I bit the proverbial bullet..

As you can gather, from a certain previous post, that I hate exercise. Hate it. Detest it. I wish it was never invented. I wish the Big Man had given Cavemen go-karts and R1's instead of them having to run after those Buffalo and woolly Mammoths with flimsy half assed spears!

But no ja, according to hundreds (probably millions actually, but I am in skeptical denial) of experts say that the shit is good for you. Combined with the fact that I am not getting any younger (much to my disgust), I decided to do some. Exercise that is.. So I bought myself a second hand spinning bike. Well at least I think it's a spinning bike? The wheels go really fast? Anyway…

It took me 3 days to actually get it out the bakkie first of all, so determined was my procrastination and absolute fear of keeling over from a heart attack.

But eventually she (I say she because she is an absolute BITCH!) was hooked up to electricity, and facing my very large flat screen. Ready to go. But I wasn’t, not yet. We sat there staring at each other in morbid fascination. Deciding that, like oral sex, this bike wasn’t gonna ride itself, I got up and gingerly approached her. Not wanting to startle her I talked sweetly to her, asking her not to be afraid my large ass, reassuring her that I would never deliberately hurt her and asked her to return that particular favour. I had become the Bicycle Whisperer..

Tenderly I adjusted the seat and handlebars. Careful not to scratch or push too hard. Finally she and I were both ready, it was now or never.

I stood next to her, one hand on the seat and one on the handlebars and quickly swung my leg over. Now if you know me I don’t easily swung my leg over anything, or anybody. I felt rather vulnerable at this point, but pushed forward. I felt safe in the knowledge that unlike it’s four legged counter part it was not gonna be able to throw me. I could fall off, but that’s another post.

So I was on.

My son sat quietly across the room, watching me intently. He’d never seen me do any serious exercise before either. Once we tried some Yoga / Pilates moves with an aunt’s gym ball but he laughed so much he eventually peed himself and had to leave the room. I took that as an opportunity to never humiliate my son like that again and ceased all rigorous movement. Grabbing a coke from the fridge and a cigarette I decided I could never attempt anything like that again!

I fiddled with some settings, pressed start and off I went. My legs actually moved, I didn’t fall off, and Kai was smiling. It all looked good so far. I kept going for 15 minutes. After 3 minutes Kai eventually piped up “Mom! I can see it already!!” Panicking I whipped around looking for what was hanging out that shouldn’t be. “What?” I yelled! “You mom! You looking slimmer already..” he replied chuffed. It was so sweet of him, I almost shot a tear. Secretly I believed it to.. Because I mean really it had been 3 minutes!

And so I have kept going, every morning and every evening. Granted it’s only been 3 days. But I have a good feeling about this… Maybe the elevated dopamine levels have already started to change my outlook on exercise? Who knows.. But for the following reason I need to keep at it:

1        I want to lose MORE weight!

2        I want to play cricket with my son for more that 2.47 minutes at a time.

3        I want to dance.. Like take classes!

4        Its good for my diabetes

5        I would like to get laid within the next century again

6        Oh ja, and apparently it’s good for you?

They say it takes about 21 days to form a habit. So right now that is my goal. Just 21 days. And see where I end up.

My friend, The Adrenalin Junkie (riding, canoeing, jogging, sometimes all 3 at once!) has already emailed me the training schedule for the Amashova Bike Race. He reckons “You got 10 months; you’ll be fine, aim for 4 hours.” When I sarcastically asked why aim for 4 when I can do it in 5 he responded “It’s only 106km! And it’s from Pietermaritzburg to Durban, that’s all downhill!!”

I can hear him sniggering; I haven’t spoken to him since.

And so, because I am doing something out of my comfort zone, I challenge everyone who thinks they can’t do something to just try it. Even if it’s only once.. You never know.. Any second could be the second that changes your life.

How I think I look..

 

How I actually look..

Hhhmmm, Me? Good? I dunno about that hey..

