Yesterday’s parties

Whatever happened to good old birthday parties? I saw party invites and photos of friends parties and I’ve realized just how lucky I am that my boys are grown up and I don’t need to plan one of these

  • boot camp party (army style) 
  • disco party (with real DJ running it)
  • pamper (day at spa – manicure and pedicure) birthday party
  • cooking master-chef party
  • modeling shoot (bring two outfits, etc meet at photography studio!) birthday party
  • American Idol party
  • wall climbing or rock climbing party

This is what some mom’s are doing to keep their children entertained at birthday parties. And these kiddies are 8, 9, and 10. The boot camp party was for a 4-year-old, complete with camouflage, trench maneuvers, obstacles with nets, ropes and swings.

Back in the day in my household and in my circle of friends we used to arrange a gorgeous cake, crisps, pizza, some kind of adult food, juice, lots of sweets, party packs a water slide for summer and a jumping castle! That’s all that was needed, and the party was always a huge success.

If you wanted to keep your house clean there was always Spur or party-zone.

Unbelievable how things have changed, I think I prefer my old theme parties. IMG-20130321-01254 IMG-20130321-01255IMG-20130321-01256IMG-20130321-01257IMG-20130321-01258IMG-20130321-01259IMG-20130321-01260

…write no evil

Speak no evil. hear No evil. Look no evilWhere have I been these past few weeks?

I don’t actually know!

I have not blogged in what feels like ages. Is it writers block 😀 or am I just out of ideas and stuff to say?

I blog about the boys, my art, family, heartaches, happy moments, holidays, my photographer and God. Sometimes I blog about the few recipes that work out and recently my running. None of that has stopped it’s all still going on, I’m thinking of the next race, I’m busy with a painting that is taking long, the boys and my photographer are still making me happy or making me cry. I made chocolate cake the other day, maybe I should share my secret recipe…but Moo thinks it should stay a secret and stay in the family 🙂

I never blog when I’m angry, disappointed or had a fight with someone close. Not sure why, it’s hard to bare that side of my soul and to share what I’m feeling and thinking at a time like that.

I have been busy, feeling lazy and tired. The ideas and half posts and blogs are sitting somewhere in little notes or deep inside. I’m sure it will all come out again, soon.

Sorry for the silence. For now it’s – hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil and write no evil

Getting Measured


Oh yes, I had one those very unusual days. Alone, shopping early in the afternoon with no pressure and no one following me. It was a good afternoon and I spent it doing some retail therapy not only for myself. I was out there thinking of the family too. All of them, that whole story of buying them practical gifts and being practical – went right out the window. I got carried away the beauty of the mall and the decorations and all things shiny.

*sigh* It is Christmas after all and there is no time to be playing around and looking for can of oil for the car or bike, seriously!? What was I thinking??

Anyway having all this time for myself and one thing on my list – BRA  – I decided to do what I always read about, and hear others talking about….I asked the shop assistant at Edgars if they take measurements for bra sizes?

She said YES and pointed me to the lady. I walked over with the one hundred bras I had tried that did not fit and strangled me. She took one good look at me (big mama, black women) at my boobs anyway not my face and told me straight: “those are not your size”

She didn’t even have a tape measure in her hand, so I thought I was about to walk away when she picked two bras and told me to try them.

I walked back to the change room to try them out and they did fit. She then came looking for me and told me to open the door “I want to see” and I reluctantly let her in. She had the tape measure and more bras in her hand. So I did get measured but I think she did that for fun or whatever, because her prediction was correct. I bought two sets with a huge frown and so many doubts, once you buy these items and take them home they won’t exchange them.

I have been wearing my mini padded pretty pink bra and the skin tone not padded one for more than a week. And I can breathe. I have had an instant boob job.

They look good. And I’m happy.

I was wearing the wrong size for years, no wonder I couldn’t wait to get home and remove it! What a wonderful relief.

Keeping in the topic of bras and good-looking boobs, here’s a nice video, check it out 🙂

Talented lady

It must be a mistake

Last month I blogged about the ½ ply toilet paper at work – Change in the office – well today my friend walked over to my desk with this….

A piece of 2 ply real puppy (Baby Soft) toilet paper. It was in our loo. OMW!  I can’t believe it, none of us can!

It must be a mistake…let’s see how long this lasts. For now we are just laughing about the new discovery and the surprise 😀

It’s the small things that count.

