Living Life Simply

Without denying the absolute need for technology (obsessed as I am with it!), life has become so fast paced, so driven by 2D, 3D and HD images, that as a mom I am scared we are forgetting about the simple, soul-enriching, memory-creating things in life.

My kids are (as are all, or at least most kids today), hooked on technology. They know more about my blackberry, my ipad, and Google, than I do. This fact alone scares me, as I am a self-confessed techno-slut! They play Wii, X-Box, and PlayStation as effortlessly as we used to play snap! or tag as kids. They don't need to read the instructions, or have the intricacies of the game explained to them. They just seem to innately know that pressing A makes the unbelievably life-like army dude run, B makes him shoot a machine gun, and C makes him launch grenades! Within minutes they have figured out the cheat codes on Moshi Monsters, have created new villages in Ice Age, have harvested new crops on Smurfs, and have completely killed my painstakingly cultivated high score in Temple Run. All without laborious instruction or tutoring!! As impressive as this sounds, and not withstanding the mental skills I am sure they have gained and fine tuned, I fear for my kids appreciation of the important, tangible things in life. 

Recently reality bit. And bit hard.  We went away with very close friends to Kamberg, and stayed at a beautiful, old-style farm. Barely any cell phone signal, a TV - but no DSTV card, so it remained off, no DS's, no Wii, X-Box or PlayStation. I held my breath the whole weekend, waiting for the inevitable "I'm bored" (which seems to have become my kids' shared middle name at the moment!). But it never came. Instead they played. They built puzzles, they explored, they canoed, they played cricket, swam, rode horses, rode bikes, and they laughed. Most surprisingly, they listened (a skill which seems to have become purposefully lost lately!). We bought them all fishing rods - simple, inexpensive fishing rods. And from day one, they fished. After the first fish had been caught, proving it could be done, we lost our kids to the edge of the dam. Hour after hour they sat together, patiently (who knew they had it in them!), and strategised how best to catch the evasive trout. And when they were successful, they were genuinely happy for each other. Instead of the way-too-early-morning wake-up to "mom, can we go watch TV?", we now had "Mom? Can dad untangle our reels, we want to go fish". What an absolute, heart-warming pleasure!

Before I come off sounding pious and judgemental, I need to say that this post is a commentary on myself as a parent first, not a blanket generalisation. However, if the shoe fits, if any bells are rung, listen and wear it. I'm Just Saying. Kids have far too many instant gratification options available to them. The TV fall back, the computer game baby sitter, the X-Box play date.. nonsense!! Lazy parenting breeds lazy kids. Even though I was hopeless at maths, even I can see the logic in this summation. I for one, am putting my foot firmly down, and will be attempting to stop the development of sloth-like natures in my kids, before I shell out any more money on OT for poor posture; before I get called in to the headmasters office to discuss the choice language of my 9 year old (I wait with bated breath for this one!); before I pay thousands to a therapist to tell me why my 9 year old is sullen and exhibiting Hannah Montana overly-theatrical-dramatic behaviour; or heaven forbid, pleading my child's case to the courts after a if-they-can-do-it-on-Grand-Theft-Auto-why-can't-I moment!

We have an "I'm Bored" jar now (thanks Pinterest!). If playing with the gazillion toys in their rooms, or reading the countless books on their bookshelves doesn't do it for them, my kids have to pick an activity - a mom-designed-sometimes-fun-sometimes-not activity - from this jar. Included in these activities are chores to be done. Not such fun! Suddenly my kids imaginations are being dusted off, their creativity is being stretched, and their playing-independently-muscles are being exercised. We talk more, we listen more, and life definitely seems less hyped up. What a win!!

I woke up this morning feeling really positive about life. The fact that Christmas is around the corner (my absolutely FAVORITE time of year!), and the prospect of a long summer holiday (with a two week road trip with very special friends), to look forward to, I plan on making living more simply work for me, my family and most importantly, my kids. If I have to become someone Hitler would be too afraid not to obey (I'm sure there's a little tyrannical dictator in all parents!), then I will gladly rise to the occasion! 

