Turn Me On - The Fray

I dunno what it is about this song.. I just does things to my happy place. I can listen to it again and again, and often do. Hahhaa.. I am sure I will be sick of it soon the way I am OCD'ing on it.

Who are you to judge?

Recently there was an article on News24 from a woman who calls herself the FridaFactor, called "I am a racist". Most of you will remember it, it went viral quite quickly. So I went to her blog and read some more of her stuff as I felt the article was spot on. She had said out loud a lot of what a lot of South Africans think about that topic, but wont voice. I thought "Bravo".

Then I got to an entry called "Where have all the real men gone?" and my blood ran cold! This is a woman with a partner and a child, and this is what she thought of women raising men! How archaic and undeserving we are to have received this judgement. So I replied to her post............

"After sharing your "I am Racist" post all over my Facebook & twitter, after sharing your inspirational blogs with my girlfriends, I am disappointed and disgusted to read your "Where have all the real men gone".

I am a single mom, and no I don't have to ask myself why I am upset, and wonder if I am scarring my son.. I am, as BOTH my still married parents scarred me. It's what parents do, it's a rite of passage, it's how we learn to do things better our turn around. I do not hate men, and I don't raise my son with any agenda to right the wrongs of hurts past.In fact I love men, and I love sex, and I can't wait to find a good man to share it with. Until then I will stand at the rugby field, at the side of the swimming pool, and at the fence of the tennis court, and wait patiently in the clubhouse for my son to finish his golf lesson. When he falls and hurts himself I will tell him to get up and walk it off. If he needs to learn to fish I will recruit an uncle or cousin to do so. I let him watch action movies, and ride his bike in the streets! He is very much a man's man, and I did that all by myself. A woman! A single mom!!! So don't sit there and judge and generalize, and throw generic accusations just to make yourself heard. Instead of blaming moms being to soft on their sons, ask yourself why those particular women choose to do that??

I am mature enough to realize that relationships end, and circumstances change. And so we get on with our lives, and stop laying blame at everybody elses feet. And I know that not all men are the same, and that I have more good relationships to look forward to. And this I teach my son. Treat all people kindly, and with respect, until they prove themselves unworthy of it. Be kind to animals. Admire beauty in the world, whether it be a pretty girl or an awesome skateboard maneuver, or even a flower. That does not make him a fop. It makes him a caring individual. And it doesn't make me an overbearing, pussy whipping mother.

It's always hard to be tough on your child, but I do that because he is a boy. And how I raise him worries me every day, and I hope to god that I do right by him. Then you come, and you judge me, and you make unfair statements, which are not even true to my situation. Yet they hurt, and they erode just a teensy bit of my mothering confidence, because now I wonder where this came from for you, and am I doing the right thing, and am I a good enough mother??? All this, just because you couldn't keep one ugly, unfair, unsubstantial claim of knowledge to yourself.

Thank you for telling me that as a single mom to a boy I am already disadvantaging him. Even though staying with his dad, to make him the "man" you want him to be, would mean a lifetime of unhappiness for all of us. And no, my ex is not a bad man, and we are still friends, and I did not end up as a resentful bitter women who is now out to teach all men a lesson starting with my own flesh and blood!

As a mother yourself, don't you feel you are being unfair. Just because you have a daughter it makes your situation better and easier than mine? Would it be better for me to give up my child to a someone who can't care for him as a child should be looked after at this stage, JUST because he has a penis and I don't? What kind of mother gives up her child for that reason alone in any case?

Like I said. I may have a son, and I may have a vagina.. But it means fuck all at the end of the day when you are doing a proper job of raising whatever gender child you have. If you make the choice to go it on your own, then already you have chosen to step up to the plate, and do what needs to be done.

The very same argument could be made for inter-racial adoptions. What does the one race know about raising the other? Or would asking you to write about that make me racist?"

A day at Goose Beach is never a walk in the Park!

My dad has this saying for me.. He says ‘Chantelle, if it wasn’t for shit luck, you’d have no luck at all my girl!” And he is right. I am not one of those people that happen to have things fall in their lap, men at their feet, fabulous jobs being thrown at them, cars that always work.. Life seems to test me at every turn. I have learnt this lesson from an early age, and learnt to cope, adjust and compromise as I go. I can literally make a plan for any situation! Because I have been through them all. So when clock strike of 2012 came around I yelled out and declared my prophesy to the world (well at least those in Albatross Street)! That 2012 was going to be MY year! A year for me to change direction, find love, get a great job, and turn my son into the best kid on the planet!

Life turned around and said “Oh yeah?? Really? You’re being a bit cocky, we’ll show you!”

So even though we are only 4 months in I have had to eat my words, & endure extreme highs and almost devastating lows. And most nights I am physically tired from fighting, what I feel, is and ongoing uphill battle just to survive! Yet I can’t sleep because I worry too much about what, when and the greatest question of all “WHY ME?” AGAIN!!”. But I awake the next morning ready to start again. It’s a clean slate for the time being. I am a pro circuit surfer on the waves that is my life. And every day I see how strong I can be, how well I cope with what I get handed, and how efficiently I can rationalize the drama and overcome it. And I know for a lot of people that that’s not easy. And I am grateful that it’s something I can do without medication or therapy. I didn't say I couldn’t do it without my wine though.

