Prologue ~ The start of the trip

This trip didn’t quite start as it should’ve with warm happy fuzzies and excitement.  Instead I found myself trying to find any available energy just to remain sane, keep my head together and to put one foot in front of the other.  I hate any adventures that start like that and what ended up happening was me losing out on a lot of fun because of it.  We had an argument the night before we left, a cold one with words uttered that had me reeling and heart broken.

The day of the flight I was ignored in the coldest way possible and all because I offered him an empty bag while he was opening a really full one that was about to explode upon the floor… while he was stressed. Silly move but I at least know for next time… if there is a next time.

I haven’t had energy to blog about my trip, I’ve wanted to but my whole being was just flatter than a pancake in the pan.  Alas the pancake always rises (with the right flour of course) and I am almost back normal with a sense of humour in hand, planning on writing about all my observations in my normal way.

The funniest thing about it all though is the fact that once I got back from San Francisco I sat him down and asked him about the statements he made because they made me feel like a hired whore.  I sat and looked him in the eye and confronted, I confronted someone for the first time on something that happened without letting it get too far out of hand in my head.  I stood up for myself and stood my ground at the same time which was a huge leap for me, if you know me.

Jude and I have a new understanding, I now know where I stand with him and he with I.  He I think realises a little more that I am not like his ex wife or past girlfriend, I don’t get jealous of his affections to his kids and I don’t expect him to drop everything for me when they need him – this was his big thing.  It all takes time, for both us time will work its way.

The best part added to all of this… Littlefoot is now calling me his child minder and servant… apparently this is what he was told by the ex wife and he took it that that is what I am and will wipe his ass from here on in.  Thank God Jude stood up for me and put him in his place but dang did that bite hard.

So for the time being its one step in front of the other, constant affirmation to both myself and others of who I am and what I stand for, standing up for myself and not taking anymore shit.

Though looking back over this trip many would say it was a failure and perhaps going as far as to say it was hell I have to say it was good for my heart and soul.  I fell flat, flatter than flat, and found myself scraping myself off the floor and pulling myself towards myself.  I learnt about myself and fought off past habits of running from confrontation.  I started to breathe again and fight for my old self, resuscitation if you will.

This trip has been hell but all hell has a flip side, all bad things have a positive if we are willing to look for it, learn from it and stand up to be counted.  I am forcing myself as I have always done to find the good in the bad and there is lots of good.

I’m rebuilding, pulling all my spiritual limbs towards my spiritual body and trying to piece them all together again but in the old me style mixed with the new stronger me.

Each step backwards is two steps forwards, always has been and always will be… progress and getting stronger yet.

Coming soon… Pennsylvania, Meeting Vanessa and my experience of New Jersey and New York States… stay posted!

Houston we have a partay

… and um some news?

Well its slightly new just kept zipped lips because its confusing the hell out of me and nothing is set until we figure out this immigration law period.  Every second it changes as we learn new information but Jude and I have decided to get married.  There its out now going to crawl into my proverbial shell and rock.

Not that big of a deal which I will state over and over again until I find the courage to accept that it is not just for convenience.  Right now though it is but there are statements that both Jude and I make that belie a different story.  I’m a wimp with some things and I’m not ashamed to say it.  I mean I once had dreams of being this independent single woman and now my life is on its head (and spinning like a spinning top).

When we first started studying the law it was going to be April, then it turned to May progressing to September and now 2 years time.  The law is a bitch is all I can say.  A real big one at that.  Anyways I’ll keep you posted (cool cucumber me)

Tomorrow is Littlefoots partay at the animal farm and Belle announced this morning that after school we are baking both cookies and cupcakes but not the black ones again cause those are gross.

“Black ones?”

“Yeah those ones we backed last time that were black and gross eew” she said while pulling the all time best grossed out face

Ah the ones I forgot in the oven while hanging up the washing, wiping up spillage and sorting out another lego tantrum *environmental light bulb moment kachingaling*

My reputation for black food precedes me but I must say, just between you and me, I haven’t produced one black food item in over TWO weeks now isn’t that something to partay about?

Nope its Littlefoots party tomorrow, 20 kids now with hopefully non snotty noses and parents who aren’t scary.  I am fascinated to meet a few. 

For instance two days ago this little girl in LF’s class, little blonde thing with classes, comes up to me and stands right in my “zone” and states incredulously “Where is my invitation to LF’s parteeee”.  I politely told her that I must still speak to the father because there is limited space. Her response folks… “You bring the invite tomorrow”

Whoa this kid is only seven, I repeat, seven!!!

