Blogging, staples through balls, and other analogies …..

merry go


I am battling to blog.

It is not like I do not have a thousand thoughts running around in my head, which are screaming to get out.  I have all of that.  I have the hamster on the little wheel thing that makes that annoying squeaking sound as well.

My head is a mess right now.

I like to think that I am adaptable by nature.  I can change when shit needs changing, and I can set a new course if I have to.

But.  My anxiety and stress levels start to climb with each little adjustment I need to make.

I am best left to get on with my life with as few changes as possible, and if changes are needed, then a bit of time  between each to allow me to adjust before I make another little tweak.

I can change my course, I can set new goals, but with each amendment comes a certain level of stress and anxiety that sooner or later builds towards a bit of a cluster f&ck.

It’s really just a matter of time. As each block is added, and I do my best – my utmost – to balance it all.

It’s like playing Jenga on roller skates.  If you skate like a three year old with a broken leg.

A lot. A bit like that.

I am not going to go back and check what I last blogged about and play catch up.  Let’s just call it bygones shall we.

My rock of stability, Priv needed to leave me last month.  I managed that like a fucking demon.  I acted like it was not a problem, and I would just adjust my little sail.

Because that is me, superman without the underpants.  Or the cape.

Priv leaving was seriously an adjustment with a capital F.

I am not a fan of Christmas, especially the new version – without a husband and children.

Last year I had no idea where I was going to be and it was my turn (first turn) to have the children over Christmas, and I panicked.

Please bear in mind for the last 20 years Kennith’s family have been my family.  Long story, but my family is sort of in short supply and festivity days can be a bit like a scene from Dinner for One.

So in one foul swoop not only did I get a divorce and an ex-husband, but I managed to secure an ex-family that had been part of my life for 20 years, who now barely realise I have fallen off the side of the planet (for the most part).

There are several levels of “this fucking sucks” that I could bore you with, and I might later, so let’s take a raincheck shall we.

Last Christmas (sung to the tune of the old WHAM classic ….. I hope that sticks in your head all day now) I was a bit scared of giving the children a sucky Xmas.  I asked Kennith if he would like to take them for Christmas Day, which he did.

I swapped the day out.  I did not think ahead, I simply thought of that Christmas and what I could offer my children, and maybe also my sanity ….. and I felt it was probably better for them to be with him and his family for Christmas.

I ended up having a really lovely Christmas day at a friend of mine, but at one point I was looking out her window at the view and then I started to cry.  Not pretty tears.  Big open mouthed silent cry and shoulders heaving kind of crying that just went on forever.  Okay not actually forever, it just felt a bit like forever as I tried to do it quietly so no one else would notice.

This Christmas swung around as all Christmases do, and Kennith started talking about him having the kids for Christmas Day.  I sort of put my hand up —- tentatively —– and said “er, you had them last year, so I should have them this year…”

Kennith reminded me that I asked him to take the kids last year.

And I said, sure, but I was a bit of a fuck up last year, and I gave you the day.  Kennith has a phrase that he says which makes me want to kick him hard in the groin area (swift uppper kick, rather than a downward action) and it is “That was your choice …”

It’s the kind of thing he would say if my house burnt down and I ran in to grab the family photographs, and then complained later that I did not have a couch.  You know, because of the fire thing.

He would add a helpful observation like:  “That was your choice …”

Anyway the result is that I get 0 for 2 this year, and Kennith has the kids for Christmas Day.

To say I was a little disappointed, annoyed and frustrated does not even hint at it.  I am attempting to put on a really stiff upper lip and a vibe that I am sort of cool with this shit —- when the answer is, er, no I am not actually.

But there is nothing I can do about it.  So suck it up, and move on.

There was another issue around Christmas, that got the Christmas Day we had planned cancelled.  That was another example of me adjusting my little sail and setting a new course.  And adding some deep resentment to the picture (just when shading, not when colouring in the whole tree).

I am able to adjust — but cheese and rice the anxiety and strain starts to build without any real outlet.  I am starting to feel a bit desperate.  Possibly why I am blogging at 01h27 and not asleep.  You think?