So its heavy restrictions on X-Box, limited TV time and only approved channels (banishing all back-chatting-parent-disrespecting-low-pants-wearing-teen-know-it-all channels), no more moshi monsters or plant killing zombies on the computer. Its bikes, books, friends, dirt, mud, Lego, puzzles, board games, crafts and imaginary play. From now on. Because I say so. Because my kids need it. Because we all need it. I'm Just Saying...

(Let's see how long this lasts!! I'm Just Saying...)

Pavlov For People

BOUNDARIES... In the continued saga to settle Sasha, my 12 year old border collie, into our new house, we had to address the boundary issue - both literally and figuratively. In a nut shell, Sasha, being quite set in her ways and extremely stubborn, did not want to be confined to the area (the back garden), which was already fenced in and more  than suitable for a little dog. Instead, she wanted to be in the front, roaming free and doing exactly what her single-focused mind wanted to do. We realised very quickly it was not a battle of the wills we stood any chance of winning! 

So off to the vet we went, where we dropped an earth shattering R3000 (a big ask after the never ending moving expenses that literally appear infinite!), and bought a system called "Pet Safe" (an American product guaranteed to put us in a win-win situation). How this works (and please - NO JUDGING!), is a literal interpretation of Pavlov's Theory. The no-go areas (in our case, the top of the driveway leading onto the road, and the open hedges), are cordoned off by an electrical cable, which is buried under ground, and is demarcated by little white flags. Sasha wears a new collar, which is connected to the system,and has a little probe touching her neck. Should she attempt to cross the forbid territory, the system emits a little shock (a small zap - I did try it on myself first!) After a training session, and two little self-inflicted zaps as she explored her new boundaries - we had success! Without the collar even on, she WILL NOT cross the magic line.Such a clever dog!

Without turning this into a lengthy commentary about the ingeniousness of my four-legged child, this process had me thinking about the practical use of Pavlov with people. Imagine the success rate in churning out well disciplined kids?! Fight with your sister? ZAP! Back chat your mom? ZAP! Lie about homework? ZAP! Open the fridge and stare blankly because you are bored? ZAP! Slam your bedroom door in a rage? ZAP! Before child line is called, I would never do this to my kids. But I do dream about a system of reinforcement that has an instant effect rather than the grounding, losing a marble out the Being Good Jar, banning of X-Box etc.. discipline methods we rely on at home!!

And what about the errant  husband? Eyes straying in the wrong direction? ZAP! Looking at the watch, ignoring the cell phone and having the fifth absolutely last beer at the pub? ZAP! Reaching for the wallet to buy one more bank-breaking-will-die-if-I-don't-have-it piece of equipment for his mountain bike / golf bag / motor bike / or car? ZAP! 

On a personal note, the positive effects this would have on ME would be insurmountable! Not being hungry but have to have the last piece of Aero Bubbly - ZAP! Needing to go for a run but making up excuses to avoid it - ZAP! Buying yet another vase / cushion / photo frame / decorative piece of useless something just because - ZAP! Facebooking / Twittering / Pinteresting/ blogging instead for plowing through the piles of CV's in my inbox - ZAP! Reaching for the Bar One / Cosmo / bag of Chuckles conveniently placed in the queueing aisle at Woolworths- ZAP! Buying one more gorgeous journal / notebook / diary because it is beautiful (I have a drawer FULL of unused ones already!) - ZAP! Or my most indulgent (yes, I am a nerd!), spending money at Waltons / CNA / any stationers to feed my stationary obsession - ZAP!!! I would be thinner, richer, and far more productive if Pet Safe was designed as a pretty bracelet for people, instead of a black dog collar!

Pushing, or ignoring boundaries (self - or sociably imposed) is something we are all more than familiar with. Until some Pavlovian follower invents a socially acceptable Zapper for People, I have to be content with spending a large amount of time thinking of ideas to either reinforce positively, or punitively, my kids, myself and in a small way (;)), my husband. And although the results may not be as instantaneous as the ZAP to the arm would be, I have seen success with banning the x-box, and rewarding with marbles that have a monetary value; the bathroom scale and the credit card statement; and the threat of being banished to the couch for the night! Pavlov in longhand - I'm Just Saying...

We have moved!

