Catch you on the flip side ….

We are off to Drakensberg to celebrate the wedding of John and Natalie.    We are so thrilled for them, and dead excited to be part of their wedding.

We fly to Durban in the morning.  Then we drive up to the Drakensberg (I have never been to the Drakensberg and my geography is pretty sketchy, so I am even sure I am 100% sure exactly where it is.  But Kennith seems to know and we have a GPS, so no doubt I can read my Kindle and not worry my pretty head about details like directions.)

The idea is to stay there and do what ever it is that people do in the Drakensberg, attend the fabulous wedding, and hang out with a group of friends who will be joining us there.

Next Friday we drive up to Johannesburg, and stay there a few days.  Seeing more friends and just hanging around sort of stuff.

On Sunday we get to squeeze into a stadium with a few thousand people screaming for Bono, The Edge, Adam Clayton and Larry Mullen.  Of course I am sure that Bono will stare into the crowd, and see me back in row 175 and seat 54. and pluck me from the crowd so he can sing me a personalized version of “With or Without You!”

Nothing like a bit of delusional ism to keep you going.

The thing about this trip is we are doing it sans kids.

Usually there would be a split about now in terms of reaction.

Some moms are going to go: “Fabulous, lucky you, wish I could get a break from my set!”

Then there is the second set who are dialing ChildLine as they read this and thinking: ”Who does this woman think she is abandoning her children to go gallivanting all over the country side.  The scandal.   The indignation!”

Then there is a third set which would usually gasp a bit and go: “I could never leave my junior, I couldn’t be away from them for that long.”

I usually am okay with some adult time away from our kids, but I am actually not okay with it right now.  It is also a long time.  We leave Friday and we are back Monday after next.

It is too long, and I have been stressed and anxious this entire week, and right now I actually do not want to go.  I miss Isabelle too much already and I have not even left the house, so this week is going to be torture.  I appear to have moved from the first set of moms to the third set.

I felt out of sorts yesterday, and last night and this morning I have been totally out of sorts.

I woke up around 2am this morning and just could not sleep.  I just felt anxious and stress, and wanted to wake Kennith up and tell him that I was fine to fly to the Drakensberg to attend the wedding, but then wanted to fly home, and then I would fly back to attend the concert, but I did not want to stay away that long.

But I didn’t as I knew he would probably freak his bean, and then we would have a huge fight.

It wasn’t like I had not known about this trip 4 months ago.  I had.  I just had not paid much attention to it.  But it is here now.

My bags are packed, but I am loathe to leave tomorrow morning, but there we go, I am leaving, and it is meant to be this great week, but I am dreading it.    Listen it is a great week that has been planned, and actually I have had to do nothing.  Kennith has organized everything, all I am doing is arriving, but the problem is that because I know how much I am going to miss the kids – and how bad I feel being away from them – I think will take a bit of the smile off this week.

So there we go, I am out of here for a week.  I am going to miss my kids crazy, and especially  Isabelle.  Just tying this is making me feel even sadder.

As my penance I am going for a full body wax at 7am.  I thought I would do it without taking a Syndol just as punishment for abandoning my kids.

<just as extra penance, I was so out of it this morning, I put this stuff called AO Sept – which is like acid for your contact lenses – directly into my right eye ball this morning.

It burnt like a m*therf*cker.  I can’t actually tell you how much it burnt without the aid of profanity.

I thought my cornea was being dislodged from my eyeball.  We are not talking mild discomfort, we are talking silent-scream-while-you-bang-your-feet-on-the-floor-and-claw-at-your-eyeball pain!   I actually called my optom friend because I thought clearly it would require an eyeball transplant or something.

I spent the day walking around with an eye that is so blood shot it looks like I am bleeding to death – I have just started a new job, so that looked totally fantastic.  It was agony and I was in mild to severe discomfort for the entire day.

It is still pretty red and feels pretty grim – oh joy, possibly it will hide my crying tomorrow morning…>

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What the hell is it about Mondays?

So we went cabining, which I believe is not camping.

To be honest cabining is about as close to camping as I plan to get.  The cabin’s inner walls did not go to the ceiling, so if you were frying an egg in the kitchen, you could and did have a full going conversation with the person who was using the toilet.

Georgia was also really excited that her bedroom was in the kitchen, which it was.  So really it sounds like camping to me.

But I am taking away from how incredibly good these cabins in Swellendam were.  They were placed at the foot of the Langeberg and to say it was totally exquisite, would be to do it a disservice.  You literally stood on the stoep and went “wow!”

We had a lovely little dam right in front of our cabins.  The cabins were very well organized and super clean.  The views were breath-taking and it was really divine – within 10 minutes you felt like all your worries had floated away.

Sure you then started to worry how you were going to get your wine cold while you waited for the gas fridges to cool down – but then I have a Kennith, who had stopped at the local Swellendam Drankwinkel and bought me ice, so really I had nothing to worry about.

Farmer guy gave us permission to go into the berry fields and pick berries until we puked – he did not actually say that, but I took it that it was implied.

We did – and I just want to use this opportunity to comment that child-labour is alive and flourishing in Swellendam.  Kennith paid Connor R50.00 to go and fill up a tupperware container, which by Woolworth’s prices would cost about 3 million rand to purchase in store, full of berries.