One of my favourites cousins (yes I have a few) is turning the big 3-0 this month.. (Shame doll, it's all downhill from here!) Instead of the usual drink-till-you-fall-on-your-face blowout (which personally, is my favourite) she has come up with a rather lovely idea...

She has challenged her mates to do 30 good deeds in the month of February. We will have to send her our daily or weekly roster of deeds which she will add onto her website, Facebook etc.

Lovely idea.. Lovely..

Except I fucking suck at good deeds! I regard not smashing a taxi driver in the face every morning a good deed. So if she counts that I am already ahead of everyone by 29 deeds.
That leaves me with one more to accomplish.. Now if only I can think of one..

Wish me luck!

End of a Chapter

I am angry. And bitter. And just a little bit jaded all over again. This time I thought it was real, and honest and secure. I felt safe. I felt loved. And I, for the first time, felt sexy and wanted. So what went wrong? I don’t fucking know. And I want to instinctively blame myself as we women are wont to do. But, this time, it was NOT my fault. And that just make me a little bit angrier because the final outcome of how this relationship ended was entirely out of my control.

I had it good this time round. It was a mature, healthy, loving relationship. I had never felt so safe and adored. Within the relationship itself I was great. Never been so giving, accommodating, supportive, passionate and in love. So sue me for thinking this was would stand the test of time.

But you see… No matter how ‘good” we are in a relationship, or how good we think the relationship is, anything can go wrong at any time. Unfortunately we can’t change how people feel, or how circumstances change. Sometime things happen that are just beyond our control and no matter how much we try to fix it, we can’t. And we have to accept this. But for a control freak like me, who likes to have most things as close to perfect as possible this is a bitter pill to swallow.

I have been working very hard at letting go, moving on, giving it over to God even. Day dreaming of that phone call where he says “Oh my god I have been such a horse’s ass! You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me! Come back to me now, or I will die!” But chicka, it aint happening. When my heart starts playing these fucked up games with my brain, my brain luckily kicks in and says “Wake UP dumbass!! You’re an intelligent, strong, funny as hell (she says that because she knows I like it), independent woman! This was not your fault! It’s the end of a chapter, not the end of the world, pick up a new book and carry on!” And then I am ok for a while again… I love my brain, she is one smart cookie.

So even though at this stage my brain is winning the fight against heartbreak, my heart, she is still broken. She is sad, and disappointed and confused. And I don’t know how to make her feel better. She misses his company, she misses being a couple, she misses her best friend… and while Brain tries to keep reminding her that there could be someone else out there, and that she can do things she couldn’t do before. Heart will whisper “But I loved him, I wanted him..” and she will jump at the sound of a BB message, and her pulse will rate whenever the phone rings.

Until enough time has passed. Then we can smile when we see him in the street because it is good to see him, and it doesn’t hurt any more. What happened has happened for a reason. People will come and go, they will teach you things, they might even make you better people. Like he did for me. But it doesn’t mean that they are here to stay, and it doesn’t mean it won’t hurt. It just means we have to learn from these comets, take what we can from the situation, learn our lessons and move on as savvier people.

So to the Avatar I must say.. Thank you for loving me the way you did, for the amount of time you could. You taught me that I can have a healthy and loving relationship, and things can still end, but it’s not always my fault (like I always believed in the past). You taught me empathy, patience and what the real meaning of strong was. I will never meet anyone like you again, and it was a joy to have shared in your miraculous life. Oh and shot for that teaching me all those tricks with the you-know-whats in the you-know-where.. You rocked at that and I will be forever grateful to have had it ssoo good for ssoo long! Sob…

Aaaahhh sweet!

How much does my son, the Wise Ass, love me? Apparently more that the entire uni-wors!

In Honour of Women's Day..

My life would be dead and incomplete without my circle of strength and trust; my girlfriends. I am lucky to have strong, loyal and honest woman in my life who ground me, make me laugh; help dry my tears and who give the most invaluable advice. I would be nothing without them.

