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Archive for the tag “Home”

MOTHERHOOD, Year 5 ( Truth or Dare)

I’ve been playing a game with my blog called “Now You See Her, Now You Don’t”. On the one hand it’s because our lives have settled like a cat on a comfy couch and on the other I feel as if I said all I wanted to say   about babyhood  with farmerboy!

Life in farmland has been toddling along comfortably with no major upheavals worth spreading the word about. Mostly.

As compulsively as I blogged about life with baby nr 1( more or less daily from when he was 19 months old till about the age of 3), so I find myself 17 months into the life of his sister not really convinced that a repeat of  solids issues/discipline issues/nappy contents issues/sleep issues/a lack of use of ears issues” is warranted.

Also, baby nr 2 has been infinitely easier right from the start. She eats, she poops, she sleeps, she giggles, she’s into hugs and kisses just like her mother. YAY!

She even kisses and hugs without me asking her first. DOUBLE YAY!!

So this “flash-in-the-pan” post is an attempt to put into words what 5 years of being a mother has been like. The truth and nothing but the truth so help me and so on. Just so that my subconscious and I can get on the same page again.


1. Farmerboy puzzles me. As he grows older he puzzles me more and more. ( he’s turning 5 on Thursday). I can never quite predict or fulfill his needs. It’s a scary place to be.

2. He is emotional to the extreme. Extreme happiness, extreme anger, extreme frustration, extreme sadness, extreme empathy. I’ve been told that he takes after me. (!) Which I denied of course. Vehemently, unequivocally and completely.

3. Babygirl and me “clicked” from the word go. I understand every single sound or gesture she makes instinctively and the 2 of us love just chilling together.

4. I love both my children. But I don’t connect with them equally.


1. I read glowing blog after glowing mommy blog after positive Facebook update after cute Twitter twitterings about the glories of motherhood. And then I think “But that’s not what it’s like, people! Get real and smell the Spur Burger for vreks sake!”

2. Sometimes I can’t wait to get a break from my own children. Sometimes I have to restrain myself from kissing the nanny when she arrives at 8h00 in the morning.

3. I feel guilty every single day of my life.

4. Sometimes when a glowing friend or celebrity or royal person declares “I’m pregnant!” I think “Hah! Just you wait Kate and Wills, just you wait!!” instead of “Oeee, congratulations! ” ( but then nannies are a given for them, aren’t they?)



That’s me for today. And tomorrow. And the day after that.

Until my children pay for my trip to Greece using their own money.

Right up until that day.

Shoot me.







An Evening In The Life Of Our Living Room Floor

Quotes are always impressive . Complicated quotes are even more impressive,  so lets start this with  one of them:

“I have always thought that one man of tolerable abilities may work great changes, and accomplish great affairs among mankind, if he first forms a good plan, and, cutting off all amusements or other employments that would divert his attention, make the execution of that same plan his sole study and business.”

– Benjamin Franklin


And now that you are suitably impressed and confused we’ll move straight onto the subject of our living room floor.

First up, the floor plan :



Our living room is where we spend our evenings as a family. BC it used to be a tranquil space with subtle yet cosy yet artsy ornaments and throws and candles and pot plants actually making a living ON THE FLOOR.

Husband sat in AREA 4 ( a chair )  and I sat in AREA 5 ( the couch ). With between us a little table where TV remotes and used toothpicks stayed where they were for weeks.  ( he likes using the same toothpick over and over to “save money”. He also breaks them in half to save even more money. Yes. I know. )

Since the birth of our children and them growing larger and larger daily I’ve had to come up with THE PLAN. ( refer back to quote above )

THE PLAN ( which has it’s roots in growing up with “Little House On The Prairie” and “The Waltons ” ) works like this :

1. Husband sits in AREA 4.

2. I sit in AREA 5.

3. Babygirl and her toys are in AREA 1. ( pink )

4. Son and his toys remain in AREA 2. ( blue )

5. AREA 3 is the fireplace and out of bounds for children.

6.AREA 6 is a no-go zone for kids. Imagine an invisible dividing line if you will. They will sense this because of where I’ve placed their respective toys.

7. The cushions and throws and blankets  in AREA 5 ( the couch) stay in place until the kids  fall asleep next to me/ on my lap.

8. No one under 5 touches the TV remotes and used toothpicks on the little table.

9. During the course of the evening the children come into AREA 4 and AREA 5 calmly and hug their parents occasionally before going back to playing contentedly in their respective areas.

10. We ( the parents) gaze lovingly upon our calm and loving and cute children every now and then before continuing watching our choice of TV programmes and reading our books.

11. When  they get sleepy the children move to the couch where they fall asleep gently and contentedly on my lap/ next to me on the couch.


