Imaginary conversations & 12 weeks to go...

I have imaginary conversations... Mostly when I'm angry with someone. I answer for them, and get angrier at "their" responses. This is really irritating me. A good friend once called me "unconfrontational" (which actually surprised me, cos I thought I was. Maybe it's relative...), and perhaps it's this. I WANT to confront the situation, but don't really. I don't want to make the situation worse. And I don't want to be wrong. (I know this is criptic, but it's bugging me today, so thought I'd get it down.) Any advices?
I remember once being so angry with Gareth after a bad dream. It's similar, isn't it? It's like I want to say (to myself): "It's just a movie, it's not real life. Get over it."

Only other revelation today: I AM 28 WEEKS PREGNANT. Can you believe it? Only 12 weeks to go. The thought/realisation got me in a spin... So much to do (get nursery ready, check clothes, sleep...)

Ode to Ali

My friend, Ali... That sounds nice. She's a really special person. She happens to be a favourite of the boys too, being their teacher (and all). Some things I really like about her:
1. She accepts compliments. Says "thank you" in a way that compliments you straight back. I don't know many people like this. We tend to say "aagch, it's nothing", or "oh, that old thing" or "I just threw it together"... She just says "thank you." I noticed on the weekend, that her daughter Sarah says it too. What a great thing to inherit.
2. She looks you directly in the eyes whenever you talk to her. Pays attention. There could be a world war happening, and she'd look you right in the eyes when you say something. It makes you feel important.
3. She's so calm. She has 15 screaming-with-excitement toddlers running around her, and she's just so calm. Like the eye of a storm.
4. She has a great sense of humour. I love it when she laughs.
5. She's just taken in a little baby boy (3 months old). Her house is now a "place of safety" for the tike (for 6 months, while the "state" finds him an adoptive family). She's absolutely fallen for him, and he's just so cute. His "new" name is Benjamin. Pictures to follow.
6. She's a great scrapbooker (and scrapbook teacher), but still asks my advice about things. And uses my ideas. That makes me feel VERY important.
Ali, I feel privileged to be friends with you.

Edited: to fix a typo. Am I a prefectionist because I'm a Virgo? Or do I just get a double-dose?
Edited again: to fix a punctuation error. This is verging on ridiculous.

Super-Dad

G got up this morning to Matthew's usual moaning (he wakes with a grumble, Tim with a smile, usually), went into their room, explained he was going to make them milky-cups, could they wait? They quietened down & waited in their cots for him to come. Which meant we could have our coffee/tea in bed in peace. Now, if I'd tried that, all hell would have broken loose. As soon as I walk in the room, it's "Matthew go to mommy" and "Tim-o get out" in unison and loudly, with tears if I don't do it quick enough. Gareth is just amazing. Then while I was in the shower, he read them the "sizes" book (he's on holiday, hence the face-fur).

*
Other news from this morning is... weevils. I made porridge (oats, hot porridge, how saintly is that?) and I thought maybe I'd bought a whole-wheat version of Jungle Oats (I know, DUH!) I even checked the box, twice. After one spoonful, I went downstairs to get G to check whether the oats were healthy with seeds or weevils. Weevils they was. (OK, I'm not blonde, but I am pregnant & didn't have my glasses on. OK, and sometimes a little dizzy, too.)
* I know. Not great pics. But my ZoomBrowser isn't editing pics (for some unknown-to-me reason). And they took reading-5-other-blogs time to upload. So be grateful.

Hamburg

Went to Hamburg for the weekend (& a day) with Ali & John. Great spot - the hotel's subdivided its units & sold them off. We stayed in Ali's brother's unit (next to theirs). Ali & John are good people. Boys were not themselves (sores in their mouths & running temps) and didn't sleep well at all. G & John got to sail on his hobycat. Boys were a handful - G can get a hobycat when he gets me an aupair. No photos, cos when I didn't have a boy (or two) hanging onto me, I was asleep. The latter was about 1% of the former.
G dropped me off at work this morning (left Hamburg at 6.38) and the boys cried. I told them I have to go to work so I can buy them nice things (other reason, this not the most important!! sanity, is probably, top of list). "What nice things?" G asks. I say "a boat" at the same time as Timothy says "smarties". Life is simple when you're 2.
Did some scrapbooking (with a boy asleep at my feet, the other in G's bed with him). Will finish off & post results. One of these days.
Oh, and Kath's fundraising event (cocktail evening - do what you're good at) was a resounding success. She made R10,000 for a Khayalitsha women's charity.