We were not given the same freedom with the pigs.  But we did eat bacon for breakfast – which was supplied by a distant cousin of the pigs we saw.  We did feel a little guilty as the pigs we saw were quite sweet.

It really was a lovely weekend and I cannot recommend  Fazenda Log Cabins more.  If you are sitting there thinking, hmm, that sounds good, then contact Ina Ross on 0724997879 or drop her an email on iross1@telkomsa.net

No, she is not paying me to punt the cabins, but they were really good, and we are definitely going to head out there again.  It is a total get away from it all.

We went along with two other bloggers and their significant others and off-spring.

It is amazing what a few bottles of wine/beer and a large fire will do to suddenly make everyone all chummy.

I think for the girls it was easier, as though we did not know each other in the biblical sense, we did feel we knew each other, so spending time together felt quite easy.  I like the part where we could just sit on the porch in silence and look out at the scenery!

The boys however did have to stand around the braai and bond over boerewors and beer, but they were fine and seemed to enjoy it as well.

Overall a really good weekend – we felt well rested and all in-tune with nature and stuff.  Kids were dirty and exhausted, which is always a sign they had a good time.

Karma has a funny way of reminding me that she is alive and rules the world – so Sunday night and Monday morning went for a bit of a crock of crap, just to show me the balance in the universe.

Georgia was on high energy the entire weekend – so she was a bit trying – which is not like her, but anyway.

She insisted on singing her school concert song pretty much the entire way on the drive back, until she fell asleep from exhaustion.  Now I am all for encouraging kids to sing and be expressive, but right now I am all concert-songed out!

When we got home to home-sweet-home, we realized how stressful it is to do house renovations, so as soon as we arrived home and started stepping over the dust and plaster, we started to feel a bit stressed.

Added to it that our DSTV was not getting a signal, and we no longer had the luxury of warm water.

Our geezer has been very temperamental of late, and right now it has decided to err on the side of no hot water.

We decided to take the kids and head out for dinner at the Spur.  Add Georgia singing the concert song again and bouncing off Spur furniture, and it was slightly less than a pleasant evening out.

We got home, threw kids into a bath – Kennith boiled pots and kettles and then kids got into bed – see we even took the camping theme home with us.

Once kids were in bed, Kennith and I sort of fell down in an exhausted heap ourselves.

Unfortunately I had a little fall on Saturday night – which I would love to blame on the copious intake of alcohol – but instead I need to blame the gravel and the combination of slip-slops and my stupidity.

I pretty much went head-over-tit with Isabelle in my arms.  My focus was on falling backwards and not forwards – so as not to damage her further.  Which I believe I did judging by my elegant landing.

My left leg however did one of those bend-out-backwards-in-a-direction-only-barbie-dolls-made-by-matel-should-be-able-to-do.  My back did appear to take the full brunt of the fall – as well as my pride.

The reason for this little sidebar story is that on Sunday I was feeling quite sore, and by  the time I crawled into bed on Sunday night I was whimpering.

I fell asleep only to be awakened by Connor screaming and apologizing simultaneously.  Like screaming like a mad man screaming!

I dashed/limped down the passage – switched on his light to find him puking giant great-dane-sized throw-up heaps of vomit (listen, there is just no polite way of putting this).  But while he is puking he is apologizing to me for puking …

I must confess had I had more time I would have found this endearing.

But he was sleeping at the top of his double bunk and thus puking off the bunk.  The chunks were splattering against the wall, as it made it’s way down to settle into his toy box!

Fantastic.

Kennith does not do puke – at all – so I knew that it would be safer to send him out of the room, else odds are I would be dealing with his puking as well.  I was sure my sense of humour was not equipped to deal with ore puke at 2am.

Connor clearly felt grim.  I can’t say at that point that I was feeling much better.

He did have a roaring temperature, so I cleaned him up, the bed up, the wall up, the toy box up, the floor up, then the side of the bucket up – I retch-retched a bit in sympathy – and then gave him some Panado, and sat with him for a bit.

Once I got the odour of I-ate-Spur-for-dinner-and-now-have-hurled-it-up-in-chunks smell off my hands, I fell into bed at about 3am, and whimpered before I fell asleep.

Isabelle woke up at 5am, and normally she goes back to sleep.  But she could clearly sense the fact that I was not having a good morning and decided to scream in that I-want-someone-to-come-get-me-out-of-my-cot-right-this-damn-minute tone. I wish I could say I ran there immediately – but I did sort of lie there for a few moments the hope that she was playing a joke and would go back to sleep.

It appears the joke was on me.  So I dragged myself through to collect her and that is pretty much when the morning got going.

Of course there was no hot water for a shower.  Every muscle in my body ached.  I was so sleep deprived that I could not actually sit up vertically.

I decided to go in to work late as my back was really killing me and I figured a two hour sleep would be just what the doctor ordered, along with two syndols and a cup of tea.

The arrival of the plumbers with the jack hammers had other ideas, and had scant regard for my need to sleep.

The thing I learnt was that sometimes you are exhausted enough to sleep through the noise of a jack hammer, but not for very long.  45 minutes seemed the maximum before I had to sort of roll myself out of bed and down the passage and attempt to colour co-ordinate my wardrobe for work.

So all in all, not a great start to the week, and easily – added to a few other issues on my Monday – I can say that this day sucked with a large fat zerbit kinda suck!