Sliced Bread

Today I brought some bread from home. At the old offices there used to be a shop nearby and here, well here we are between somewhere and nowhere and no-one cares about buying bread for lunch. The two persons who suffer the most are the cleaning lady and myself.

I have to eat something at lunch time, before I was pregnant I never used to worry about lunch and sometimes it got so busy I forgot to eat. But being pregnant also comes with a built in clock or food alarm as I call it. I have to eat otherwise I will drop dead on the spot.

So we did not have bread the whole of last week. (I guess I dropped dead 4 times last week then). This morning I brought my own bread. I don’t know why I have all these issues with food but I do.

She smiled when I handed her the 2 slices of bread and I could see she was thankful. Like me she also has a big belly to support, for a different reason.

I don’t know when I started to love bread so much. I even blog about bread.

Am I going nuts??!!..oh nuts..mmmm cashew’s my fav sbtw.

Claudia's Birth Story

I've been meaning to post this for a while...

My problems started at 27 weeks, I started bleeding and hubby rushed me to hospital only to find out that my Gynae was on leave and another dr was standing in for him. The dr examined me and said that my placenta moved and was lying underneath baby. The previous week I went for my regular scan and everything was fine. He put me on bed rest for the rest of my pregnancy. I can’t remember how many times I went to hospital between 27 and 34 weeks. The blood would dry up and when I got home the nightmare started all over again. I cried so much during those weeks, the blood was awful. When she was 2kg at 34 weeks the dr decided to do the C-sec. I was given anesthetic because she had to go to I.C.U straight away after birth.

When I woke up I was in allot of pain, but not from the cut, it felt like the dr’s made a fire inside my belly!!! The dr explained later when he cut me open he found placenta everywhere, and he had to dig for the baby. He also had another problem, my placenta grew onto my ovaries and he had to put stitches in where he cut the placenta loose, and if it did not come loose the only other alternative was to give me a hysterectomy but luckily he managed to get it loose from the ovaries.

I had to get a blood transfusion after the birth, I lost so much blood. I wish they put me in another ward, because the worst part is just laying there without my baby while the other mommies were up and breastfeeding their babies.

On the 2nd day when the catheter came out hubby brought a wheelchair and wheeled me to the I.C.U where I could go and see our baby. The sisters helped me pick her up, she had about 8 wires and pipes on her little body. (her weight fell to 1,8kg). I fell in love immediately.

For the next 2 weeks I made friends with almost all the staff in hospital. They encouraged me to eat and take a break and promised to watch her. They brought me hospital food and one lady even bought me lunch at the cafeteria one day. I was there every minute, holding and comforting her. They brought me magazines to read and gave me regular updates on my little girls well being. The only reason she couldn’t go home is she couldn’t suck on her own and we had to teach her the sucking reflex, that is when you give the baby milk and you put your finger under her chin and massage the chin area. She was a little fighter, and the day she drank all her milk she was allowed to go home.

That day couldn’t come sooner. It must have been the best news ever when the dr announced that she could go home!

The last few weeks of my pregnancy was horrible, but the reward in the end was all worth it. Today she is more precious than everything, and she will always be our miracle baby.

Humpty Dumpty..

So I carry 2 laptops, 2 oranges, my handbag and a school bag. I fall. The oranges make their way down the paving into my neighbor’s yard. Hubby comes running. Claudia stands at the bottom of the steps laughing at her mother that just pulled a circus act on her. I laugh with her; maybe it will help ease the pain on my wrist and the top of my bum that caught the step. Then he tells me to be careful. Yeah, like that is going to happen when you expect me to carry everything…anyway….

For a moment I am dizzy and shaking. What if I hurt the baby? A moment later he kicks, so casual like he did not know his mother had a great fall at the backdoor of his soon-to-be home. He kicks again just to remind me he is still there. He heard his sister laugh I figured, it always wakes him up and let him drumroll in my tummy.

I don’t bother looking for the oranges, they can stay and grow where they are for all I care. On our way to school Claudia still laughs like she can’t get over the images in her mind that she just saw.

My bum hurts, but I’m ok. Baby is ok. The whole world is ok, just for today.