Most women are blessed to have one or two of these wonderful friendships in their lifetime. My cup runneth over with not one, or two, but 6 best friends. Who also all know each other, and all get along fabulously. Our brunches, dinners and nights outs are more imaginatively debauched than Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte and Miranda’s could ever be.

We celebrate our children and share in each other’s pride. We respect each other’s relationships with our significant others (whether it be husband, boyfriend, or one night stand). We give each other love, support, advice, wine and chocolate. Sometimes in that order, sometimes the chocolate comes out for no reason at all besides the fact that it’s Tuesday. We spoil the pregnant, and we adore the babies. We mourn the losses and we help build each other back up after devastation.

There is no jealousy, and there is no back-biting or fighting. We are all very different women who enjoy the diversity of our group. We are married, single, co-habiting, divorced, with children, and without. And the honesty with which we treat each other always allow us room to talk about what’s bothering us, and we are not afraid to say the things to each other that we all sometimes desperately need to hear. It’s always an eye opener to view yourself, or something you did, through the eyes of someone else. And I for one appreciate that kind of truthfulness. It can help us stop making stupid mistakes all over again, it can help break bad habits and help us see our lives from a different perspective.

So to the wonderfully fabulous Girlz who make every day worth getting up for.. Thank you, I love you. You know who you are…

Things I will teach my son one day!

Things that giving birth to live young has taught me..

Don’t. Use protection. Save yourself the ordeal and go have a holiday instead.

In fact with what private hospitals cost these days you could have an off-your-face-awesome island getaway.

You won’t care that you will be losing control of your bladder and bowels in front of a room full of strangers. They just need to get the puffer fish that’s exploded in your cervix out NOW!

You will become a proud advocate for prescription drugs and will start referring to them, as Mick Jagger once did, as “Mother’s Little Helpers”.

You will be going back to school. Starting all the way back in Grade One, at the age of 30 something. And this time you may fail.. Also you will be surprised at the fact that you ever learnt to read at all in the first place.

You may never sleep again. In your entire life.

You know nothing.

You do have eyes in the back of your head, & supersonic hearing. Your sense of smell may fool you though. Because you will only detect the whiff of a runny guts diaper AFTER you have left the house, locked it behind you and strapped him into the car seat for a 5 hour car trip.

Labour is painful. Contractions hurt. And I can still remember the pain. Don’t let those hippy, drug-free, “no screaming in the theatre” moms fool you.

You will always worry that your child may become the next Adolf Hitler or Jeffrey Dahmer.

No one tells you how much a baby farts. It’s surprisingly quite a lot. And loud. It           may wake you from REM sleep.

Plastic takkies are fucking hot, and burn, after the come out of a 2 hour cycle in the tumble dryer.

Pet fish die at a rate of knots. Puppies last longer and cats will scare the bejesus outta you in the middle of the night.

That you would quite easily do it all again, if it meant that you could have the exact same sprog all over again…

Happy Birthday Wise One.. Thanks for making every day a pleasure and a pain. I love you a thousand, plus 1.

What do these cartoons have in common...

I can relate....

When the Wise One had his tonsils removed last year he recuperated in my room to watch cartoons.
When I came in to surprise him with some ice cream the surprise was on me! He was sitting on the bed, calmly massaging his neck with my large blue glittery Rabbit, named Jack Hammer!!
Trying NOT to panic I calmly asked "What you doing, love?" And he sighed a large sigh filled with years of weariness and said "Aaahh just massaging my neck mom.. It's so sore..".
I slowly put the bowl of ice cream down and faultered over what to say. Remembering Lofty had a muscle massager wand in the lounge I said "Umm, I think that one's batteries are dead. Why dont we try the one in the lounge, and put that one very far away.."
"Okay.." he said, pushed the right (?) button to switch it off and returned it to the drawer.

Am I a bad mother if the first thought that came into my head when I saw him was "Where the fuck is my camera??"