So Close

Blah

Did an update post and I lost it.  Too cross and tired to another one.

In a nutshell - operation went fine, Kate already on the mend.  Me = as sick as a dog for the last 24 hours with some kind of bug. Been puking non stop.  Not a happy camper. 

I still don't know what they wear under those kilts

It was my sister's charity ball last night.  The evening was a great success, and we were all very, very proud of her.  It was so nice for us to see her in her natural habitat, among her Lordy folk doing her thing.  It is a part of her life that I have very little to do with, and it was actually so cool to see what a big role these people play in her life, and what a big role she plays in theirs. I was very proud of her.  And let me tell you, those Lordy folk aren't half bad. What a nice, normal bunch of people.  Even the pastor didn't seem to take offence when I asked if I could check under his skirt to find out once and for all, what men wear under those kilts. Purely in the interest of scientific research, of course.

Changing tack completely, I am feeling extremely anxious about Kate's operation tomorrow. I feel like puking, I am so nervous.  HATE hate hate the thought of her going under anaesthetic. Please keep her in your thoughts. I feel sick. Being a mother is like wearing your insides on the outside. Terrifying.

I think she wants me

I got an email from a blog reader telling me that I really shouldn't be giving old Zsuuusipoosi so much airplay.  She is loving that her hits have gone up from zero to 5,000 in one day and is using the opportunity to sprout even more of her gentle, loving wisdom. Good point.  So we wont be talking about my new best friend any more, except to say that I think Zsusie is a little turned on by me.  No seriously, I think she wants me.  Like, WHO DOESN'T! Can't say I blame her really, I am a rather sexy beast, with all that vulgar inappropriateness and all.  Smoooooch! (with tongue)

The IVF Monster checks in

Apologies for the delay in response, I've been too busy tending to a sick baby, one of the two I didn't kill.  Poor Madam Fifi Albertyn (formerly known as Katie E E) has an ear infection and tonsillitis.  Not fun.  Fortuitously, I took her to the ENT for a check up yesterday (tonsillectomy, grommets, adenoids and sinus wash scheduled for Monday - am so bloody nervous!)  so it is just as well the suckers are coming out on Monday. 

Thanks for all the love on the previous post, you are marvellous.  I wasn't at all upset by old Zsusie's vitriol, at least not for myself.  It is like someone calling you stupid when you know you are not, it is so off base and far from the truth, that it doesn't phase you in the slightest.  I was, and still am a little upset on behalf of the millions of women in Africa who she so disgustingly insulted, but you know what, she is clearly so ignorant, and so uneducated that I can't even take offence about that.  I just feel really sorry for her kids. Ouch. To have a mother like that, what chance do you have? 

 Plus her husband, the preacher, has videos on YouTube preaching about how it is wrong for men to stand and pee. Or sit and pee. I'm not sure, but one of the two will send you straight to hell.  V amusing. He has some other videos as well, but watching them makes my head want to explode, so I am not sure what they are about. But if you are thinking about doing IVF, perhaps you should listen to his sermon on the Seven Deadly Sins of IVF I must say, I did learn something out of this whole thing - I had no idea some people were opposed to IVF?  Never even entered my mind.  Shows you, you are never too old to learn! (IVFers, you have to check out this link, it is hysterical!)

And for all of those who were concerned that I would paint all Christians with the same brush, have no fear.  I got a very sweet note from a Baptist chap saying that while he doesn't agree with IVF and homosexuality (?), he would never do what old Nut Job did and he felt really saddened by her actions.  From the little I know about Christians, I know that the real ones don't behave like that. She isn't a Christian, she is a nut job. 
 
I suppose I should be honoured though, as a commenter said:  the woman who wrote this is well known in Christian circles over here for being ridiculous. I can't tell you how many things both she and her husband have written, published, etc. that are considered cult-like to the general Christian population here. If you do any research on her and her husband, you'll see what I mean. They tend to go after big-name people (such as you, since you have a large blog) and then attack them -- all to get publicity. Trust me, you are only one in a very long list of people they've done this type of thing to.

What an odd woman! What an odd family!  Those poor kids. 