Fat free? I think not

When your husband goes to the shops and you ask him to bring you Turkish delight and he returns with fat-free-energade-jellies then you have a problem. Maybe he thinks you are getting a bit f-a-t. Maybe he wants you to think that he does not know what Turkish delight is and the next best thing was fat-free-energade-jellies. Maybe he listened to every word the nurse said when she told you what not to eat to maintain a good weight. Taking your husband to a scan has its pro’s and con’s I suppose

The first time I thought it was something quick he grabbed at the check out point because he forgot to get me the Turkish delight. The second time was last night and I instantly knew there were reasons behind it. My word..I’m getting fat!! My husband seems to think so too, like the answer to my weight problems lies in those fat-free-energade-jellies.

The truth is, I need a Turkish delight when I ask for Turkish delight. If my body craved fat-free food I would have said “hey bring me some of those fat-free-jellies while you are out”. Oh, and “hey I couldn’t get enough of the fat-free-milk that I enjoy with my morning tea and cereal so I finished it all!”

I don’t need this eat-fat-free-stay-fat-free bull while I am pregnant.

I need real food.

MIL Diaries

First of all congratulations to Tammi who had her baby girl this morning, my friend I am so happy for you!! May she bring joy and love to your lives from now on.

It is D-day for me, mother-in-law moved in for 3 months I think, but not sure. She’s ok but after a day or two we start rubbing shoulders and that is where the problems starts. I thought I could spend some quality time with Claudia before the baby comes but that aint going to happen now. I can pull all my hair out for allowing all this. But you know how it goes if you squirt a word then you are the Bitch of the house.

It is my preggie hormones that I don’t trust. Maybe if it was any other time it would have been fine. We have to prepare for our boy so before and afterwards the emotions will be high, now top that off with a mother in law and you have one big disaster waiting to happen. I have tried for the last 7 months to keep myself calm and quiet. I don’t know if I will be able to control myself from today.

My bags are packed, including an extra one just in case I have to leave to go to my sisters place if push comes to shove. Yes, if it means that I have to go to my sisters for some peace and quiet then I will have to go.

I hate it when people look over my shoulder.

The start of day

My day begins at 6pm when I am wakened by a hyperactive little girl and a Cat that follows her every step. She throws her arms around my neck, and the Cat..well the Cat is there for one reason and that is food. The morning coffee arrives from hubby (sometimes I think that is the only thing his mother showed him to do). Once he tried to bake and egg and it ended up next to the Pan instead of inside.

At about half past seven the doorbell rings for a fresh visit from mother-in-law on her way to work. Sometimes she complains, sometimes she brings us the latest family gossip, sometimes she fafs about our household but I couldn’t care less that time of the morning, I have honestly learnt to switch off between half past six & seven.

Between seven and half past we dress, and it is a mission telling a 4 year old what to put on according to the weather when all she really wants to put on is Bratz, Barbie or Hannah Montannah… Yesterday we searched for the Mickey Mouse beanie, and of all the beanies in her cupboard old Mickey had to be the one…

At half past seven I drop her at school and start the worst part of my day, the 60kms to work. One and a half hours later I arrive at work if there were no accidents, but on average 3 days out of 5 there are lane closures and accidents unfortunately. Not to mention one or more of the many robots that is out.

I leave work at half past three hoping to get to school at five, and once again, if I am lucky. At the end of July I am going on pregnancy leave, and hopefully I will sort out my life at the end of this year. I hate rushing to work and back.

Dad

I don’t know what made him care less or me for that matter. Death in a family is supposed to bring people closer to each other; well it has torn us apart for many years now. Do I wish things were like they used to be? Not really, it was nothing to write home about. Maybe I have finally accepted all his faults and just see him as an ordinary person.

People have been horrible to me about this distancing from my father. I know it is my Dad, no matter what. I know his time on earth is probably shorter than mine, and when he dies and I won’t forgive myself for not talking to him it would be my issues to deal with. I dislike people who think they can carry the whole world on their shoulders, including the issues I have with my Dad.

We are both stubborn. We are both to blame.

But the damage is done. I don’t blame my Stepmom, cause every person has the right to make their own decisions about including people in their lives. Maybe one can manipulate those decisions, but in the end if you have made up your mind about someone nobody can change it.

Jasper

I used to be Supergirl and he used to be Super..something... We wrote each other every day. After school he would send his little brother with the letter he wrote in Gym class or some class where there was nothing to do. Poor thing had to do everything his big brother said, he was like the slave and we were the masters.