Next day… wait for it… she is waiting for me outside Belle’s class.  It seems she had figured out that I fetch her first and that is the best ambush location for serious attack with worded arrows.  Man they were sharp “Well… have you spokens to LF’s dad and where is my invite???” with this glaring look that even got the other mothers giggling.  *sigh* what is this child going to be like when she is a woman, I feel sorry for her partner one day… seriously now can you just imagine?

I let her get it all out of her system, admittedly I was enjoying her little mini tantrum of sorts because it made my kids seem light weights, sweet and verging on angelic in comparison.  I was grateful truly.

I paused for a few moments after the final my my my, popped open my bag and gave her the invite.  She was happy and off she went, I breathed a sigh of relief and then all the hoity toity mothers and I packed up laughing all in agreement that we felt sorry for all future boyfriends/girlfriends.  

I asked LF a bit later what is the deal with this chick and all he could stutter is that he thinks she is in love with him but he doesn’t love her.  Can’t wait to meet the brats parent and have a looksee at how they are, nightmare book material here honest!

An 8 year old with a stalker oh boy.  Worse yet he also has another girl 3 years older wanting to be boyfriend and girlfriend.  He asked if there would be kissing involved and if yes then no thanks. 

Heaven help us when these two are teenagers is all I can say.

Crunchy the worm

A couple of weeks ago the kids and I were at the bus stop on the way into town when Belle spotted a big fat earthworm.  It’s wiggles and woggles fascinated her, she hunched down and inspected it for boo boo’s, petted it and said talked to it… “Good wormy, you’re a good worm”

Littlefoot was off planning an attack in his Star Wars mind oblivious, he looked over, smiled and went back to being a Jedi (the best there ever was!).

I thought it was cute but then she picked it up and held it in her hands with the softest look on her face, you could see she immediately loved that little “living thing” as she calls them.  She then looked up at me and asked “Can I call him crunchy?”

“Crunchy?” I asked

She said “Yip, Crunchy because he is a crunchy to me”

Dumbfounded as to how she got to the name of crunchy I left it for a while as she played with her worm then asked her why the name Crunchy.  Her response was delivered in the “You must be stupid if you don’t know why”… Well folks it’s apparently because I had told her that earthworms eat sand and sand is crunchy duh!

Every time since then that we go to the bus stop she searches high and low for Crunchy and gets quite worried when he is not around.  Each time I find myself making up some fantastical story about Crunchy travelling, finding food, surfing the ocean or finding some sunshine (a rarity it seems on this island).  She seemingly and thankfully believes me. See folks… she is wanting to find him to take him home with us.

Problem is that kids remember everything you tell them and looooong ago I told her about how I had had an earthworm for a pet…

Today’s lesson … watch what you tell children because they want to do the same and what seemed cute when you’ were a kid suddenly turns into a slimy gross mess when you’re a boring adult!

This morning out of the blue she looked me in the eyes all worried and asked if Crunchy had a family.  (Having a family is a big topic in the house right now which I will get to soon).  She was worried that he was all alone with no one to care for him and that he was cold after the heavy rains last night, this wasn’t normal worry about getting shoes dirty, this was big worry verging on anxious tears.

I found myself holding her and telling her that of course Crunchy has a family, that he is probably with all of them now eating his Cornflakes just like she is dancing to “Don’t Worry Be happy” and jiggling his bum right along with the tune.  It got her laughing but she was still sceptical.

Out the door we ran (of course running slightly on time slightly late) and all I heard was “IT’S CRRRRUUUUUUNNNNNCHEEEEEE”. My first thought was that it was squished but then I heard the cry “Heeeee’s aliiiiiiiiive! and LOOK he has his family with him!!!”.  Let me just say that I was filled with relief because the images of her accidentally stepping on Crunchy did indeed run through my head and the trauma of that wouldn’t have been pretty.

Turns out we are infested with Crunchies family, they are everywhere (thank you rain) and we had to dodge them the whole way to school.  Each worm we came across got a family name, right from Great great Grandpa to Baby Fartskin, Crunchies little brother (because brothers always fart), there was even Aunty Crunchalishous (she was all pink).

Folks the highlight was of course that she named one of them after me and giggled the whole way forth to school.  I of course protested that I was not wiggly like a worm to which I got a response from both Littlefoot and Belle that my butt does wiggle and so does my tummy!