(BTW, my friend Zsusie has posted a follow up note on her blog (comments closed, obviously), officially dubbing me the IVF Monster and saying that she is proud to be judgemental and blah blah. She is not terribly impressed with you either.  How old is this woman?  Five? Actually, the whole thing is getting boring now.  I think old Zsusie is a bit of an attention whore.  And so instead of clicking through to her blog, just read her response below. I'm over it now, off to drink more wine! Love you, bye!)

Apparently I am a monster, inappropriate, vulgar and a psycho

The fact that I did IVF is proof. "Their absolute selfishness is mind-boggling. Why would you kill scores and scores of babies just so you can have that token child that you want to show around so bad?"

But apparently it is not entirely my fault because I am African and like other people in Africa, "these people should be taught not to live like animals and sleep with everyone and everything that moves."

In my next life, I want to come back as good and kind and non-judgemental and Christian like, just like the lovely blogger ZSUZSANNA. I just know she is going to be rewarded in heaven one day.

Edited to add: Am not hurt or cross at all! It is so over the top, that I actually had to laugh.  I feel sorry for her too.  I suppose I should be the better person and not link to her blog.  If only I wasn't a person of such low moral character.  Tsk tsk.  Have I no shame!  I am going outside and shooting myself at dawn. It is the only way.

(for those who can't be bothered to click over to her site, read below for all the loving...)

Why children make you stupid

I wrote up a deep and meaningful post on debt relief for developing nations and Word crashed and I lost the entire farking thing so now I am sulking. I am not Word's friend.

You know how people are always saying having children makes you stupid? No? Never heard of that? You clearly have children then. Porridge brain! Anyway, I’ve discovered the reason why children make you stupid – spending too much time with them forces your brain to recalibrate down to their level. Which in my case, means I have the intellect of a 3.5 yr old. 

It is school holidays at the moment, WINTER school holidays. Which means lots of quality time together, heaven help me. I find myself cracking jokes like “you smell like a stinky old shoe” and laughing uproariously. Actually, it is quite sweet. My children have discovered jokes (albeit very bad jokes) and they think they are hilarious. “Mom, green is for stop and red is for go. HAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAA!” 

My jokes are better than theirs which gives me a certain sense of satisfaction.

I have even started to curse in three-year-old. The other day I had a bit of an altercation with a fellow driver on the road and I shook my fist at him and yelled out my window, "you silly banana, you!"  He was most offended.

Another reason why having children makes you stupid – I realized today that I haven’t listened to the news in ages. In fact, the only thing playing through my car radio is CD stuck in the player, ironically called “Car Sanity Savers”. I know every word of every song off my heart. That is not a good thing. It is not as if I can catch the news on TV because Kate controls the TV remote in our house. She can switch the radio off, switch on the TV, load a DVD and press play. All by herself. Who said TV was bad for kids!

Of course, besides making you stupid, kids always make you old, tired and poor. And yet in spite of all this, we want more! Now there is the proof right there that having children really does fry your brain. Luckily the little buggers are so damn cute ;-)

Privacy and private parts

About a year or so ago, I tried to start the conversation about private bits and privacy. I pointed at Kate’s bits and I said to her “my darling, these are your private parts and no one is allowed to touch them” Kate stuck her finger out at me and said sternly, “No mom! I is not a pirate!” at which point I thought I would delay the conversation for a few months.

A few months later, I slowly introduced the ‘no one is allowed to touch your privates’ thing again. This time they kind of got it.  Perhaps a little too keenly because every time they saw someone after that, they would instruct them in a loud voice that “YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO TOUCH MY PRIVATES”. My in laws were slightly taken aback the next time they came to visit.

A few months later we had another conversation about playing with one’s private bits. “No my darling, you mustn’t play with your private bits in the lounge, that is for private times. You can do that in your bedroom” Ok, they said, only in the bed.

Although I prefer taking a ‘head in the sand’ approach to anything horrible, I recently attended a talk about sex education for preschoolers and realized that I hadn’t done enough talking about private parts and how no one may touch them there.  I didn’t want to make a big issue about it, but I thought I would mention it when the opportunity arose.