We have moved. Over. Done. Finished. Bar a few boxes lingering in my office, and a few dozen pictures, paintings, photo's, and mirrors waiting impatiently to be hung, we are in. Right off the bat let me say this - moving is NOT for the feint hearted! It has more than earned its place up there with death and divorce (either of which were tempting options themselves throughout this process!!).  It has been a process fraught with emotions - ranging from excitement, to nervousness, nail-biting-anxiety, sadness, rage-inducing-impatience, sheer disbelief, bewilderment, more anxiety, absolute bliss, confusion, concern, excitedness (again!), and utter contentment. But we have survived (or at least, are surviving!), and I am absolutely in love with our new home.

Moving has given me plenty of opportunities to consider change and the effect it has had on us. My biggest concern was how my children would handle the change. After an initial bout of unsettledness, however, both have acclimatised and  embraced the adventure of a new house, on a new estate, with more access to their friends, slightly more freedom, and new responsibilities. Warren and I have slotted in, loving being part of a new community of amazing families, close to quite a few of our very good friends, easier traveling distances, a bigger home, and in general, another tick on our To Do List of dreams. Sasha, my 13 year old border collie, however, is another matter altogether. As stubborn as she is loyal, she is refusing to go with the flow! So its a new fence, and retraining on the agenda. Here's hoping she is true to the adage about teaching old dogs...!

This old dog (ahem!!) has certainly learnt some new tricks lately. How to use a drill, electric screwdriver, hammer and my voice, very well! My pet hate is being patronised (a close second to being taken advantage of!). As was to be expected, there have been issues with the new house, issues that required dealing with know-it-all-electricians, patronising-blame-shifting-builders, clumsy-well-meaning-handymen, etc. Very quickly they all learnt not to take my short stature and blonde hair for granted!

And all through the upheaval of the past few weeks, life has continued. Hockey matches have been played, school projects and market days have been completed, Spring Flings have been attended, birthdays have come and gone, and babies have been born. What has remained steadfast through it all has been the love and support of friends and family. Friends have arrived with meals, carried boxes, moved furniture, entertained my kids, shared endless glasses of wine, offered advice, and generally been amazing! I am seriously blessed with my group of friends! And my mom - God Bless mothers! She packed, unpacked, moved, reorganized, fetched and carried,  understood my tears of frustration, and supported. Thank you, mom!

And so life has resumed. A little less like the old normal, a new kind of normal in its place. I look forward to new challenges, new adventures. We have worked hard to be where we are, and are so grateful to be here. Its all about grabbing that bull by both horns, and leaping into the unknown with our eyes wide open! SO we have moved. We are here. Ready to start making new memories as precious as the old. Watch this space! I'm just saying...

Olympic Fever

Olympic Fever has gripped the world. Or so Twitter and Facebook would have us believe. Everyone has suddenly become  an expert on all sporting activities - even the not-so-common ones, like kayaking and triple jump long jump. And suddenly everyone is on first name basis with our gold medalists ("Chad? I went to the same primary school as him 100 years ago! He was always destined to be an Olympic Gold Medalist"!!!) I might sound cynical, but I have to admit that I too have been glued to the screen watching the women's weight lifting finals, and offering my clearly expert opinion on each contestant (you would be lying if you said you never watched and pointed out how svelte those 200kg ladies looked when they tightened their kidney belts!)

No matter how much we train for the 100m sprint (read: jog three times a week), or the 100m butterfly (read: bobbing up and down in the heated indoor pool at the gym), there CAN only be one Caster, one Chad, one Cameron (yes, I am on first name basis ;)). Should the Olympic categories diversify, however, I strongly believe that we would have quite a few Gold Medalists right under our noses.

Olympic Status Updates. This includes, but is not restricted to BlackBerry Messenger Status, Face Book, Whats App, and Twitter. The competition for the Gold in this category would be fierce. (For the record, Ash, I am not talking about you ;)) I have friends who update their status's up to 15 times a day! And what's even more fun is when they link their updates to all platforms!! So every meal, mood, thought that they have is delivered to those on the receiving end no fewer than 3 times at once. Its hard to keep up! You have just processed the news that their french toast was slightly burnt this morning, when they hit you with the earth shattering news that they are stuck in a traffic jam (oddly enough, the same one they were stuck in, at the same time every other morning since they learned how to update and share!!). Before I get accused of "Pottle" (Gareth Cliff - Pot calling the Kettle Black) I admit to once being one of those frequent updaters. I have, however, lost my place on the podium, lagging far behind the leaders!