So rude! But alas … how can it not when you dance around the kitchen using a lolly pop the Universe granted her as a microphone singing …

 

A new start of sorts

I’ve been blogging now for almost a year and a half but found myself at a junction with an intense desire to kick start myself into a new direction with a bit of funk (the non smelling kind)… You know when you get so stuck in a rut that its hard to climb out of it again? Like when things get so serious that you feel like you are suffocating? Yeah that’s kinda where I got to and although its sad to say goodbye to my old alias of sorts this is something positive… this actually feels rather like the very first post I ever wrote on my original blog, all nervous like and freaky!

Chronicling the misadventures of insanity in the new life I find myself in versus the old one that tires and bores.  I was once a happy single girl that should be a lady, I acted like a stereotypical male when it came to relationships and my greatest fear was that men get attached to me and think that a fling constitutes a relationship.  This used to bother me alot and having to look them in the eyes and tell them sorry mate but it was fun… well the reactions were varied to say the least.

Lets just skip all that nitty gritty stuff and settle on the title of true bachelorette, sounds way more posh as well!  I lived my life in the way that I wanted to, ate what I wanted to, never considered ever having children, getting married was never a thought to filter through my membrane called a brain, nada… When asked I would normally just go hmm well I LOVE being single why would I give that up to wipe someone else’s ass the whole time?

My freedom was hard won and one of the things not easily given up just for a Joe.  So imagine my surprise when I go to the UK on a job and find a man I can’t resist, that challenges me and is not all  needy!  Sounds terrible doesn’t it?  Oh well moving along swiftly.  Jude and I hit it off immediately and would spend most nights talking into the early hours of the morning about everything and anything, he told me his story, about his two incredible kids and everything that goes with it.

3 weeks later it was tickets, the chemistry was so intense that I suddenly found myself in a situation I had never, could never, have imagined I would be in… a) falling for a man b) living with my partner from day one (I love living alone, freedom thing again) c) being the mother figure for two kids and d) being called Mama

In my heart I’m still a fancy free kid with big dreams wanting to play in the playground and eat cookies all day.  Now I’m in a jungle gym of life, snot, farts, burnt sausages, cuddles, snuggles, tantrums, art and more…

Right I’m going to go kill Cruella quick, she leaves Wednesday at 10.25 and then my dear friends the partay shall begin!!!

… back… she’s alive ALIVEEEE

Right so the stuff that I have emitted that shall appear upon these pages of insanity shall include things like…

• – Learning to appreciate being farted on
• – Learning to cook and ultimately burn food, it’s not as easy as it seems
• – Creating food in the shape of animals with big butts (its one of those jokes)
• – Discussing shape and sizes of boobs with a 5 year old and being groped by the 7 year old
• – Working on the kids psychological problems
• – Explaining why my butt wobbles when I walk
• – How to deal with a Naomi Campbell tantrum in the middle of a busy shop
• – Teaching a man to braai (bbq to everyone not South African
• – Learning American (apparently I talk funny and say things all wrong)
• – Walking through London with snot all over you 101

Gawd someone just let one rip again, just for a healthy note… Organic food makes you fart, no need for organic baked beans, just plain old organic will do… they’re farting like choo-choo trains and then asking me if I can smell it… how can I not is the question!

The true story of Winnie the Pooh

Because of my love for this bear I feel the need to share the true story behind his inception and how it all happened…

 

The Story

On December 24th, 1925, the London Evening News published a story by author A.A. Milne entitled The Wrong Sort of Bees. The story introduced as its main character a bear by the name of Winnie the Pooh. Unknown to anyone at the time, this short story would launch a series of Pooh stories, launching one of the most successful children’s characters of all time. Even today, over 80 years later Winnie the Pooh continues to grow in popularity.

Winnie the Real Live Bear

Long before author A.A. Milne first created his beloved character, there was a real live bear by the name of Winnie who had already won the hearts of Londoners. This black bear hailed from the wilderness of the Canadian forests, and had been on a long journey before finally coming to the London Zoo where it would first meet a young Christopher Robin Milne.

In summer of 1914 Canada was in mobilization to assist Great Britain in World War I. On one August day a train full of Canadian soldiers pulled into the station in White River, Ontario. One of the soldiers on board was a young Captain by the name of Harold Colebourn. Colebourn was a veterinarian hailing from Winnipeg, Manitoba.

While stopped in White River, Captain Colebourn came across a black bear cub. He purchased the cub for a sum of $20 and brought the animal along with him on the train ride east. The name “Winnipeg” came in homage to his hometown, although the name was quickly shortened to the more familiar “Winnie.”