So Close

I couldn't make this shit up

I know every family has its crazy moments but I sometimes wonder whether my life isn't particularly crazy.  

Two weeks ago I was sitting in the waiting room at the children's extra reading classes and the ceiling fell on my head.  Just on my head.  No where else in the waiting room, but directly on my head.  Besides being damn sore, it also broke my laptop's keyboard.  Because obviously I was working on my laptop while I was waiting for them.

I've had a particularly stressful week with stuff that I can't blog about and then last night Kate tells me that water is pouring through the roof in the bathroom. I look and sure enough, there is water pouring through the light fitting.  I thought the geyser had burst and called the plumber. At 5:30pm.  The plumber arrived shortly afterwards, climbed in the roof and discovered it was not a burst geyser (yay) but instead the storm had damaged the roof and the water was pouring through the roof on to the ceiling. (Not yay).  I am waiting for the insurance company to call me back.  My brave, clever, extremely competent husband had to climb up on the roof after he got home from work, in the storm, and fix the roof.  I might have a tiny moan about how stubborn he can be now and then, but he has no equal when it comes to DIY stuff. He is clever and handsome and hard working and good with DIY and a good father and husband.  He is a hero.  I am quite fond of him.

As an aside:  If you are ever looking for excellent service from a plumber, please get hold of Drainmen (http://www.drainmen.co.za/index.php). They operate in most areas in the Western Cape and they have always been super responsive and super efficient. This is the third or fourth time I have had to call them in an emergency and they never let me down.  And to top it all, they only charged me a nominal amount for the call out.  If I wasn't so in love with my husband at the moment, I would have smooched that plumber chap last night for coming out in the storm and helping me out.

(My mother came around to visit in the midst of the ordeal last night - husband on the roof in the rain, 3x kids running aorund screaming, chasing each other, jumping up and down - and asked me if I hadn't started smoking yet, for my nerves.  I pointed to my almost empty wine glass and said "this is why I drink".)

Then, today Max and I go to the Vet shop to get dog food and Max wanted a toy, so I bought him a plastic ball that is meant for cats to play with.  As we are driving home, he tells me his fingers are stuck.  "Fingers stuck, Mama".  In the ball.  He had shoved both fingers right up to the knuckle in the little holes in the ball. I pulled over to the side of the road to try to get them out, but he said it was sore and started crying.  So I told him to wait until we got home.  

When we got home, I realized I couldn't take him out the car seat as he was strapped in and the strap went through his arms and his arms were attached to his fingers and his fingers were stuck in the damn plastic R10 cat ball.  

I went inside the house to get soap and I tried to put soap on his fingers to try and slide them out.  He screamed harder and shoved his fingers deeper in the holes.  I had visions of having to take him to the ER, still strapped into the car seat.  I ran over to one of Marko's three tool boxes (hero) and thank goodness I found a bolt cutter type of thingy at the top of one. I had to cut the plastic ball off his fingers.  Poor child was traumatised afterwards.  Party because of his ordeal and partly because I had now broken his new ball.  

Sigh.  At least I can say my life isn't boring.

 

Things to do on a quiet holiday day

1.  Build a nest on the couch in the TV room. 

2.  Watch Manchester United play a game on your Dad's new 3D Smart TV with your BFF.  And your annoying little brother who doesn't realize he is using ordinary sunglasses and not the 3D glasses

Help! Santa answer needed.

This year for the first time I am participating in the Santa Shoebox Project - a wonderful, wonderful initiative whereby children (through their parents) give a shoebox filled with goodies to a child less fortunate than themselves.  The project hopes to gift 100,000 boxes to underprivileged kids across SA.  

Each shoebox should be decorated nicely and has to contain the following items:

• Tooth paste and tooth brush
• Wash cloth and a bar of soap
• An outfit of clothing
• Something educational / for school
• A toy
• Some sweets
• And of course anything extra you choose to include

The project has a great website (http://www.santashoebox.co.za/) that tells you exactly how to pledge a box and how to pack the box.  

The website says:

Although making a box for a 3 year old girl tugs at the heartstrings, it is often our teenagers who are in most need of your act of kindness.

In our experience, the teenage boys are the very last ones to be selected off the website and in reality - they are the ones who have probably had the hardest life and never have received anything like a Santa Shoebox before. Please include them in your selection.

So obviously I had to pick three teenagers! Two boys and a girl.  

I have bought all the goodies for the boxes and the next step is to decorate the boxes, I am so excited.  I might actually do another three.  It made me so sad to think that for some children getting a gift box with tooth paste and soap was something special, but that is the reality of the extreme poverty we have in our country.  

