Monthly Archives: March 2013

Before you cast the first stone…

I often wonder if I’m doing an o.k. job of raising my two kids.  I know what I do is probably not always the right thing, or the best way, but I’m doing the best I can with what I’ve got.  Then I go visit my friends with kids the same age as mine, and I see the way they behave, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

I see that their 9 year old is also a bit moody and acting like a 16 year old would (without the hormonal “boy” trouble), and her 5 year old is also going through a “phase”.  I see my other friends and they tell me their’s did the same thing, and that is more or less no different between the boys and the girls.  Then I know they are all going through what I am, and it is part of being a parent, and raising kids.  I’m on the right path.

So why is it that when I still had parents, they could not stop telling me that I’m raising my kids all wrong, they have no respect, they have no boundaries  they run around and (attempt) to break everything, and they never sit still and they can never just “be good”?

This I might add, happened when my daughter was just 6 years old and her little brother a year and 8 months.

I mean, what do you expect from a little boy of… Continue reading

Timeline of my Life

This site came to be at the recommendation of my Shrink.

This is my small attempt to document, purge and clease my soul.  I have felt the need to write since I was a little girl, and as teenage I remember I had a diary made up of hard cover office books 4 all together.  I removed the inner book covers and stuck them all into a single unit.  This book contained all my teenage trials tribulations and feelings.

Then I started dating my first husband an obsessive compulsively controlling and “tidy” person.  He read my diary and I started finding myself writing entrys to please him.  Crap.

In a wild attempt to make sense of it all (I have ADD) I try and keep a timeline of my life, but once I start writing a post,  the next thing I know I have digressed about 7 times from the topic I started on, and in the end it breaks up into almost 4 totally different coherent articles.  It’s just how my mind spews the information, because to me, it’s all in the details.

So here goes (a very simple basic timeline) of the 3 categories of my blog.

When I was small ……….

1972 – The year I was born

1974 – Mother divorces my Dad

1976 – Mother starts dating my Godfather

1978 – Grade 1

1981 – First sister is born

1984 – First step dad is… Continue reading

The Stay at home mom plan..

When my first child was born, it broke my heart to not be in a position to be a stay at home mommy like most of my friends.  Times were tough and I was forced to take her to day-care after my four months maternity leave was over.

Due to reasons I only discovered much later (OCD issues),  I was a very difficult mother for the school to deal with.  I concede that I was worse than other first time parents.

We were issued a little book for communication every day.

If my baby looked like she may be developing a slight pink hue on her bottom I would give instructions to use more cream in the book.

If they sent any of her (expressed breast) milk home, I accused the school of starving her and wrote in big capitalized letters on the next page.

If she had a runny nose they were accused of spreading germs by not washing their hands enough…. You get the drift.

It is still a mystery to this day that they stuck it out with me for a full 2 years.

 

After my first born, we thought we should get this child business over with and have another one.    Since it was now proven that we could actually do it, and the years were moving along we tried when my daughter turned two.

Fertility medications, temperature readings, scheduled sex.  Ugh.  We did this for one… Continue reading

My Dad

My Dad.

Daddy.

I have only one memory of him.

I was sitting on his knee, I must have been 2 or 3, and he was feeding me egg mayonnaise.  It was my favourite food as a baby (or so they tell me).

You see, my mother divorced my father when I was a very small girl, and we were forbidden to every mention his name or ask any questions about him.

Later when I went to primary school I got a photograph of him from my gran.   It was a black and white photo of a very handsome young police officer, making a joke with somebody behind him (not in the photo) and smiling with a pretty dimple in his cheek.  Just like the one in mine.

Noun 1.
dad
 – an informal term for a father; probably derived from baby talk
begetterfathermale parent – a male parent (also used as a term of address to your father)

At the end of my 5th year of school, my gran got a call from the family on their side, and for some reason unknown to man, the cousins wanted to meet me and take me on a week long holiday to Durban.

And so they sent me off to strangers.

I met the cousins and they were really nice people.  … Continue reading

The gift of ADD (Attention Deficit Disorder)

Growing up was a struggle for me.

I always seemed to be on another wavelength from everyone else.  I was a silent, shy and introverted little girl, that did not really fit in anywhere, so I always hovered around on the edges.

A dreamer.

girl frustrated with ADDGreat was my surprise when, in grade 6 I was one of the candidates to go to leadership camp for final selection to become a Prefect (or leader).  We had to solve obstacle  courses (almost like the reality show “survivor”) working in teams, and individually.

Well, if you know anything about ADD you would know that one of the biggest telltale signs is called weak impulse control (or as I like to put it no filters).    Other people perceive things like risks, danger and morals as things that will make them stand back and take a second to think about what they are about to do, but an ADD or (ADHD) person sort of just jump in, they don’t really have those filters (they do have them, but don’t give it a second thought).  Of course there are lots of sub – conditions that people with ADD can develop such as Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (this has nothing to do with being neat) – it is counting things, having to be in control of things, and having to do things a certain way.

This is both a good and bad thing while still at school.  I came up… Continue reading

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