Interact, marriage and wild rats

“I've learned that people will forget what you said,
people will forget what you did,
but people will never forget how you made them feel."*

Last night I was the "guest speaker" at the Interact Induction Dinner... Strange to be back in that 'hood (not just as Mr Van's wife). I was amazed at how giggly the girls were, and how they wear such revealing outfits to a school function (I'm really getting older). But heart warming, such great kids. And G saying there's so few of them. I spoke around something like "it's not what you give, but how you give it", won't bore you with the details. Bebe #3 kicked almost the whole evening... wondered if anyone aside from me noticed!

On the way home, G & I talked about how great our marriage is and how much we appreciate each other. G said that as he's got to know me, that he sees me as both "stronger and weaker" than he thought (back in the good ole days at Rhodes). Profound. We talked about divorce (good friend of mine in CT considering it) and how it affects the kids - is it worse to have single (but comparatively happier) parents or to witness a loveless marriage? We talked about the importance of not letting a marriage get to that stage, about keeping the spark...

Weekend news: Kath's hosting a charity event in Perth... raising money for a women's shelter in Khayalitsha. We're going to Hamburg with Ali (boys' teacher) and John and kids. Mom's gone to Stellenbosch to visit Gerry Nicol (annual pilgrimage). And I think Emma's praying for surf & recovering from a rather hectically-social week.

Oh, and Matt says he's a capyvara** [sic] - a BIG WILD rat in the Ambazon [sic] Jungle. He got that right. Asking him further in the car this morning.... Dad's a spider monkey, Mom's a tiger (insert mom & dad's knowing *giggle* here) and Tim's a jaguar. Hmmmm. Wisdom at such a young age.

* Maya Angelou
** cap·y·ba·ra (kp-bär, -br)n. A large semiaquatic rodent (Hydrochoerus hydrochaeris) of tropical South America, having short limbs and a vestigial tail and often attaining lengths of more than 1.2 meters (4 feet). (Mom learns these things daily!)

One of those mornings

I'm having one of those mornings... You know the ones: load-your-kids-in-the-car-and-drive-as-far-as-a-full-tank-of-petrol-allows morning. It's the realisation/confirmation that you no longer are the only influence on your kids' lives, that they now are subjected to a myriad of "rules", not just yours (which are flawless, of course). Childcare is such a hard thing to adjust to. How can I feel both grateful and resentful at the same time? They don't prepare you for this in ante-natal classes (NtS: write letter to St Doms Babes & suggest it).

"Parenting is like building a boat when you're already at sea"*. That just doesn't suit my Virgo nature. I've supposed to have built the boat, written an understandable manual that's easy to reference, charted the course, chosen the crew and packed nutritious snacks.

Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out. I can do this.

* From a great book called "I Don't Know How She Does It." Can't remember the author. If you're a payroll-SHE (or married to one), read it.

Grateful

I traveled to Umtata yesterday for a meeting... Things are hotting up on the work front, just in time for me to go on maternity leave (Sept)!! We saw 2 horrific accidents - it was raining, that strange, unseasonal winter rain. And motorists weren't paying attention, clearly. In those two accidents, a total of 12 people were killed (according to radio algoa). Now, those of you who know me, know that I just don't do "bad news". Like, just don't tell me. Especially not the details. So if you're one of those too, then sorry, but I just had to get this down.
I'm grateful:
- that I don't have to rely on African public transport
- that I don't ever have to get a lift in the back of a bakkie
- that I have enough money to replace my tyres well before they get dangerously smooth
- that I have a choice of who I travel with
- that my children always travel with responsible adults
There, I said it. Didn't mean to get all serious on you all, but there it is. Most of you reading this don't live in Africa anymore/at the moment... so send a thought / prayer.