That night they were in the bath and I pointed to Kate and said, “now remember, those are your private parts, and no one is allowed to touch them.” “Yes, that’s right,” says Kate, “they are only allowed to touch them in the bed”. AARRGGHH! I had to launch into a conversation explaining that they are allowed to touch their own privates in the privacy of their room (or bed), but no one was allowed to touch their private parts, ever.

I hate that I have to talk to my 3.5 year old kids about stuff like this. I hate that sexual perverts exist. I hate that I have to take away their innocence by introducing a topic like this, but I DO UNDERSTAND that it is important. I just wish it wasn’t so.

Anyway, privacy is a hot topic in our house at the moment. I am trying to introduce it to my children. I close the door when I am on the loo, and approximately 2,5 seconds later someone will knock on the door. Knock, knock “Can I come in?” No, I am making a poo and I need some privacy. “But I just want to tell you something”. Tell me through the door, I can hear you. “But I need to show you something”. I am yet to go to the loo without being told something or shown something. Funnily enough, they have no problem understanding the concept of privacy when they don’t want me in their room. “Go away mom, we are having some privacy”.

Now all I need is for them to understand that I need two hours of privacy on a Sunday afternoon so that I can have a nap! I think I have more chance of having a poo in peace.

Happy Families

I had to drop my car off to be serviced (AGAIN!) this morning so I thought I would take the kids with me. A little excursion. Get them out of the house and give Rose a break. Winter school holidays are BORING for everyone. 

The three of us actually love taking trips in the car. We chat about all sorts of things. Today I decided to talk about families.

I told the kids that some people have small families, perhaps only a mom and a dad and one child. Other people have big families with lots of children, like Aunty Mel and Uncle Gary and Daniel and Rebeka and Sofia. Some people, like us, have a brother and a sister and a mommy and a daddy. And some people don’t have a daddy, they just have a mommy.  “Mommy and Adam and Kate has a daddy!” interjects Adam. (Adam is very, very fond of his daddy. His first words every morning are "where's my dad?") Well, technically he is not MY daddy, but yes, we are lucky to have a daddy. 

I told the kids that some children have two mommies and no dad, and some have two daddies and two mommies. How lucky! “We only have one mommy” remarks Adam. “Ah yes,” I replied, “but you have the BEST mommy”. “Are you the BEST mommy?” asks Kate. “Yes, I am the very BEST mommy in the whole world” I confirmed. We all nod in agreement.

And then I told them that some people didn’t have any children at all.  “And then they cried?” Adam gravely asks, remembering the story I’ve told them many times about how mommy was really sad before they were born because she had no children and she used to cry but then luckily the doctor put two babies in her tummy and then she was so happy. 

Like Rosie, I told them. Rosie doesn’t have children yet, but she doesn’t cry. “Yes she does has children!” Adam rebukes. But who are her children I ask? “Adam and Kate are her children” he informs me.  I smiled. Yes my boy, you are right, Adam and Kate are her children too.

Families come in all different shapes and sizes, and we are very lucky to have each other. As we pulled into the driveway I told them that we are all family, and we love each other very much. Yes, they agreed, we certainly do. Precious moments. I'm a very lucky gal to have my beautiful happy family. 

The forces; they are against me

My sister’s youngest (the child formerly known as Fifi) is 7 months older than my two and when my two were little, she would send me a message every now and then saying something like ‘6 months is the BEST stage ever’. This went on every few months until about 18 months when she sent me a text messages saying “18 months is NOT the best stage ever”. I laughed nervously because she has been pretty spot on up until then. She was right about 18 months. She also told me that 3 is worse than 2. She was right about that as well.

My kids are being VERY, VERY annoying. Asshole’ish behaviour in the extreme. They clearly get that from their father. They don’t listen, they know better than me about everything and the two of them together are like a bloody tornado. Hard work.

This morning I sent her a text message saying “3.5 years is definitely NOT the best stage ever”.

After I sent the message, I put the phone down on the bed and went to have a shower. After I had washed my bits and put my false teeth in, I went back into my room and took the phone away from Kate, reminding her once again that MOMMY’S PHONE IS NOT A TOY! 

Pick up phone, notice strange instruction on screen.