Electric Chair

What’s the age restriction on a horror movie? Whatever it is, it applies to this creepy scary story.

I can’t remember having bad experiences when I was a child, actually I think the memories are all pretty OK. I remember one dentist used to have a funny poster on the ceiling. You could stare at it while he was busy drilling and filling it was like a ‘where’s wally’ type of poster. Very entertaining.

But I don’t know what it is about that chair, I break out into cold sweats every time I’m there.

You know when a woman tells you that she’d rather visit the gynecologist than the dentist, well then believe her and believe me – I would definitely rather visit the gynae than the dentist!

A visit with him lasts about 15 minutes in total that includes the pre-examination chat. He uses two instruments (and that’s a lot) and he whistles throughout the examination. He says; “beautiful, everything is beautiful” (it must be the fairy dust/glitter) and then we’re done, and we reschedule for six months later. Easy.

The dentist?! Wow, that’s like expecting a visit on the electric chair, one finger on the button, a thousand bolts and my feet in a bucket of water!

Story behind my fear – I have no idea where it comes from all I know is that when I chew gum I can only handle half a beechie bubble gum – half! You know how small one whole one is? Well I can’t put the whole thing in my mouth it makes me gag…all that spit and juice, yugh!

When I brush my teeth, I can’t keep the brush and all that tooth paste in my mouth for too long, it also makes me gag. I have to be careful how far the brush goes, cause if it’s too far down my throat it’s a definite puke.

What I need – two rescue tablets before the visit. Before some visits a small tablet to dry out the saliva. In the chair it’s happy gas and the injection – pump it up, double it up doc. And a huge pile of tissues on my tummy for spitting.

In the chair – one and a half hours and there’s a million instruments in my mouth and two hands. The injection has made me feel like I can’t breathe from the one nostril it’s numb. I close my eyes and breath in the gas hoping and praying that this is over soon. All I hear is open wide, little more, open wide, ok, you can close a bit, ok, open wide, swallow!

What? Are you mad? Swallow is never going to happen unless you bring that chair up real quick and a bucket on my right side so I can puke. My mouth produces more saliva than normal when I’m lying there in that chair. The sound of the drill thing is worse than gunshots, thunder and ambulances flying past you at 180 k’s. That sound alone is enough to make me want to pee in my pants with fear, then there’s the smell. I don’t know why but it has a horrid smell when he uses that grinding drilling thing. And I can’t breathe. Firstly because there’s too much stuff in my mouth if I breath through the mouth I might have to swallow (and that’s not going to happen). If I breath through the nose I can smell it and then I will gag and definitely puke. So I don’t breath for however long he keeps that thing going in my mouth. Can you imagine lying in the electric chair and suffocating yourself to death? *scream* it’s absolute horror for me.

So now I’m cold, cold sweats. I clench and my legs won’t sit still it’s a tremble all the time. Then he takes a mould of my teeth. Oh crap! That stuff at the top of my mouth going too far back on the roof like down the throat…yeah it’s one of those bucket moments. All the time he tells me to open wide, a bit more, ok, a bit more, relax, you can swallow. That’s when the tissues are used, I take my own and use a stack of them and keep spitting in them. When the gas is on I can feel my head going funny almost a drunk state (I think, I’ve never been drunk) but it is a drugged feeling, light headed, then my arms relax and I don’t want to clench anymore. My legs worry me cause there’s no lady like manner on his chair when they feel like they are just falling wide apart, open and I’m nearly losing my shoes.

I’m going to stop now, this is scaring me, I can hear footsteps in the passage it’s not the tooth fairy its someone or something with a dentist drill euuu!! Really I did not exaggerate one bit, this is my experience in the chair. So now you know why I’d rather visit the gynae. When I leave the dentist I just want to run home and brush my teeth, although sometimes they say nothing in mouth for two hours, and I always, always have a craving for nik naks!! Crazy. I am crazy. But I am also very scared of the dentist.

Having said all of that my dentist is very professional, soft spoken, patient and gentle. He’s also forgiving – I bit him once. Today I had to hold his hand so he could wait a bit while I gagged and nearly cried. Embarrassing, he is also a friend of the family, what does he think of this crazy person? #Willie

He is the man I just love to hate. In two weeks’ time I have to go back to finish my crown treatment ;(

HELP, I’m running for the hills…..