Having the Last Word Olympic Style. As a self-confessed control freak, I have trained long and hard for this Gold. My kids, however, seem to have inherited this trait from me, and have the persistence of a 'flu bug in winter (well, in my house anyway)! Every comment, request, order, directive, appeal, is met with serious negotiation. When agreement is finally reached, that parting shot delivered just as they turn the corner is as predictable as the fact that whatever I have just reached agreement with them on, will be forgotten in three seconds!! On this same point, however, I believe that I am a strong contender in The Olympic Nagging category. Its not something I enjoy doing, but am forced to do by those who will just not listen to me the first time! My sparing partners in this field include, but are not limited to, my two children, my husband, and my border collie Sasha. And they have afforded me lots of practice! Unfortunately, unless I suddenly find that elusive magic wand, I fear I will remain untouchable in this category.

The Support at School Events Category. Hands down, there would be a unanimous tie for gold in this category by most parents. And yes, I believe it should be something we as parents be rewarded for. Sitting through the whole school play (and often more than once), just to see your little one come on at the end and do her two minute number; freezing (literally) our asses off on the side of the sports field for hours (literally!), watching all those eventful relays, and sack races, and more relays, just to see your little one do his 25m sprint; manning the coloured hair spray booth at the school's Founders Day, in the wind, with every child (read: headstrong I-want-a-red-star-and-blue-and-green-striped-pattern-in-my-hair under 12 year old), being precious about what they want; forking out hundreds of rands (literally!) to support the candy floss, jumping castle, cheap-plastic-cr@p-stall at the same school event. And every year, back we go, to repeat the process, loving our kids so much that those two minute moments in the limelight make it all worth while. Without a doubt, we South African parents would hold the world record in this category!

And last but not least Olympic Procrastination. Without a doubt, categorically, unequivocally, absolutely - I would take that Gold in this event. Packing boxes to move - suddenly I have to reorganize my photo albums, bake Oatmeal Raisin Cookies, take the dog for a long walk, watch Good Luck Charlie (even though I have seen this particular episode a dozen times!), with my kids, write my blog.

We are so proud of all of our traditional Olympic Medalists. And as a nation we have all banded together to couch-support (read: coach and judge!), and cheer these sporting hero's on.  We own their victories as though we ourselves had physically earned them. But lets not short change ourselves. Back in the real world, in the Olympics of Life, we should own our own victories, no matter how trite, and pat ourselves on the back. I'm Just Saying...

Iceberg Moments

I have had a lot of time these past few days, while decluttering my "stuff", and starting the Great Pack in preparation for our move at the end of the month, to contemplate life. (For the record, I kept exponentially more than I threw away! I lost hours reading through every bit of paper, every card, every note, each school diary, and hundreds (actually probably more like thousands) of photographs, and memorabilia. I found birthday cards from when I was nine or ten from school friends, notes from the same and every other era, through to primary and later high school, University and from the start of my life with Warren, through to today.)

When I finally closed, sealed and labelled that box I was smiling. I had an epiphany - I have had, and DO have an amazing life. This might sound trite, how could I have only just realised this? But what it highlighted for me was that we, I, spend so much time focusing on the negative. The problems. The half-full moments. The uphills, the battles, the trials and tribulations. Stepping back for a minute and looking at my world from a whole, an almost clinical point of view, I realised that despite all the downs, the ups made for a pretty fantastic life. This was my Iceberg Moment. Focusing on the top, which in reality is minor, compared with the monumental bottom - which in reality is the greater part of the whole, and realising its Titanic importance.

From way back when, I have always had a solid foundation of the most special, most amazing, lifelong friends. I have, however, focused so much on the the fact that most of my oldest and dearest friends live so far away, spread all over the world, "Scatterlings of Africa", (in fact, with close friends living nearby, our busy lives make this sentiment true for them too), and pining for them, instead of embracing the fact that technology has made it possible to stay in touch, to stay a part of each others lives, making the real time visits so special. Our shared childhood, shared history, shared experiences, growing up and growing old together, will always keep our friendships strong.  And that is the greater part of the iceberg!