I was telling the twins about the project and how we would each be giving a child a special gift box.  They are very aware that there are plenty of people in this country who are far less fortunate than they are. Adam in particular gets very heart-sore about the plight of the underprivileged.

I said to them "Do you know, some poor children don't even get anything for Christmas, not a single thing, which is why we are going to give something special to them".

"Why?" asks Adam.

"Why are we giving a gift box to the children?" I reply

"No, why wouldn't Father Christmas give those poor children any presents?" he says.

OMG!  Why!  Why wouldn't he?? The selfish bastard! (I am really looking quite forward to the children realizing that Father Christmas is actually me. Sans the beard but with a slightly protruding belly and a splattering of grey hair).

I was completely stumped. What answer is good enough to explain why that jolly old chap in a red suit would be such a selfish asshole as not to give a single gift to the poor children who had it so tough already.

I stuttered and stammered and the best I could do was "um, I am not actually sure, I have no idea why".  I really was at a total loss. 

Adam thought for a moment and then said "Maybe it is because they are so poor that they don't have any paper or pens and so they can't write up their letter for Father Christmas and so he doesn't know what to bring them".

I agreed with him that could be a possible reason and that I would see if I could find out more.

Help! What should I have said? What would you have said the reason was why Father Christmas would not bring a gift for the poor children?

(For now, telling him that Father Christmas isn't real isn't an option. They have so few years in which to enjoy the fantasty of Father Christmas, I want to let it last as long as I can.  Kate already came home recently and said "Mom, guess what M said in class today, she said Father Christmas doesn't exist".  I replied that people believe different things and that although M's family don't believe in Father Christmas, we do.  So the end of the fairytale is coming soon. It would be nice to get one more Christmas out of it, for their sake. Even though the whole charade is damn hard work)

PS If you can, please consider pledging a box on behalf of your children to the children who Father Christmas has forgotten.  Click over to the Santa Shoebox Project website, it is a great website (well done to whoever built it) http://www.santashoebox.co.za/ 

 

 

Adam's Christmas Order

Our fine motor skills aren't our strongest suit but we are working on it

The List

1. Trashcans (toys) in big
2. A paint ball gun with paint balls
3. A remote control car
4. Cuckoo bird
5. A Manchester United T Shirt with a 10 on it. (He absolutely adores Rooney from Man U)

The list is not finalized and additions will be made over the next few weeks. Oh goody.

PS I am looking forward to my children finding out that Father Christmas is actually Mother Tertia because according to them Father Christmas has endless supplies of money and resources and nothing is too much trouble for him.  

Let's talk about S E X

Kate is adamant she does not want to have children.  Or a husband. Firstly because she doesn't want to kiss a boy EVER (or a girl, but especially not a boy. Kissing is gross and boys are even grosser) and secondly because she doesn't want anyone to cut her tummy open to take the baby out.  I've explained to her that it isn't sore because they give you medicine to numb the pain but there is no way ON EARTH she is going to let someone cut her tummy.

After failing to convince her about the benefits of a spinal block epidural (without having to mention the injection in the back because OMG! can you imagine the shock and horror about that! The child is totally pain averse), I thought it might be time to inform her that vaginas are not just for ornamental use.  

"Well Kate, there is another way that babies come out.  Babies can also come out of one's fanny" (<-- yes, very bad - we use 'fanny' instead of vagina and 'tummy' instead of stomach.  Minus 700 parenting points)

The look on her face was priceless:  "WELL, I AM CERTAINLY NOT EVER GOING TO HAVE A BABY THEN!" she said in horror.  No amount of me explaining that it was natural and millions of women do it that way etc etc was going to convince her. The cut in the tummy was bad enough but a baby coming out your fanny..... there is just no way.  

We spoke about adoption and surrogacy but she decided that she didn't want to take a chance that she got a naughty baby like Max.  Luckily Adam is going to have plenty of children so hopefully I will have grandchildren one day.  Kate is going to live with me forever so that the two of us can be together forever.  Apparently Dad, Max and Adam can buy a house next door to the two of us and they can come visit occasionally.  

Which is a long introduction to the main point I want to discuss - when is the right age / stage to speak to my children about sex?  Between the C-sections and the IVFs, we have had no need to refer to vaginas in any other way than a passing mention or a request to wash aforementioned bits.