Brighter news... I'm going to post some pics of my little sister, Kitty. Soon. Well, as soon as she sends me some pics!! She's gorgeous. And taken. But watch this space, anyhow. Oh, and I promised a few peeps that a pic of my bump (aka belly) will also feature. Just have to pluck up the courage to take the photo. Aaarrrgh.

Q - How much does your mommy love you? A - This much

A gorgeous boy

a>

Hogsback and Bram Fischer

Back from a beautiful weekend in Hogsback. The weather was simply stunning (alas, no snow) and the cold nights and mornings demanded fires. We obliged. Matthew didn't sleep well, which was to be expected, but we laudably didn't resort to drugs. Well, I would have, but I'm pregnant.
We (Mom & I, mostly) went of a search to discover who Monica Wilson was (referred to by colleague in the Jhb office, whose house it is, as "the mother-in-law"). We found her grave (Monica Hunter Wilson, died 1982) in a forest of not-yet-flowering azaleas, and made up stories about her being the daughter of a missionary (grave Hunter found). She must have inherited the estate (Hunterstoune - can't remember how to spell it) from her father (a grave of an "only son, died at age 6" was also discovered).
But, on inspection of Ilse's (aforementioned colleague & owner of house) books, looking for Monica-penned books, we discover a biography of Bram Fischer ("beautifully written, haven't found any mistakes" - Mom) with an inscription to Ilse from the author. "In your honour" said the inscription. Mom reads and discovers that ILSE IS BRAM FISCHER'S DAUGHTER. My word. Now we're riveted to every detail of the house, the daughter of a political icon OWNS it. Mom says, in hushed awed tone, "I'm cooking onions in BRAM FISCHER'S daughter's broken frying pan, in BRAM FISCHER'S daughter's house." I now have further respect for this lovely woman (Ilse, but mom as well). I have been working with her for nearly 6 years, and have never come across this fact. I remember telling people that she's "liberal, in a non-aggressive sort of way." For those who need a little more information on Bram Fischer: http://www.sahistory.org.za/pages/people/fischer,b.htm
Now, the challenge is to deal with this without becoming gushy and emotional. She obviously has. I think I'll have to call her nothing for a while, like you do when parents of a friend tell you not to call them Mr So-n-So, but by their first names.

10 Ways to Ensure Your Tele-Marketing Me Won't Work

1. Call me at work
I hate that. I don't need to be tele-marketed at work. I enough stuff to do here. I need to use these precious hours to read my latest emails, all my favourite blogs and update mine. If you have my work number, you probably have my cell number and my home number. Try one of those. It's easier for me to brush you off.
2. Get my name wrong
You got my info from my bank, you even said so. Surely if anyone knows my name, it's my bank. For heaven's sake, I've just gone through that FICA stuff with them.
3. Continue to get my name wrong
Once I've corrected you, you must keep both pronouncing it wrong and getting it completely wrong.
4. Call me ma'am
How do you know I'm a ma'am. That wasn't in my banking details. Besides, it's something I'd rather keep quiet. For now.
5. Play background music
of the chitter-chatter of ten thousand other tele-marketers tele-marketeering. I can't concentrate on what you're saying. I just think about you blighters in a huge space with too little air and too much noise. How can you work in that environment? Must check if that's legal on the SA Labour Law site. Oh, it's about competition, is it. Ok, that's different.
6. Give me too little information
Tell me the benefits. All the benefits. Of all the different schemes. But don't tell me the premium. That's cheating. Wait for me to ask. And then be deliberately vague.
7. Give me too much information
See above.
8. Give the "this call is recorded for your safety" line
Why? If it wasn't, would I be in grave danger? Perhaps I should take your death-benefit insurance after all.
9. Give me option to sign up over the phone.
I just know there's something fishy about this if you want me to make an impulse decision. I prefer the line of "take a few days to think it over, consider your finances and check your other policies for duplication"
10. Tell me if I make this decision now, over the phone, I'll be covered if I die before the phonecall is over
I'm not in the mood to consider my mortality now, this minute. And gets me thinking again of item 8. Is there something you're not telling me (besides the premium)?