I never traveled on my own before getting married. This niggles me sometimes, that tiny tip of ice poking up. What would it have been like? Could I even do it? But beneath this tiny tip, lies an infinite icy rock. I met, fell in love with, and married my first love, my soul mate. And together we have weathered more ups and downs than I can remember. We fight, we bicker, we disagree, the urge to walk away has been felt on both sides many times, but at the end of the day, we find ourselves back where we belong. Together. And stronger. We have the most awesome life. And have done it together, starting off with nothing but University Degrees and a huge enthusiasm (and naivety) for life! And together we have grown, and built a life with two beautiful children, ticking off our dreams one by one. Reading through first Valentine cards, first Christmas cards, birthday cards, (there have been 17 in total!), and looking at the picture that is US, I am happy. Deeply fulfilled and happy.

My body has been through hell, health wise. And to be honest, the top of that iceberg does seem top heavy in comparison with down below. I battled to fall pregnant, and it took IVF and GIFT for this to be possible. It was beyond hard. Heart wrenching, physically and emotionally traumatic. But we did it. And at the end - twins. My beautiful Kirsten and Dylan. Years later I had to have a hysterectomy due to other medial issues. Again, the top seemed to over shadow anything else that may be lurking down below. Stepping back and critically looking at these events in my life, however,  I know this is not the case. Below the massive top which before seemed so overpowering, is an even bigger, more impressively influential, bottom. Every crisis brings my family, Warren and I, my amazing friends, closer together. And every crisis highlights two major blessings - my children.

When I moan about packing up my house, or about the 6th school run I have done in one day, or about the unrealistic expectations of some of my clients, or about Warren working late again, I will stop and remember my Icebergs. What is below the surface is way more important than the annoying chunks of ice on top. I'm sure Jack and Rose (or rather Kate and Leonardo!) would agree. I'm Just Saying...

Moving On

In four weeks time, we are moving house. Stated like that it sounds so simple. In reality, however, it is anything but.  (Having said that, I have this amazing ability to turn the simplest things into the most complex, stressful, complicated events. I cringe when I think about what I will do with moving house!!)

Honored with a place right at the top of the list of the most stressful events in life, right after death (I'm never sure if this is my death or someone else's!!), is moving house. I have quickly come to realise that moving has a way of forcing you to deal with all sorts of issues. Physical, emotional, tactical, logistical, the obvious issues, and those that blindside you - coming out of nowhere and sending you reeling. Issues that have been safely compartmentalized, and tucked away for aeons suddenly rise up like Mount Everest, with sanity on the other side.

One of the most daunting tasks ahead of me during this process is one of both a physical and emotional nature. Unfortunately it is a task I have to perform before I can even think about packing a box. I am a collector (read hoarder). I am intensely sentimental and hyper-sensitive about things from the past. I have what I think is a normal, healthy attachment to these things (others might disagree and say it borders on unhealthy-obsessive-bag-lady tendencies, but who listens to that niggling voice in your head anyway!).   I have a collection of letters (written on actual paper - not electronic!) from my school days. Notes passed in class between my oldest BFF Jennifer and I. We are still firm friends today, and reading these takes me straight back to those carefree days of crushes, parties, school disco's, first boyfriends, clothing crisis's, and exams. There is no way I can part with them. Moving on.

I have cartons and cartons of old photos from my parents youth right through to my own kids. In boxes. Unsorted. Again, I can't part with these. Moving swiftly along... Up in the rafters in the garage is a suitcase of old baby clothes from my kids, cartons of school work (from my school days and from my kids), and picture frames - TONS of them. Outdated and empty - but maybe one day they will be revived and given a new lease on life? And magazines. I have no idea why I thought that by storing literally hundreds of magazines I would one day find the time to sort and file the relevant things in them  - the obvious reason why I kept them in the first place! I could go on, but as I list my "collections", the knot in my stomach grows, and that voice in my head gets louder and louder!

The emotional issue I have with decluttering before I pack needs to be dealt with. I keep these things for reasons. I don't live in the past, but I like to visit from time-to-time. However, I have decided that I need to purge and cleanse before moving. Be selective and  chuck. For me this is huge.

