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Wacky Wine

This past weekend I went to the Wacky Wine festival in Robertson/Asthon/Bonnievale.

It is such an amazing festival because R100 gains you entry into all of the wineries in this area and you can taste whatever you like! Also the wineries try and out-dazzle each other, there are live performances and stalls and more food and wine than what you can ever consume! Definitely a festival of more’s.

I have not been to this festival in 3 years (as there was the small matter of me being knocked up) so I didn’t anticipate that it had gotten quite so large.

So popular has it become that when we wanted to go last year, we were unable to find any accommodation, and settled for booking for this year, at the lovely Karin’s on Main in Bonnievale.  So it was with great pleasure I dropped the kids of at Grandma and Grandpa’s for the weekend and hit the R62.

Perhaps it is was the anticipation, or  my age, but I must confess I was not quite as impressed with the festival as the past times.  Our accommodation was stunning, the rooms were smartly done, the food was good and the service was homely.  The wine was as good as it always is, but honestly, after overindulging at Locnville (they were hosted at the sumptuous Arrabella Wine Farm on Friday night, we were too fragile to do any real tasting for the remainder of the weekend.

In fact when sitting down to a quiet dinner on Saturday, next to the fire, while the rain was coming down in buckets, it was decided that we are at the age where we don’t have anything to prove, we may as well crawl into bed with a book and sleep in.

So at the end of the weekend I come away with two lessons.

1.  I am way too old to keep up with the Students; and

2. I DON’T HAVE TO…it is okay if I want to rather crawl into bed on a Saturday night with a nice book, and even if the only thing I did the whole weekend away from the kids was sleep, that too is okay, after three years of sleepless nights, I earned it!

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Puppies with Opposable Thumbs

I have been known to say that having a toddler is like having a puppy with opposable thumbs. Well having two toddlers is like owning a whole kennel full of puppies with opposable thumbs (oh and just to keep things interesting-there is an actual puppy in the mix that has a proclivity towards Woolworths soft and flexi leather pumps).
This weekend I  spent a very unhappy hour and a half looking for my car keys. Which, it seems, miraculously grew a pair of feet and pattered off all on its own, if the offspring’s version of events is to be believed.
I cross examined the oldest (3) and he swore up and down that he was innocent and had nothing to do with the abduction of said keys.
Unfortunately the youngest’s (1) entire vocabulary consists of “ta” and “light” so that was not going to be much help, although I did maniacally follow him around the house saying “ta my keys” which he thought was great fun.

I was so desperate that at one point I seriously considered teaching him sign language just so I can continue with the interrogation.

Eventually I gave up on the keys and decided to rather hunt for a dummy in order to put them to bed (at which point I was planning on drinking a large glass of wine-preferably in a sippy cup so that I can lie and bed and do it) and what do you know, instead of a dummy I found the keys…

Hidden at the back of their bookshelf behind their money box.

The husband of course says that this is my own fault as I never put them on the hook.  He can be grateful that he was on the other side of the safety gate when he said that.

I will never put my keys on the hook, it is just not who I am.  So please excuse me, I am off to the bookstore for a copy of  ”Baby Sign Language for Dummies).

xxx

Till next time…Don’t Panic (I am convinced they can smell it) and pour some more wine!

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World Forgiveness Day

27th August is World Forgiveness Day.

The aim of this initiative, according to what I can find, is to forgive the unforgivable. I am not so sure about that.

I am all for forgiveness, I try mostly, to forgive those who have wronged me, and I hope in turn those that I have wronged will forgive me.

But I have a question, when do we cross the fine line between forgiving someone repeatedly and being their doormat?

When can we say, okay this is enough, I am just enabling you to walk all over me, I am done now.

As Christians we are taught there should be no limit to the amount of times we forgive, after all we are not allotted a certain amount of “pardons”.  What my head says is something completely different though.  How does one marry the two?

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I am still alive…

I have been so bogged down with depression that I scarcely have any memory of the past couple of months post birth. I have gone in to hiding, only existing.

Breathing because I have to, looking after the kids because I have to and not doing much else except sleep. That I can manage. Lots and lots of sleep.

So off I went to my GP to get a prescription that is okay to use while breastfeeding, hoping that it will sort of drag me out of this quagmire, only to find that I have lost a month.  Seriously? A whole fecking month. Gone.

So it is back to the drawing board.

I have to decide what is more important.  My mental health or feeding my son?

I am really proud of the fact that I managed to get the breastfeeding thing right this time around.  It is my little life raft that makes me feel like I am not a complete failure as a mother. Call it my mantra if you will.  So now what?

I think I will go sleep on it.

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It’s been a while…

I know I have been playing hooky.

Might be a bit late, but I hope everyone had a good christmas and here’s to a prosperous year.
Let’s start this year with a bang, or rather a rub.  Just in case you need some help….

Dry Humping An Adequate Sex Alternative For Teens, Says Weird, Unsolicited Report From Department Of Interior

January 19, 2012 | ISSUE 48•03

The comprehensive dry-humping report, which nobody asked for.

WASHINGTON—According to Beltway sources, confused White House staffers arrived at their desks Wednesday to find a meticulously researched, entirely unrequested report from the Interior Department assessing dry humping as a suitable sex alternative for teenagers.

The uncomfortably in-depth 900-page document, which outlines the benefits of clothed genital stimulation versus fully penetrative sex, reportedly baffled administration officials, who confirmed they generally associate the department with its role in managing natural resources and administering programs for Native Americans.