You guessed it, I got tele-marketed. This morning. 5 minutes before I was due to fetch the boys. I gave them the most reliable let-down line... "I'll talk it through with my husband. He wouldn't want me to make this kind of decision on my own." It's my favourite. Never mind that G trusts me entirely with such life & death decisions.

"terrible lizard"

We're going to Hogsback this weekend (long weekend, tomorrow's Youth Day & schools are off Friday), but the cutest is Matt says "we're going to Hogsback". Then "see dinosaurs" (huh?) Well, you see, Ali (teacher/SBing friend) told the boys they were going to see waterfalls in Hogsback, and on the same day, they watched a video on dinosaurs (their current theme), and saw a waterfall. So when you're two, two & two makes... So I'm trying to explain that dinosaurs lived long ago, and now we only see them in books (and on the TV, Matt informs me, of course). Amazing. Oh, and he told me that dinosaurs are "terrible lizards". "Well," I said, "I suppose they are." Until G said that's what "dinosaur" means. Blimey. He's only two. "He's just a boy" -Peach (Finding-Nemo-quote alert).
Oh, and other things we're going to see in Hogsback, according to Matt (Tim has been decidedly mum about it, perhaps he's considering what he'll do when he sees a T Rex), are birds ("LOTS of birds"), dogs ("big big huge dogs") and rabbits. And he's going to "find Dad in the forest" (hide-and-seek). I'm thinking about the "huge dogs", and wondering if he remembers last year at Hogsback - he met a v big dog (well, big, if you're just 20 inches tall) called "Bear" (which is pretty confusing), who nuzzled him and gave him a big fright. I wouldn't be surprised if he remembers that.
Oh, and more news... Matt's in love, with Camille. Told us. Said "Matthew loves Camille". When we ask why, the answers range from "going to France" (good enough reason - she's French & her mom has a "summerhouse" in France), to "she's precious". I said to G that he loves everything, but on testing it (with the wild animals book), he LIKES those things. He just loves Camille (& occasionally mom & dad).
Emma may be going to Taiwan. Well, she IS, in all likelyhood. We're going to have to have a "clothes-rendering-farewell" party. I think I can drink champagne (commiserate, not celebrate)... or is that when I'm breastfeeding? I forget.

testing testing

Just testing out this email-to-blog thing, cos if it works, hey, less time
wasted, ne? Still no can do with "hello". It's not responding on my work PC.
Maybe something to do with the proxy server? Will check it out at home.
Found the Adlards' blog. So cool. Check it out: www.adlards.com Wonder if
you're "allowed" to do that? I'm sure.
Later
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No virus found in this outgoing message.
Checked by AVG Anti-Virus.
Version: 7.0.323 / Virus Database: 267.6.6 - Release Date: 05/06/08

when your belly's bigger than your b**bs

you know you're pregnant...

Strange, I feel like I've been hiding this pregnancy for too long. It's unmistakeable now. Em even said "it's the biggest belly" to me this morning. Why hiding? Perhaps cos I don't want attention, perhsps cos I don't want people to say "you're mad, you've already got twins", perhaps out of habit - hiding at work cos of a stupid September contract deadline, which has been extended to April anyway. Silly. Seriously, now, I'M PREGNANT. And 6 months, at that... almost to the day. Babe #3 is due 16th Sept.

Still struggling with hello... I'll get to the bottom of this, I swear. And share some photos.

So where's your blog?

DH says, while getting irritated trying to read with CNN's report on "Blogging", where's your blog? And I say, "well, I've lost interest". And to tell you the truth, I had. Mostly cos I didn't have any comments (Sean? Kath?), and also cos I didn't manage to post any pictures. Perhaps I revive it, huh? And make it less of a tome to read?
Here goes.
Now I try to figure out how to use "hello" to post pictures...