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Showing posts from October, 2013

The True Cost of our Crime

This is not an easy post for me to write. Why? Because I am so proudly South African that I could be used as a one-woman-ad-campaign for our country. But, I have come to a shocking realisation this week and it saddens me to the point of public declaration. We have a serious crime issue in South Africa. I know there are criminals everywhere; the level of violence in South Africa is one of the highest, (if not the highest?) crime rates in the world. Its sick and sad to read the papers or watch the news and see how we, as a people, disrespect on another. And I mean disrespect because I believe all crime stems from lack of education and respect for human life and dignity. We are not alone in the fact that there is crime on our streets and in our homes. You do hear of rape and murder and robberies in other countries. I have witnessed it in some of the countries I have travelled to and know people who have been victims of it too. South Africa is also not alone in the fact that we have

You know you're deprived when...

If you have kids you will understand the following scenario: taking a toddler to a birthday party and even after warning them, “Not too many sweets and cakes, dear!” your child, who is generally only allowed sweets on a Sunday, dives into the table before the party even officially begins and devours an entire Willy Wonka World’s worth of sugar. Moderation, to a three year old, is an impossibly difficult concept. Well picture the same scenario but to a Mom, on an island holiday. Moderation? Within five hundred meters of where I sit right now is an ultra-zen spa, an amazing gym, a heated pool and a three-tiered cool pool, about four different cocktail or champagne bars selling ridiculously overpriced but seriously delicious beverages, six restaurants and one incredibly lush boutique. Oh, an the most amazing coast I have ever seen beside the turquoise-est water ever. The temperature is about twenty-eight degrees. It is not humid at all. There’s a gentle breeze.

The Indignity of Motherhood/A day in the life...

As I wipe the puke up off the nursery floor, I have to wonder at the amazingly un-glamorous day I have had. There certainly isn’t much dignity in motherhood. Especially when the little ones are still incapable of telling you what their cries mean. Littlest one, for instance, decided she was over full tonight. Hence the projectile vomit, repeat bath, upholstery and floor clean. At almost eight pm. On my own while hubby entertains clients in a fancy restaurant. If I take it back to the first part of my day, I need to give you the background information that we are potty training toddler at the moment. I’m one of those “Yay!” moms. When she successfully does a poo, for instance, she is congratulated as though she had just won a medal at the Olympic games. It’s also fun in our house. When there’s a number two in the potty, I ask her to touch her toes and gently wipe her botty.  So when I got up to do my morning ablutions, my toddler was there to bear witness. I showered, and she offer

Questions I get asked as a "Newby Runner"

Some questions to a newby runner. These are questions people/friends/family have asked me over the last six months as my running journey has progressed. So I guess they're questions you've all been asked before.  Question 1. Why don't I have a running partner?  Finishing my first 5KM race with (me on the right) June Allen Well, firstly because I can't stick to a schedule at all at the moment. If someone else were relying on me for their fitness, they would still be on the couch, waiting. I run in the mornings mostly, but sometimes  at midday and sometimes just before dark. It depends on the kids and the day or night I've had. But generally I aim to go every second day, or at least three times a week. But sometimes that means three days in succession and some weeks that means Monday, Friday and Saturday. Or whatever.  But I do have a race partner, who is training in her own time but at more or less the same pace. She has a day job and a kid. I have the two kids. Plus

A Generation Z "To-Do-List..."

We are making a lot of mistakes at the moment. And when I say ‘we’ I mean humanity; when I say ‘at the moment,’ I mean over the last century or so. This got me thinking, as things often do, of how it will be for my girls, when they grow up. I decided to jot down a few ideas of things I hope they get right. I'm no historian or anthropologist – so excuse any generalisations under the knowledge of that fact. I am, however, one who reads a tremendous amount of information and sometimes correlate said information in an accurate manner. I hope I get some of this right then. I've mentioned before that a stay-at-home-mom is a new/modern profession. The forerunners to our generations of female care-givers were all workers. They were the other half of the hunter/gatherer partnership. So the first thing I would like to see the next generation get right is instilling a sense of worth in those who make the sacrifice to stay at home. Again, at a work function last night, guests, particu