“I find this all extremely odd, to say the least,” said White House deputy chief of staff Nancy-Ann DeParle, thumbing through a large three-ring binder emblazoned with the department’s American bison seal. “Reducing teen STD and pregnancy rates is important, of course, but this falls so far outside Interior’s purview that…well, I don’t even know how to respond to this, to be quite honest.”

“How could they possibly have found the time or funding for an in-depth study of dry humping?” DeParle added. “I’m certain we didn’t commission this.”

A copy of the report obtained by members of the press reveals it to be a heavily researched work that begins with a heartfelt, dry-sex-positive foreword by Interior Secretary Ken Salazar. Also included is a detailed history of the practice, from the Victorian-era practice of frottage—meaning “to rub”—to the modern teen trend of freaking or “sandwich dancing,” whereby two partners interlock legs and grind their genitals together in rhythm with popular music.

“The pantomiming of intercourse prior to the onset of mature sexual relationships is a phenomenon one observes in many cultures,” reads one section of the report. “It’s natural for budding, aroused adolescents to explore erogenous-zone stimulation with a partner, and when it comes to achieving physical gratification without disrobing, teens have many options available to them. Young males will even find that ejaculation is not uncommon.”

Another section, credited to the department’s Office of Surface Mining Reclamation and Enforcement, ranks the best places to engage in dry humping using a statistical “dry-pleasure coefficient,” or DPE—a new metric  the Department of the Interior developed solely for the report. The study indicates a soft couch in the finished basement of a mutual friend’s house has the highest-known DPE, making it the top location for fully clothed teens to vigorously mount each other.

The Interior Department, founded in 1849 to oversee federal land management, has never been responsible for dealing with adolescent sexuality in any official capacity.

“Comprehensiveness notwithstanding, it’s a little alarming that anyone over there knows this much about dry humping, whether anecdotally or through direct observation,” said White House communications director Dan Pfeiffer, referring to a section of the report that evaluates various ointments that can be used to treat chafed genitals following heavy friction. “For Christ’s sake, these people have 58 national parks to run.”

“And some of these studies go all the way back to 1995, so obviously they’ve been working on this for a while,” he continued. “By all outward indications, this looks to be a labor of love.”

Despite calling the report “unsettling” and “difficult to read for more than a few minutes at a time,” administration staffers acknowledged its conclusions were valid on the whole, and should be applauded for their objectivity and nonjudgmental tone. Sources said that aside from some of the more graphic and largely speculative sections on teen vibrator play contributed by the U.S. Geological Survey, much of the research might even be suitable for sex-education curricula.

Interior Department officials were summoned Wednesday afternoon to confirm authorship of the report, their first since a Jan. 6 brief on fluctuations in the seasonal wolf population of northern Wyoming.

“We’d be more than happy to further discuss any of our findings,” a department spokes­man said. “All questions can be directed to Secretary Salazar’s office.”

“But I think we’ve made our point,” he added.

Article by The Onion.

Thanks Ri for sending me this, really made my morning.

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Time flies when you are having fun

My *sis is graduating today.  I cannot believe it.

When I met my husband she was in grade four and still wore pigtails.  Where has the time gone?

I was reminiscing this morning that I bought her first miniskirt, and she refused to wear it because it was too short. In fact she made her mom return it to the store for a bigger size so that it would sit lower and thus be longer.  Now, well perhaps I am just an old fuddy duddy, but she wears skirts that I would classify as a belt.

In the wink of an eye she is all grown up and wearing her graduation gown in a couple of hours.

Sis I am so incredibly proud of you!

Much love

xxx

*Sister-in-law

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Heart friends

It has been a very emotional couple of months for me.  There has been drama at work, drama at home and all these little things that keep on piling up that make me want to crawl into a hole and never come out of it.  I have been retreating further and further to lick my wounds.  I try and smile and pretend that everything is okay, when really it couldn’t be further from the truth.

My whole life I have felt like an impostor, like I don’t belong.

I live in fear that I will be unmasked, to be shown to be the social leper that I really am and shunned for it.  It is probably due to some deep-seated self-esteem issues, but for the life of me I cannot think why anyone would want to spend time with me and I am deeply suspicious when they do, because I am always waiting for the other shoe to drop. <I sound coo-coo for coco-puffs right?>

I have a hand full of friends that somehow managed break through this layer of worthlessness and doubt that I have built around me, and in truth they were the ones that has kept me standing the past couple of months.  This post is dedicated to them, to thank them for being there, my silent crutches that swooped up and picked me up when I felt I could no longer continue. I truly love you all.

I was amazed that one of these friends, in her quiet manner, seemed to see right into heart of me.

Due to her personal circumstances she was not able to see me for my birthday and only managed to wish me a happy birthday yesterday.  She gave me the best gift I have ever received.  The gift itself was simple, a book on how generosity changes one’s life and a compact mirror, but the message behind it moved me to tears.

The book, she said reminded her of me, of how I care and try to help others.

The mirror was because I needed to be reminded  just how beautiful I am.

I sobbed like a baby.  It wasn’t pretty at all. There were snot bubbles.  It was just what I needed.

I am no good at speaking my mind that is why I write. So, without further ado:

Thank you M for being there, for listening, even though you are going through a trying time yourself and needed me more than I you. You are a true friend and made me realise that no matter how dark it gets out there, there are still people that bring light into our lives and it is on them that we can (and should) count. Thank you for shining and inspiring me to do the same. I ♥ you.