ravers on speed and red-bull, running around naked as the day he was born (because “I’ve decided I don’t like clothes anymore, mommy”) while hammering away at little chunks of cement, on the living room tiles, he picked up in the garden (because “I  just want to find you some diamonds, mommy).  Cats twirling around my feet, for love, attention, food and a clean litter box (because they can’t do it in the garden like normal cats!) and stumbling over boxes (because I’m moving in two days and oh yes, have I mentioned, I work retail!).

BIG WHOOOOOSAAAAA MOMENT!!!

That was when I decided that this is my time to blog… let it all out in long, slow breaths and blog.

First, there was the office politics: two girls vying for my attention, trying to score browny points with the boss, each with their own version of a story, which by the way turned out to be half truths on both their parts.  Solution: call both into the office, tell both stories as they were told to you and watch the fireworks.  Not the best solution you may think, but I’ve tried everything over the past 10 months and nothing worked.  Maybe this will.

Then there was a call from a manager at another branch telling me to call this client as she wants to speak to me.  About what, he wouldn’t say.  Mystery intrigues me, so I called her.  Oh My Hat!  This lady of about 70 starts going off at me for a full 8 minutes about the “fraud” in my shop, about how pathetic we are, yada-yada-yada, just to figure out that it all happened at another shop!  To clear up any confusion, I manage a franchised branch of a popular cellular service provider.  After another 10 minutes on the phone, I’ve managed to calm her down and invited her for coffee and cookies next week to try and sort out the mess.  Just as I’m almost done with this, I notice one of the girls bouncing up and down next to me, phone in hand “someone wants to talk to you”.  Now, any normal human being would think that they can take a message.  Aaaaah, not where I work.  So I politely get old lady off the phone and onto the next one.  Mysterious lady number two (by the way, if you EVER get to read this: I know your voice by now, we only speak about 10 times a week!): hi, I need to buy a data bundle, can I just give you my credit card details over the phone.  No, you can’t, we never have and never will do a transaction like that.  Turns out manager no 1 who first dealt with old lady, felt obliged to phone head office and tell them about “the fraud in my shop, that I know about”.  Wake up dude, get the facts and then go running like a wet-nosed puppy with a floppy tail!

Then there was the man very politely (at first) telling me that I can take his daughters two phones and shove them where the sun have to been in a long, long, long time.  After sitting with him for two and a half hours we reached the conclusion that daughter number one does not like the phone and wants a new one and she wants the limit on her account lifted becasue she can’t make enought phone calls and there is nothing, actually, wrong with the phone.

Then there was the signage guys.  Cellular service provider contracted the repair of my signage to sub-contractor  number one, who felt that driving 150km to us is too far, so they sub-sub-contracted (does the word even exist?) it to the locals.  What a mistake!  First monkey number 1 asked me what is wrong with the sign?  Well, do you see any light shining from behind the lettering as it should, no, well then I guess that’s the problem.  So he leaves and comes back two hours later with re-inforcements: another monkey and two ladies, quite obviously restricted to office work on a normal day, in ski-pants and high-heels and enough make-up to cover the New York Fashion Week, all staring at the sign, asking me where it opens.  At this point I felt like being really bitchy, but OK, keep it together girl, you can do this.  I don’t know how it opens, if it is supposed to open, why it is not working or how to fix it.  They came to the conclusion that: 1 – they need to get a permit from Centre Management to work on the sign, 2 – they need to take the whole thing down to replace the ballist (this entails literally removing the roll-bolts from roof and taking it down completely), whereafter they can fix it.  Now, I don’t work in signage, never have and, God-willing, never will, but I know that you don’t need to take down the whole thing to fix it.  Anyhoo, they left and will be back next week “as it is a big job” and we will see how it all plays out.

OK, don’t know how long a post is supposed to be, but, in a nutshell that is what you can expect in days to come.  Hope you enjoy and visit soon!