That's Life

I have a family member gravely ill at the moment. And I don't mean minor grave, I mean seriously gravely ill. He's a dear uncle and is closer to eighty than seventy years old. He's been ill for a long time and the mixture of feelings is immense. Half of the prayers that go up to heaven are that he recovers from this particularly painful cancer attack; the other half are that he goes peacefully and that the pain will end. Sadly, he will leave my aunt a widow. And my cousin will lose her step dad. When I went earlier this week to see him, those were the thoughts that drove me to tears: husband, step-father. Seeing someone ill, as difficult as it is, is one thing. Knowing that they may be on their last innings, is another. My cousin flew out from the States, which meant twenty four hours in transit and when she called the day before she left, she kept saying, "Just tell him to hold on, I'm coming." If there is a chance to say a proper goodbye, we all want to take

All this free time...

I had five hours to myself with baby today. Hubby saw the desperate look on my face when I got out of bed at 8am after having being woken every hour and a half for a feed or teething gel and I think he saw that I needed a break. So he did his favourite thing, he visited family and was kind enough to take toddler along with him. Five hours. I am sure some of you are feeling little daggers of envy right now, because it seems like an ideal few of us have the luxury of ever receiving. Add to this the fact that for the last month I've had an average of seven builders on site around my house banging on a new roof and swishing on some new paint. And I still have a month of that to look forward to. So the private time, albeit with baby, was something to cherish. Here’s how I guess you think it went... Baby had a nap for the first hour or so. Then she woke up happy to have some playtime with mommy followed by a yummy lunch. Thereafter we took a walk in the garden and laughed at the dog

Apples and Pears

Comparing two kids really is like comparing apples and pears. Chalk and cheese. Blue and orange. I mean, in my own home, I have two spawn - each grown in my very own womb, each fathered by the very same man. They couldn't be more different. And I know baby is only (barely) eight months old and the similarities may start coming fast and furiously soon, but at the moment, I am not even talking about their personalities. Toddler cut her first tooth at thirteen months, baby at seven. Toddler was a skinny, petite little babe, Baby is strong, a.k.a chubby. Toddler needs a minute or ten when she wakes up before she smiles, Baby wakes up smiling. Toddler has yet to sleep through, Baby has a bad night when she wakes merely once. Same input, totally different outcome. And then we mothers start comparing our children of similar ages to their peers. you know the drill, "What? Your baby is crawling already?" or "Oh? Your baby can count to twenty at two years old, well mine can si

When did thighs become so undesirable?

I went swimming costume shopping today. We're scheduled for a trip at the end of the month and I will be expected to be in a bathing suit day in and day out for a week. This I can do. I stopped wearing a bikini when I hit puberty, not for the reasons you may expect, but I hated the sensation of a sunburnt belly - so I chose a full suit. Like all women over a certain age, I have plenty of hang-ups about my body. There's that Dove soap ad on television at the moment where they interview women about their bodies and it takes an average of two seconds for them to name something they don't like but an average of "a lot, lot longer" to name something they do. The final caption of the advert is something like "If we can see the beauty I'm other women, surely they should see it too?" Or maybe that was the follow on ad, I'm not sure.  See the Dove ad I'm writing about here. This is sadly indicative of the female condition. I am still not sure why, of

My Novel Debut

I've written a book. For those of you who haven’t seen me punting it on Facebook, you can find it here: Worth Waiting For - Carrie Goodwin . It’s a scary thing, putting your name to print and setting it free to public observation. It would be really scary if it were 100% fiction. But this book is only about 75% fiction, which makes the 25% that’s loosely based on facts rather precious to me. So lets take it back a few steps. I started writing the manuscript sometime during 2009. I was feeling pretty crappy about certain aspects of my life and so I guess it was escapism at its best. I also had a really vivid dream, which gave me about a third of the mid-section of the storyline. This all culminated in a ‘novel’ of about a hundred and twenty pages finished a year later. I then gave it all some thought and decided to rewrite it and flesh out the entire thing. A friend also told me that the characters needed to be built up a little. This took another year or so. By May 2012, I was