He wrote the most interesting letters. I used to think that he would become a writer eventually. It wasn’t necessarily letters about love, more about life and everything in it. He wrote about the way he saw the world, and his dreams and visions. We only had one class together, I think it was Maths. One day he asked me out, and I said yes. Things did not change. We were still best friends writing each other every day. Maybe I expected a little bit more, or too much.

Three months later I broke his heart when the Clown of the Matric class asked me out and I said yes. I couldn’t resist, after all it was someone I had my eye on since I entered that school. The letters stopped. He never talked to me again.

I don’t know what happened to Jasper. He left school at the end of that year. Later I heard from a friend that he went to the Technical school 13kms away.

I held on to his letters for a couple of years after that and threw it away when the time came. I haven’t spoken about him to anyone. Like everyone else he played a role in my life and I have to write something about him for old time sake

The Teacher

Don’t ask me the names of the English teachers before and after Mrs W. I will always remember her for some reason. She used to be the coolest teacher in the school. I can still remember her nickname for me, Mrs Difficult, but it had something to do with my surname and not the way I behaved. She used to have a nickname for everyone, and that was understandable coz she would remember us better that way.

She had a different style of teaching. My scores for English must have been the best of in that year of all the years I was in school. Her class must have been the only class that I paid attention in. (I daydreamed my years through school) There was just something about her that kept all of us focused. She also used to joke allot and if someone try to teach me something with humour I certainly take it in allot faster.

We were so excited when the Principal announced that she was going to join us for the 10 days of our “Veldskool’ break. She made everything so much more exciting and we all had a blast.

I saw her on facebook the other day, and I sent her a thank you note for changing my life in so many ways. Maybe she did not realize it then, but she certainly deserves the credit.

A full-of-crap-cat

Oh the Cat is funny. I bought new food for him to try out, and it turned out he did not like it at all. So he did not sit on my lap for a week. He would come and lie on the couch next to me, but there was no space for my lap in his world. I even begged him to come and lie on my lap but to no avail. It is comforting when he warms your lap with his winter fur while you watch TV. The message was clear – he did not want anything to do with me.

On Saturday we went shopping and I bought the usual brand of Cat food with some wet treats to make up for the terrible mistake I made.

Last night he was back on my lap again. Clearly I was forgiven. It’s amazing how Cats try and express themselves. They keep you guessing all the way. I guess he does not like change at all. He loves his good old brand of cat food and that is it.

I have to be tuned in to everyone’s feelings in our house. The point is, I love being a mommy whether it is to a full-of-crap ginger Cat or a know-it-all 4 year old.

Ann

In mid 2001 I moved into an upstairs room with an elderly divorced lady named Ann. She was a bit nosy and talked allot, but anything was better than staying in a place where I did not belong. In the afternoons when I returned home from work it was nice to have a little quiet time to myself. Ann had a big ginger Cat who fell in love with me immediately. Well the feeling was mutual. Cats know when you need comfort or company.

The first few weeks he phoned me everyday. You know how it is, sometimes after a relationship the “friends” part actually means “future hope” so I cut myself off completely.

Yes I was lonely at times. My sister was on the other side of the City and my parents were 200kms away in the country. But I could not go back to him just because I missed the company. I did not hate myself for giving up all I thought I had. Besides, who wanted to relocate to Germany with someone they don’t even love. Only someone with the opposite morals than me I thought..

Once I sat crying on my bed and something told me to look up. There was a shelf full of books and an old album that Ann forgot to put elsewhere when I moved in. I paged through it. There were photos of their trip to Mauritius a couple of years back - I knew that because she even saved the plain tickets. She looked so happy back then. She had a family. Her 3 boys and husband are on most of the pictures and I realized she must have been behind the camera the whole time. I could find only a few pics of them together as a family.

Ann was also alone in a way and she lost more than I did. During the 2 years that I stayed with her before I met my husband of 6 years we found comfort in each other.

In Ann found the strength to carry on. And in my journey forward I found good things.

When your child is lost

We were at the Barney show at the Dome 2008. I only turned my back for a second to put the cup in her bag. The next moment she was gone. My husband and I started shouting at each other. He blamed me, I blamed him. My whole body went limb. Where would one start searching with children running all around you, and only one of them could be yours.

