CINDERELLA TRIPPIN'

….let there be shopping….

Archive for the tag “life”

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.

TRUTHS:

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.

DARES:

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?)

 

There.

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.

 

 

 

 

 

THE PIANO


A piece of me came home on Friday.

It’s the black upright Yamaha piano my parents purchased in the 80’s when  my mom still believed me and sis nr 2 would become concert pianists. We used it to practise endless Mozart and Beethoven and Haydn piano concertos. ( Piano concertos are meant for a solo pianist and an orchestra but for practise purposes the orchestra part is written as a second piano part).

Sis nr 2 did end up with a BMus ( Hons) degree and Performers Licentiate in piano. None of which she is using in her career as an IT specialist…

I ended up with a Performers Licentiate in organ. Which I am not using in my career as farmer’s wife and mother-of-two under the age of 5….

To make a long story short-ish, there always were 3 pianos in our small family. ( My dad is an only child and my mom only had one sister.)

My aunt and uncle bought themselves a baby grand piano in the 70’s. My parents bought their baby grand Yamaha in the late 60’s and then the upright in the 80’s.

When my aunt and uncle sold their house  and moved into a smaller place after their kids left home , they no longer had room for their piano and my parents “exchanged” our upright for their baby grand. Which went to my fourth sister when she got married while second sis inherited our baby grand.

A few months ago I had a call from my aunt saying that they are now moving into a retirement home and are looking for a buyer for the upright and were we interested?

Farmerhusband said what he always says ( “wait for the woolcheque” ) and luckily we had a good year so the deal was done.

And now it’s back!

A big part of my history right here in my sittingroom!

What pure  joy! Since Friday I’ve been “entertaining” the family with Chopin, cheezy love songs from the 90’s ( My Heart Will Go ohhoooooohn…….) and some heavy Russian nostalgic preludes. ( which competed with the rugby in the TV room next door so the door between me and the game was ever-so-quietly shut by my musical-as-a-brick husband..)

But no matter.

I married a man that values my past and that appreciates my history with music.

I can teach my children to listen and to play themselves should they be so inclined.

( and I’m still determined to teach the farmer to play “Mary Had a Little Lamb”….if you can count to three and back again, ANYONE can play “Mary Had a Little Lamb” ! )

And so our lives evolve and the circles of our seperate memories meet  into a whole new place of new possibilities…

May there always be music in this house.

“I have my own particular sorrows, loves, delights; and you have yours. But sorrow, gladness, yearning, hope, love, belong to all of us, in all times and in all places. Music is the only means whereby we feel these emotions in their universality.” -H. A. Overstreet

Perspective, Priorities,Prestik and Poo


In all honesty I’m not one to “take a deep breath and smell the roses”.

The words “settled ” and “routine” give me an intense urge to run. ( which is probably why I broke off my engagement to the farmer the first time and we ended up getting engaged twice. Having 2 rings was nice though… )

I tend to mentally tick things off and then look for “THE NEXT BIG THING”. Always looking for more, more, MORE…..surely there must be MORE???

So that up to now my life plan has progressed more or less  like this:

1. Get a degree. ( tick )

2. Get a job. ( tick )

3. Get thin. ( tick )

4. Find a husband ( tick )

5. Have a baby (tick)

5. Have a GIRL baby ( tick….lucky lucky lucky me! )

6. Study Journalism. ( tick )

7. Try to get into freelance writing. ( tick. sort of. )

8. Heck, why work for money when I could win the lotto? Or a huge Jackpot somewhere? And then we could go on luxury family holidays every 3 months and leave the farming stress behind us and I could spend weekends at a spa and have regular manicures and pedicures and hair extensions and who knows, maybe even a tummy tuck ??? ( tick for trying and not succeeding, who knew? )

Before you call the shallow police…I do sense the error of my shallow ways…

I had 2 sick children this week and 1 husband with the man flu.

Poo and puke has filled my days. Sticky hands and smelly feverish breaths through sleepless nights with worry knotting my stomach.

And oh, the relief to see they’re on the mend…to see the smiles return and the gradual brightening of the eyes…

Who needs the Lotto when you can have a slurpy wet kiss from your 14 month old daughter while your 4 year old son stands on your big toe with his leather shoe to also get in on the action?

There’s nothing like motherhood to keep your feet on the ground, stretch your coping mechanisms like Prestik  and turn your heart inside out is there?

EXCLUSIVE BROEKS and the DANCING GRANDMA


Some days are diamonds……some days are…..well….just NOT.

My grandmother on my mother’s side used to insist on dancing at weddings. She wasn’t used to drinking any alcohol and usually downed her glass ( or 3 ) of champagne in a few gulps. Then she would grab one of her son-in-laws by the arm and force them onto the dance floor. Where she would stay until she was all danced out…

I love dancing too.

I probably look like the dying swan from Swan Lake having an attack of the arm jerks. And I have noticed people sort of avoiding my eyes while I’m at it…but give me an inspirational beat and a few glasses of Chardonnay and I’m off ….( second post in a row mentioning alcohol….first flying and now dancing….worrying trend I’m picking up …)

Anythehow.

Onto the “Exclusive Broeks”.

I’ve recently come across a mailing service called “The Secret Letter”. You send them your bikini bottom size and they send you a pair of lace/ satin/ lace-and-satin-with-a-red-polka-dot -ribbon G-string once a month in an envelope.

Point nr 1 : I am too old to wear polka dot ribbons anywhere near my behind

Point nr 2 : My behind is w-aaaaaa—yyyyyyyyyy to big  to put into any type of bikini.

Point nr 3 : G-strings are torturous. I wore one on my wedding night and I still have it but I’m never putting it on again. EVER.

Point nr 4 : Some mail services are ridiculous.

Point nr 5: If I’m thinking that “The Secret Letter ” is a  ridiculous concept,  does it mean I’m getting old ?

Point nr 6 : Am I too old to insist on dancing when a beat inspires me???

Point nr 7 : Point nr 7 depresses me.

Point nr 8 : Sometimes I miss being 20 something. Being someone’s potential wife but not quite there yet.  I miss ….how can I put this….feeling desired.I miss someone REALLY LOOKING AT ME and not seeing someone’s wife and someone’s mother who shouldn’t be dancing in public. ( yes yes yes I’m happily married and totally in love with my children ). But still…

Anyone out there relate?

 

 

 

 

 

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