Kate is not particularly interested in how babies are made due to the fact that they are not scheduled to feature prominently in her future (and I am not sure she is ready to learn more right now) but Adam might be ready to learn more. He seems quite a bit more mature and I know that some of his friends have older brothers and sisters, which means they might know about sex - if not now, then soon. He also already told me that so-and-so kissed so-and-so on the lips.  (HORROR!!!!)

At the moment they know all about seeds and eggs and fertilization in petri dishes and two cell embryos dividing into four cell embryos, embryo transfer and implantation etc.  They have a very good understanding of IVF but they have no idea that some people opt for the old fashioned, retro approach of S E X when making babies.  

I don't want my children to find out about sex on the playground, or be embarrassed by their friends when hearing things at school.  I would like to be the one to tell them, but selfishly, I would prefer to delay it as far as I can, if possible. I want them to be ready to hear about sex, and I want to be the one to tell them.

When did you have the sex talk with your children? When were you told as a child? How does one tell?  I know that you only give as much information as they ask for, but at some point I need to tell them that sex involves the meeting of the penis and the vagina.  (Which is not something I am looking forward to, but not nearly as much as I am not looking forward to any mention of mom and dad's vagina and penis being involved in such meetings).  We have discussed the mechanics of conception and fertilization, our next step to talk about is sex.  Damn.  I really don't wanna.  Can't they stay innocent babies for ever??

If anyone has any good books / ideas / references, I would appreciate it.  (My kids will be 8 years old in Jan)

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

UPDATE:  When you speak, I listen.  Have ordered the following eBooks for the kids.  Will email a link to the books and tell them to read it on their iPads themselves.

Only joking.  Have ordered the books and will read through the books together. Thanks for all your suggestions, keep them coming.

Items Ordered Price 1 of: It's Not the Stork!: A Book About Girls, Boys, Babies, Bodies, Families and Friends (The Family Library) [Paperback]  By: Robie H. Harris, Michael Emberley $8.63 1 of: It's So Amazing!: A Book about Eggs, Sperm, Birth, Babies, and Families (The Family Library) [Paperback]  By: Robie H. Harris, Michael Emberley $9.17   1 of: It's Perfectly Normal: Changing Bodies, Growing Up, Sex, and Sexual Health (The Family Library) [Paperback]  By: Robie H. Harris, Michael Emberley $7.13

The best part - it didn't cost me anything!!  When I went to pay, Amazon said I had $60 credit loaded on my account - woo hoo!  I had totally forgotten about that. Old age forgetfulness FTW!

Getting the order in early

Kate has decided to get her order in to Father Christmas early this year as last year he didn't deliver on a few items on the list (mostly because they were a bit out of his budget, especially the giant owl that cost more than R600. I don't think so.)

The List:

1. Rhino Build A Bear
2. Lotso (from Toy Story 3)
3. Ant house (where ants live)
4. Spongebob
5. A mini-pool table
6. A middle-sized snake
7. Moshi Monster toy
8. 2x trash can toy packs (the big ones)
9. The stone blow-through whistle bird (a ceramic bird statue that whistles back at you when you blow at it)

Audi: vorsprung durch bloody excellent service

'They' say that for every bad service interaction customers get, they will tell 10-16 other people about their negative experience.  For every good service interaction, they might tell half as many. Well, I am so impressed by the excellent service I received from Audi today that I am telling a few thousand of my closest friends and family.

I recently got a new car, a beautiful, gorgeous new car - an Audi Q7.  I am a very lucky gal.  I am not that into cars (husband chose the car), and while I have been fortunate enough to drive some really reliable, efficient cars in the past, this is the first time I have had such a luxurious, powerful, awesome car.   I love love LOVE my new car, it drives like a dream. Because it is brand new, the children have to sit quietly with their hands in their lap and not touch a thing. And definitely no eating in the car!  Should last about a month.

This morning I got home from dropping Max off at school and as I got out the car I noticed smoke coming out the exhaust - I nearly pooped in my pants!! My heart sank.  I thought there was something serious wrong with my new baby.  

I called the closest Audi dealer and explained what happened.  The person I spoke to referred me to Audi Assist.  I spoke to a lovely lady in the Audi Assist call centre who took all my details. Within 15 minutes someone phoned me back and arranged for a technician to come out to my house to check out the car.  

Within an hour, a sweet chap called Johan had come out to my house to check out the car.  Amazingly they now 'check out the car' by plugging a laptop into the car and checking the car's onboard computer.  (for old time's sake he also checked under the hood). He was courteous, helpful and really knowledgeable. They came to my house!  Within an hour! Wow. Now that is what I call good service.

Thankfully everything was fine with my car. (There was a technical reason why the car was smoking which was related to some kind of filter / converter thingy in the engine which burns the gunk out of the fuel blah blah fishpaste). 