Kennith and I are in “discussions” about the way to move forward with the house.

This requires possibly some huge huge adjustments.  Like Titanic sized adjustments and decisions.

None of them I particularly want, but I feel a bit like my balls are being stapled to a wall and I need to stop further staples being applied.

I realise I do not have balls, but it is the only analogy I have.

At the moment I feel an over riding urge to {sigh} loudly and say FUCK IT ALL – using the tune from Let it Go made popular earlier this year, but I know that my singing is going to offer one iota of a solution or relief.

As an adult you cannot slam your door and throw yourself and sulk your problems away.

You still have to get up in the morning and face some real whoppers, and make decisions you do not want to make, for results you do not want, but again …. balls stapled to a wall.

I am not heading into this festive season in a terribly festive mood.

And for that I apologise.

i hate when people

Kommin Krismis …. photographic proof …

We do a end-of-year get together with our friends for Xmas every year, it’s impossible to do an actual Xmas Day with our friends – so we aim for as close as possible.

The last few years we have given it a theme.  This year Joyce came up with “Kommin Krismis” … there were few instructions other than to “dress Kommin..” and we had to give “kommin gifts that had to be used for at least three months after Xmas and not just thrown away…”

We live in Parow, so it made sense to do it at our house … sad but true.

Kommin Krismis does leave TOO much to the imagination, and most of it bad.

I boned up by listening to “Die Antwoord” for about two months beforehand. I must confess the music video was more fashion inspiration than anything else.  I do love them.  Kennith bought a Boney M CD, we put out paper plates.  Sorted.

We decided that everyone gets to bring a cooler box and we do a braai (with the emphasis on the rrrr in braai) – Kennith and I bought a garden gnome for our Secret Santas.

I bought my full outfit at Pick ‘n Pay Clothing – bless them for a great selection on short notice.

I managed to find a racer-back sequins shirt for Isabelle with hotpants — bear in mind she is 2.  I am not sure why anyone would want a sequins racer-back shirt for a two year old and hotpants – but Pick ‘n Pay stocks it in the event that an opportunity for putting your child in sequins might occur.

Here are some pics from the day – and no I do not know what is going on in half of them …..

Kommin Krismis!

Every year we get together with our friends and have a Christmas Lunch before every zoots off to family in which ever corner of Cape Town/South Africa they go to.  Christmas days usually are family involved, so we seldom get to see our friends on the 25th.

This year we are holding Kommin Krismis at our home. It is a bit like traditional christmas, it just involves paper plates, potatoe salad and leopard print leggings, and other bad fashion decisions.

I have a particular bad pair of leopard print leggings (I purchased today specially…..) which goes with a parow-style racer back long black vest with sequence sewn in to it (also purchased specially today, I was a bit embarrassed when I had to go and pay but no one else seemed to raise an eyebrow).

For Isabelle I found a tight fitting sequence shirt, her stomach will peak out the bottom (not unlike the effect with my shirt), and I will be styling that with a pair of denim inspired jogger shorts.

Connor has a red vest and a pair of very small and tight white boxer shorts. Kennith and Connor will be wearing matching outfits.

Georgia has opted to go and sleep over at her cousin instead of exposing herself to the humilation that is Kommin Krismis.

Boney M will be rocking it from the turn table.  I am hoping we can get a bit of Die Antwoord at some point.

Our table settings involve white paper plates, white paper serviettes and a set of brown pegs – which will double as place name holders.

Kennith has bought me a 2 litre box of wine for the occassion.

Tonight is a “tjop and dop” to keep it in theme, so there will be no slaving over an eye level oven for me.  I do need to dash to make a potatoe salad.

Yes, we are truly going to be feeling our CY and Parow roots today.  So Merry Kommin Krismis everyone …. I need to find my hair spray to get my hair to work and then some blue eyeshadow to complete this outfit.  (I don’t have blue eyeshadow but I am sure I can make some with food dye and cornflour!)

I can’t promise photographs will follow, but let’s see how bad it really goes.