We ran up and down in the isles calling her name. Every time I called her name I got a little bit sadder, and the calls for her came out more desperate. It must have been a couple of minutes that felt like hours. Lots of things went through my mind. I panicked, I cried, I trembled, I blamed myself for being so stupid to let my child out of my sight for a split second. I didn’t even listen to my husband shouting and expecting me to pull a child out of a hat.

Then I saw her running in one of the back isles entertaining the people with her smile and dance moves. I ran and I grabbed her and held her close to my chest with tears streaming down my cheeks. She didn’t understand why I behaved the way I did. He grabbed her from me. It was almost like he was going to have a hawkeye on her for the rest of the show, or for the rest of her life for that matter.

A big purple dinosaur appeared on stage, and everything I experienced during those few terrifying moments flew out the arena when he started singing:” I love you, you love me, we’re a happy family…”

The Graveyard

I don’t know what it is with me and grave yards. Whenever I visit my Mother’s grave I take time to walk down the isles and read the tombstones. My grandparents on my Mother’s side are also buried in the same graveyard, and it takes time to find their stones.

Often you see a double grave where a husband or wife has passed away, and about 4-6 months after that their better half died. Maybe they were so sad that their world came crushing down, heart broken, and they had to meet their better half in heaven shortly after that. Can you miss someone that much that you would die without them?

The saddest Tombs to read are the children’s. I also have a brother that lies in that same graveyard. He was about 2 months old when he just stopped breathing in October of 1990. My Mother never recovered after that. Children are supposed to outlive you, not the other way around. He had to die so my Mother could join him 13 years later so she could have one of her children with her in heaven.

The other day I saw a name of a young boy who I knew in high school. I realized that I have been gone so long that I missed the gossip in town about how he died. You wonder if it was an accident, or sudden illness, or a freak accident for that matter. You remember his family, and for a moment you are silent to pay some respect to someone who died so young.

You need not ask questions where you can not find answers.
Walking in a grave yard certainly makes you count your blessings.

The Old House

Whenever I dream of my childhood I always dream of the house I grew up in. I can still remember the day the moving truck pulled in front of the house in 1982, I was about 4 years old. They day I left I was 18 years old, and about 2 years after that my parents moved to another house in the same town.

When I visit my hometown I drive past it just before I take the big road to the City. The new owners cut off the big Pine with the swing where I used to spend my childhood days daydreaming. It’s just not the same without the tree. Maybe when we left the tree’s time had come too. They have no children I suppose, or all the Pine needles just made too much of a mess in their yard that they had to cut it off.

Sometimes I wish that I would find the house empty so I can peep through the windows for one last time. Maybe walk around the house and gather some long forgotten memories.

The street in front of the house has also gone quiet. We spent our weekends playing ball with the children across the street until 8pm at night. I wonder if the people in the small towns now also live in fear like we do.

Life used to be so simple back then.

The Boss

I used to rush out of his office before he could ask any questions. I only later realized that he craved for the morning company. I did not know what conversation could I possibly start with an 80 year old. Most elderly people think that you feel sorry for them that is why you start a conversation in the first place. I never knew why I had to go in half an hour before everyone else. I used to sit at my desk and try to concentrate on the day ahead.

The problem was, I had to type all the letters so I was forced to go in there up to 5 times a day, including taking the tea in the morning. He used to be brief, and I used to take notes as fast as I could so that I did not have to ask for anything twice.

He was old, but wise. He taught me new words, well words that were in his personal vocabulary that my spell check on the computer did not recognize. 3 Years ago his P.A went on holiday to Australia and I had to be his right hand for 4 weeks. What I thought was going to be a nightmare turned out to be the best time in my life for anyone I ever worked for. The first day as his P.A I brought some muffins to work and put it on the tray of morning tea. (I was so nervous the night before that I had to turn to baking).The rest I can almost say, is history.

In those 4 weeks I learnt more than the 5 years I was at the company. We laughed and chatted away, and I realized he wasn’t the old monster everyone made him out to be. He told me stories about World War 2, where he was a prisoner. I loved the stories about him skiing in Switzerland with his family when he was younger. He also had a German professor who left him with words to live by:”Nozing iz impozzible.”

He died peacefully on the 18th of January 2009. We all miss him, but it is the legacy that he left behind that we will always cherish.

He was the best Boss I ever had.