I was SO impressed with the service I received from Audi.  They responded to my call really quickly, they took my enquiry very seriously and they responded so quickly and efficiently.  I am really blown away.  If this is the type of service you get from Audi then I am not sure I will ever buy another make of car again.

I am really, really impressed. Well done Audi. 

PS I really love my new car. Vrooom!

FYI - Being on antidepressants does not mean you are crazy / suicidal / incompetent / dysfunctional

Gah! I know I have posted about this before but I was reminded once again how fucked people's perceptions are of those of us who are on antidepressants.  Yes, yes - I know.  ADs are over prescribed.  Yes, I also know that on the rare occasion they can be dangerous and have a worsening affect (Exhibit A - my sister). And yes, I've heard all about the excellent alternative remedies like exercise, good diet, prayer and just getting on with it.

The truth is, some of us not only benefit from ADs, we thrive on it.  It makes us better mothers / sisters / daughters / citizens / bosses / workers.  

I am an anxious person. This is partly due to genetics (both my parents are anxious people), partly due to my sensory issues (people with SPD can be prone to anxiety) and partly due to my physiological make up.  I don't suffer from panic attacks, I am not severely depressed. I have never wanted to kill myself. (Well besides the time just after my son died. Then I really did want to die but I was mentally ok enough not to do it).  But I am not a terribly nice person when I leave my anxiety untreated. I find it difficult to concentrate, to function optimally.  I am anxious, irritable, worried, stressed and generally not that pleasant to be around.  I have been formally diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD).  

I could leave the anxiety untreated, as many, many people do. I could struggle through life, living a sub-optimal life. I could cope.  But I dont want to just 'cope'. Why shouldn't I choose the best possible physical and mental health for myself? I don't want to 'cope', I want to thrive.

I have a multi pronged approach to dealing with this diagnosis which includes exercise, healthy diet, ongoing therapy sessions and antidepressants (aimed specifically at dealing with anxiety).  I choose to be on ADs.  I choose to be proactive about my life.  Without sounding conceited, I consider myself to be quite successful - I have fought a long battle with infertility, I have written a book, got an MBA, started a successful business, maintained a good marriage, invested in a good home and other assets.  I would consider myself a successful, competent, healthy person. 

But my insurance company doesn't see it that way.  Because I am on ADs (specified for anxiety), I was forced to go see my doctor to get a written report that I am not suicidal or mentally incompetent.  I have to take insurance that has a specified exclusion for death or disability for any conditions related to depression, post traumatic stress disorder, anxiety, other mental health issues.

That is such bullshit.  I get 'punished' for being proactive about my health.  For taking charge and making sure I am highly functional.  There are so many people out there who have serious problems who are too scared / tired / depressed / ignorant / poor to take charge of their mental health but they are ok to be insured.

It pisses me off.  I understand the insurance companies have a standard formula they use, but they should look at the specifics for each case. Look at me as an individual and then decide whether I am a high risk client or not.  

I hate the stigma attached to people who choose to seek out therapy or are on ADs.  I personally feel we should be applauded for taking charge of our lives, rather than considered incompetent / crazy / a risk.

I am on ADs and I am not ashamed to admit it. And just like a diabetic who needs to take insulin for the rest of their lives to be healthy, I will take my ADs for as long as I need to.  Of course I would love to be able to be 100% healthy without medication but I would rather be on ADs and healthy, and be off them and not live the best life I can. And if it means I need to stay on ADs forever, so be it.

Just because someone is on ADs doesn't mean they are crazy / suicidal / incompetent / dysfunctional. And anyway, sane and normal is so last season.  A bit of crazy makes life interesting. 

Date night: Making it easier for you

One thing that I am very VERY bad at is date night.  There are always a million reasons why date night with my husband never happens.  I'm always too tired / busy / stressed to go out. It is just so much easier and more comfortable to stay home. I love being at home. If I had my way, I would stay home ALL THE TIME. This is not something I am proud of.  

However, just because I am useless doesn't mean you need to be.  I have a special something for my blog readers on my review blog - go check it out and maybe your date night could end up being in Amsterdam!  Even I would leave my house if it meant going to Amerstam for a week.

Oh, and if you don't have a significant other, there is no reason why you can't do a date night with your BFF / sister / mother / my husband.  Check it out anway.  

PS I am going to do more and more special reviews and give aways on my review blog, so keep checking it out.  Someone has to win the prize, why not you!

Tertia's review blog:  http://www.tertia.org/reviews/