So the lows so far…

I was in my first accident in 15 years! And no there was zero alcohol or giving of blow jobs involved! A ridiculous fender bender, which left my poor Rckstar with R27000’s worth of damage!! Poor baby.. Which would have been fine enough, if the fucking insurance company, and panelbeater, hadn’t tried to screw me over in the process! I spent two month sending snotty emails, making hundreds of unanswered calls, and complaining to the National Consumer Commission AND the Insurance Ombudsman. To no avail I might add, so don’t bother. Only to go fetch my baby and have her presented to me with a broken windscreen! After many more emails, phone calls and temper tantrums, and another 4 weeks, I finally had that replaced on the original claim.

Then 24 hours before I was due to appear in court for the finalization of my divorce, my lawyer’s offices try to tell me I need to pay the account in full or they will remove my case from the roll. This, 3 weeks after I received my first bill from them, after a year of being their client. Needless to say he got a piece of my mind too. Within 24 hours he saw things my way, of course, and I was able to get into court.

And last week I had to play Nancy Drew when my son's very expensive toys went missing from his bedroom. Thanks to my investigative skills, and awesome letter writing abilities, I managed to track said items down to a house down the road and go and fetch them! Never mess with a mother!

On the lank kiff side…

I have decided to stop procrastinating and follow my dreams! I signed up for a year long photographic diploma, and I am in 7^th heaven doing what I have wanted to since a teenager. For the first time in years I have a serious hobby (which I hope will turn into something more professional), and I am spending money on myself because of it. For the first time in years I have goals and hopes and dreams. And even though it’s all a bit scary in this unknown territory (I am so used to putting everyone else first), I am fighting through because it’s something I really want. Already my efforts are being rewarded and it makes me want to do more and more! My photos came in 1^st and 2^nd place in a competition I entered in a local business magazine, and I won two very nice cameras, plus a course in digital photography which I have always wanted to do. Then recently at our Town’s Annual Show 2 more of my photos were awarded first place, in different categories. These 2 achievements have shown me I am on the right track, and that I need to keep on keeping on.

Then besides that my baking has really taken off! Who knew so many people wanted cake! Besides me of course.. Hahhaaa.. I am having so much fun creating it amazes me! Me? After spending years telling everyone “I wish I was creative, I wish I could make things!” I am doing things I would never have seen myself doing 5 years ago, and that makes me proud of myself, and my accomplishments. And trust me it’s been a very long time since I have felt pride in myself at all.

And finally, after 4 years of separation, my divorce is finalized! I said please and thank you and all I remember the judge saying was “The court declares the bonds of marriage dissolved”. Right there and then I could have French kissed that fat, grey, 60 year old man, given a triumphant fist pump and skipped out that court room.

So in conclusion...

I have always said “Life is too short to be doing anything except that which makes you happy”, but I have never put it into practice in my own life until now. And it’s true. Every day we age a little more, every day we have lost time, and every day we could miss an opportunity that we can’t get back. Unfortunately I am not getting any younger, and I am scared I am going to turn around one day and say “If only I had…”. And I don’t want that. I want to be able to look back and say “Remember when…”

So, despite 2012 starting off as dog’s balls, I have very high expectations of myself, and this year.

PS: If you’re wondering why I haven’t elaborated on my son’s training, it’s because even though that is a constant struggle, and battle of wits (unfortunately he is a smart ass like his mother), I don’t worry too much about him. What I am doing works, he is an amazing, smart, funny, gorgeous, awesome, loveable kid, and I couldn’t be prouder of him if I tried.

VD anyone?

I can list countless cliche'd reasons why I hate Valentine's Day..

I can blame consumerism, and say it's just one day and we should spend everyday telling the one we love that we love them. I can say that it's a Hallmark holiday created to sell cheap chocolate wrapped in coloured foil.
I can say the snogging couples at every turn make me want to physically abuse something.

But I wont. Because I will be honest. I hate Valentine's Day because I am alone, and maybe just a little bitter at being jaded, by the romantic notion of love, by a countless number of disappointing relationships.

I want to believe. I do.. I want to expect the card in the post from the secret admirer, the anonymously sent flowers at the office so all your colleagues can see, or sharing a box of my favourite cacoa delicacy on the couch, wrapped around someone fabulous. But that little bubble popped for me years ago.. I am now cynical, and pessimistic even though I don't want to be. I will spend the day mocking those that do all the traditions, I will post anti-vd cartoons on my facebook, buy my own chocolate (and eat it all myself, probably whilst on my new exercise bike) and go to bed with my vibrator (because in celebration I did buy Him a new battery at least).

But then again maybe, just maybe, one day someone will change all that for me.
That's what hope does you see, it floats..

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…