This need to cling to the past, the comfort zone of what we know, has been passed onto my daughter, Kirsten. She has had a hard time getting used to the idea of a new house, a new room, a new area. She has moments of panic when out of the blue the tears start and she asks "Mom? Can my snow globes come to the new house? And my books? And my curtains?" Seeing her battling with this has forced me to address my own fear of leaving the past behind. Stepping out of my comfort zone. Helping her through this as sensitively as possible will be a good exercise for both of us.

Logical issues (being logical is not in my nature!), are another hurdle I have to overcome. I have this tendency to be impatient (*blush*), and need to be firmly in control. I want things to happen how and when I want them. One thing moving house has taught me (in unavoidable neon lettering!), is that I am not in control of a lot of the when's. When the transfer happens, when the exact occupation date is, when my new curtains will be ready, etc etc. I am out of my nicely controlled comfort zone here!!

The physical issues about moving are staring me in the face. These boxes are not going to pack themselves! Before making a start, however, I need to update my WILL DO List. Maybe if I commit to categorizing my photo's and filing my recipes and sorting through my kids old artwork from school (boxes and boxes of it!), I will do it. Or maybe I will trawl Pinterest for How-to-Organise-Just-About-Anything ideas to get me started. Maybe then dealing with my moving issues won't be such a Mount Everest for me. Maybe. I'm Just Saying...
 

Will Do!

I have read so many blogs and articles lately where the focus has been on "Bucket Lists". There have been Bucket Lists for school holidays,(which I admit had a certain appeal after a few "you are  both going to boarding school!!" days these holidays); Bucket Lists for adventures; Bucket Lists for the next three months (90 things in 90 days); Bucket Lists for before you kick the proverbial bucket; and my favourite from my good friend Bernadette (http://b4forty.blogspot.com/). Bern had an "I'm almost forty, and I still haven't done all those wild things" moment, and created her own form of Bucket List. Her journey through this list has been hilarious, and so admirable. She has literally put her money where her mouth is, and has documented her escapades for inspiration.

To be honest, I have always found the idea of a Bucket List to be a bit morbid. What happens when you get to the end? Is the whole concept not temping fate? I am such a believer in fate, so the thought of waving the red flag in front of the "OK-I'm-done-with-my-list-now-grim-reaper" scared the hell out of me. And then the antithesis: how many of us are really going to walk the entire Great Wall of China? Or cliff jump off some remote Death-by-Stupidity cliff face? Or write a Pulitzer Award Winning Autobiography? Or even organise our CD collections by genre and alphabetically??? So by committing ourselves to a Bucket List, are we not setting ourselves up for inevitable failure? Or is that too cynical an outlook?

Lately, however, I have found myself in quite a dilemma. I am a HUGE procrastinator by nature. I tend to put off doing things until I absolutely have to. And then work frantically under pressure. I am also big on lists. Having lists keeps me focused and on track. And I have dreams. Big "one day when" dreams. Dreamer plus procrastinator does not bode well for making "one day's" a reality.  So do I give into the modern trend of creating my own Bucket List? Somehow, though, I just can't shake the ominous feeling of impending doom if I do.

It is now two weeks into the school holidays, with another two still to go. On my list, stubbornly unscratched off, remains my twins' birthday party to organise; a house to pack up for our impending move; promises to teach Kirst to knit properly & Dyl to snake-board (yes, I CAN!!); thoughts of pre- cooking suppers to freeze for the start of the new term;  my running career to resurrect; my new business to set up properly; my recipe collection to organise and my wish to do more writing.  And this is just my To Do List!

I have decided that the only way I am ever going to see the other side of my "chore list", and create space for my "One Day When" dreams, while side stepping the morbidity of a Bucket List, is to create my own version - my Will Do list. The caveat is that it will be bottomless in practise, and the whip-cracking-motivation is that it will be public. Its time for me to put my money where MY mouth is, and commit to some of my "one day's". Nothing as mundane as categorising my CD collection, and nothing as eye brow-raising as tattoo's.  Who knows? Maybe as I work my way through this process my goals will become more adventurous and brazen! And mixed with my everyday "To Do" items, the scratching off of completed tasks will spur me on! Someone very clever once said that goals not written down are merely wishes. So watch this space, I am putting pen to paper... I'm Just Saying...