“Please enter your new PIN”

Pardon? You must be mistaken. Enter the old PIN, the one I’ve had for FOURTEEN YEARS.

“ERROR. Please enter your new PIN”

Stupid phone. Enter old PIN.

“Too many incorrect attempts. Your SIM card has been blocked. Please contact your provider to unblock your phone”

KATE!

In the meantime, while my phone is temporarily disabled because my 3 year old had allocated a new PIN, the fraud division of my credit card company was desperately trying to get hold of me to confirm whether I had indeed just spent 7,000 bucks at an electronics store 2000 kms away from where I live. 

Some underhand lily-livered delinquent had ‘skimmed’ my credit card (I KNOW WHO YOU ARE, YOU LITTLE FUCKER!) and had used a ‘skimmed’ copy of my credit card to spend 7,000 bucks that morning. Thank goodness my bank is on the ball, but it is a huge inconvenience to me. My card has been cancelled and I have to wait five (5) working days to get a new one. I had to buy electricity online today (we have a prepaid electricity meter) and of course, no credit card! 

Of course, I have a theory who did it. It must have happened when I was in Johannesburg last week. And I think I know which slimy bastard did it. I told the bank my theory and they were markedly disinterested in my sleuthing skills. “Yes Mrs Albertyn, we will note that on your file”. Note that on my file???? Why aren’t you dashing out to arrest the bastard WHO STOLE MY MONEY! Ok, not my money as I will get it back, but he STOLE!  What is this world coming to! The culprit should be taken outside and shot at dawn!

The most annoying thing of all is that Marko can now say “I told you so”. Where as I take the ‘most people are trustworthy and divine’ approach to life, Marko takes the ‘everybody is out to get us and you should never, ever trust anyone’ approach. He breaks out into a cold sweat if he has to buy anything online and has been known to triple encrypt various bits of random information. Whereas I hand out my details with gay abandon at every opportunity. And this is how my trust is rewarded!!! This whole business is most annoying. 

And now, I really must go. I’d like to have ended on a wittier note but I am exhausted after my fun filled day and I have to be up early for my podiatrist appointment. Good night all. May the force be with you.

Clue: Two syllables, rhymes with PARKO and is another name for GIGANTIC ASSHOLE

I am not having fond thoughts about my husband at the moment. Murderous thoughts would be a better description.*

Moving along swiftly….

My feet have been really sore recently. Not being one to complain much (yeah right!) I didn’t want to say anything, what with the almost-amputated toe and all (toe is much better!). But I’ve had a lot of pain in the arches of both feet. At first I thought it had something to do with the sore toe, gangrene perhaps, or even gout, but then I read a little online and I don’t think it is that. I’ve booked an appointment for Wednesday with the podiatrist, but in the meantime I had a chat to the physio today (gawd, I am SUCH a hypochondriac! If I am not at my therapist, I am at my physio. I am pathetic).

Anyway, my physio was poking and prodding around my feet and she says she doesn’t think it is gangrene or leprosy. Or gout. She asked me a whole lot of questions about whether anything had changed recently and I said no. She then asked if I wore decent shoes and I told her that actually, I had just recently bought my first pair of proper ‘orthopaedic’ shoes. (can you spell M I D D L E  A G E D!) and she said AHA! Apparently the shoes I bought could be the cause. German shoes. Damn those Germans! Something about a high instep, made for people with flat feet (I have high arches) and hairy armpits. They are too broad for my feet etc etc. Can you believe that! I finally succumb to comfort over form (Marko is horrified that I bought granny shoes) and they make my bloody feet sore! I am such an asshole.  I know this will make my sister laugh. She likes to laugh at my misfortune. She isn't a very nice person inside. Don't be fooled by that happy-clapping, hymn-singing shit.

The worst thing is that I didn’t even buy the bloody shoes for their ‘orthopaedic’ qualities; I bought them because the colour perfectly matched with my comfy sweatpants. Life can be incredibly cruel sometimes.

*Plus he is sick at the moment.  Man Flu. An almost life-threatening debilitating affliction. Husbands are painful at the best of times. Sick husbands are like an ingrown toenail squished inside a pointy shoe worn to a cocktail party. Or like German orthopaedic shoes. PAINFUL!