This is how THE PLAN normally pans out:



More “Clash Of The Titans Ninja Warrior  Terminal Impact” than “Goodnight, JohnBoy! Goodnight, Mary Ellen…”

Kelly Corrigan

“If John Lennon was right that life is what happens when you’re making other plans, parenthood is what happens when everything is flipped over and spilling everywhere and you can’t find a towel or a sponge or your “inside” voice.”
― Kelly CorriganLift


Yip. That’s when it happens.






( No. I’m not suggesting that you “drink-and-parent” although sometimes that ice-cold white does take the edge off the lego you’ve just stepped on.)


I have several things on my parenting mind.

First thing

Two kids under the age of 5 must be the worlds’ ultimate contraceptive.  After a day spent saying “Leave-your-sister-alone-don’t-grab-her-toys-Don’t let her near-your-full-potty-call-Mommy-when-you’re-done-SHIT!!! Now-she’s-full-of-wee!!-I-TOLD-YOU-TO-CALL-ME-THE-MOMENT-YOU’RE-DONE-What? WHAT??-NOW-YOU-WANT-RICE-CRISPIES-YOU-JUST-TOLD-ME-YOU-WANTED-WEETBIX-WITH-RAISINS!! ” I’m just put off kootchie-cooing altogether. Kootchie-cooing was the thing that got me cleaning wee off a 1-year old in the first place.


Second thing

I love Nanny Nopop. I especially love her on a Monday morning when her glorious smiling face says :”Molo!” . And what I love most is her taking over nappy and bum wipe duty for a few hours each day.


Third thing

Irate children react positively to water and paint.

Water: Immerse them in it or cover a floor area of 5X5 meters with plastic and hand over a bowl to splash around with.

Paint : Cover an area of 5X5 meters with plastic. Also cover child with plastic. Hand over water based paint, paintbrush and paper.

Peace for at least 10 minutes guaranteed.

You can clean up later. ( while having a glass of ice-cold white )


Fourth thing

Children are lovely. Sometimes children are heavenly. Just-out-of-the-bath-baby-shampoo-smell-heavenly.

There’s nothing quite like a warm little body on your lap. Or a pudgy little hand around your neck. Or a wet  kiss on your cheek.

Or all of the above just before they fall asleep.

Ahhhhh….nap time. Don’t we just LOVE naptime…


Fifth thing

I love my children. Which is WHY I’m prepared to clean wee and paint and other stuff off of them.


Ice- cold white, anyone?




There was a  snail in the kitchen.  Sort of high up on the wall near one of the windows. I noticed it around Thursday. I think. And sort of subconsciously thought that it looked quite outdoorsy up there and that it’ll be good for eating little insects so one should just leave it for the sake of the cycles of nature and all that.

Apparently I was wrong. It should have been removed immediately because snails can contaminate food with their eggs ( ?) and then these eggs will find their merry way into human intestines and cause grave illness.

Well. What-do-ya-know.

And did you know that one is supposed to regularly clean the area behind the bed where your head touches the wall when you sleep? Because your head over the course of weeks causes round grease marks?

Must say it never occurred to me.

Or that  spider webs (ok,  one measly spiderweb ) should be sweeped clean away from a corner the moment you see it?  ( refer back to the little insect theory above)

Or that digging butter out of the container using a vertical scooping-ice-cream  motion is wrong? Firstly butter should be in a special butter dish and secondly the way to get a hold of it is with a butter knife used in civilized horizontal motion. Now you know.

Don’t get me wrong. My house is clean. It is artfully decorated. Eclectic.

No one goes hungry. Everybody gets fed regularly. Sometimes my son gets crackers and cheese for supper. But NOT as a general rule. He also gets 2 minute noodles, fish fingers or chicken fingers. Toast and scrambled egg. Mince. Grapes. Apples. Joghurt. Milk and cookies. He’s as healthy as can be with good teeth. The dentist said so just the other day.

But matters of the home tend to go past me.

I don’t read recipe books. Or take them to bed. Heaven forbid.

I’m not interested in the  latest steam cooker. Or any other household gadget for that matter.

In my single days I vacuumed my apartment once every 3 weeks or so.  When I could borrow a vacuum cleaner. I sprinkled baby powder on my sheets instead of forever washing them. And bought new underwear when there were no clean ones left. And cut the bottom off long t-shirts to make shorter t-shirts without putting in a hem. You just kind of s-t-r-e-t-ch the newly cut-off hem so that it curls and voila! you have a new look. ( still do this one every now and then. )

My sister-in-law gave me an apron “for when you bake” 2 years ago. It is still hanging from the same hook I disgustedly banned it to 2 years ago.

I do not bake, ok?

And I don’t walk around the farmhouse checking for snails or spider webs in corners.

I don’t bleach the dish cloths.

I don’t have a list of “things one should do in a house once a week/ month/year” in my head.

I have rotting apples in one of my fridge drawers as we speak.

Mould isn’t necessarily bad,  is it? Isn’t it used in antibiotics?

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