tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50594896309084428932024-03-19T14:39:32.016+02:00Being B...Benitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17022452641189800469noreply@blogger.comBlogger105125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059489630908442893.post-56930594617811444662017-03-15T15:38:00.000+02:002017-03-15T15:38:11.723+02:00Ek dink dit is tydVir die afgelope twee jaar het ek soos die spreekwoordelike skilpad in my dop weg gekruip, terug getrek en weg gesteek van dinge om my, want party keer is dit net makliker, maar daar is 'n tyd, en ek dink dit is nou tyd.<br />
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Gister, skielik uit die bloute het een van die Biekies in trane uitgebars en baie hartseer vir my vertel hoe baie word Ouma gemis en na haar verlang, maar dat hulle nie van ouma wil praat nie, want as hulle wel doen, dan word hulle hartseer. En sonder om te dink daaroor of filosofies te wou raak, het ek verduidelik dat ons almal haar nog verskriklik baie mis, en verskriklik baie na haar verlang, en dat ons almal nogsteeds dae het waar onsself nog maar baie hartseer oor haar is, en dis toe wat ek begin verduidelik dat ons juis dan, as ons so baie verlang en hartseer is, van haar moet praat, en oor haar moet gesels, en al die lekker en goeie dinge moet onthou. Want hoe meer ons kan regkry om dit te doen, hoe meer gaan dit hopenlik help teen die hartseer en verlange. En na die tyd, toe ek weer daaroor sit en dink, toe besef ek dat ek dit self moet doen, dat ek moet ophou baklei teen die hartseer, en eerder die lekker en goeie moet onthou, en dit moet gebruik om my te help baklei teen die verlange.<br />
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Ek dink dit is tyd, om weer uit my dop te kruip, te aanvaar dat nie elke dag maklik gaan wees nie, maar dat die son tog weer skyn. Ek weet ek gaan nog gereeld my "battles" hê waarteen ek gaan baklei, maar elke aand as ek vir die sterre daar bo kyk, weet ek dat ek nog 'n dag oorleef het.<br />
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<br />Benitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17022452641189800469noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059489630908442893.post-2902345379081807662015-08-27T10:25:00.001+02:002015-08-27T10:25:44.568+02:00Please just let me breathe<p dir="ltr">Days will go by where I am fine, days where I do not cry or have an uncontrollable urge to huddle in a little heap and snarl at someone, days where I smile at the world and it's people, days where I feel comfortable.<br>
But then, everything will change in an instant, the burning hole in my chest will burst open, raging, I suffocate, no matter how hard and how deep I try to breathe. The pain suck you in, no matter how hard you fight.<br>
No matter how hard you prepare yourself against this feeling, it does not get better and it sure as hell does not get easier.<br>
The pain of loosing someone is a deep, dark, devouring beast, always there, always lingering, and staring at you, readybto shred you to pieces when you least expect it...leaving you hurting, leaving you broken</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDL1R-AoswfHCEX7iLKT_TsGfwrbK2MpPTVDTUAWN39-tlcrSTo0218o_MD5shFVhqt4z_yIcDMP0ieXJW9oBo1snnj-gkROTFGPVY_maHo-wrHnY6CzcrEI3Uy0rg2eLKW_OK_Wtwzz21/s1600/IMG_20150623_141949.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDL1R-AoswfHCEX7iLKT_TsGfwrbK2MpPTVDTUAWN39-tlcrSTo0218o_MD5shFVhqt4z_yIcDMP0ieXJW9oBo1snnj-gkROTFGPVY_maHo-wrHnY6CzcrEI3Uy0rg2eLKW_OK_Wtwzz21/s640/IMG_20150623_141949.jpg"> </a> </div>Benitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17022452641189800469noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059489630908442893.post-67688322300362543972014-01-20T13:35:00.001+02:002014-01-20T13:35:56.703+02:00My HCG journey..<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhylH2Q-etYuBiKU-XFUgCoYyNJwPVCEhnBAzSJJCCr2dg1tazB1mXR-6CZeQ2TM5KMc87pmQWUm5QCeM8E8H9B6-y5kP5voTYGEfYNWscxg2uiVP8bMUbAzIHJ8_0weTHrUSTCGYE7mGIv/s1600/20131014184138586.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" closure_lm_854232="null" cua="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhylH2Q-etYuBiKU-XFUgCoYyNJwPVCEhnBAzSJJCCr2dg1tazB1mXR-6CZeQ2TM5KMc87pmQWUm5QCeM8E8H9B6-y5kP5voTYGEfYNWscxg2uiVP8bMUbAzIHJ8_0weTHrUSTCGYE7mGIv/s1600/20131014184138586.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the left : 31/08/2013 On the right : 14/10/2013</td></tr>
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For as long as I can remember, I struggled with my weight, maybe because the boy I dated when I was 16 told me that my thighs were fat, not that I was overweight at all at that time, but somewhere deep inside in stuck, and refuse to let go... After my pregnancies, things just went totally overboard, to a point where I really did not care anymore. <br />
That was until I saw a picture of myself at my cousin's wedding last year and I realised I am heading on a self-destruction path, and it is a path where only I can change the destination, and there and then I decided that I need to stop and re-think things a little. <br />
I was introduced to the HCG Program by a dear friend. At first I was scared and unsure, I doubted in my ability to take on this challenge and succeed. But then I realised that I am not doing this for anybody else but myself. And I also realised that this is not just a diet or a miracle cure, no, this is a life style change. <br />
You see, that is where millions of people make the mistake, cause so many people start following a “diet”, start eating healthy (and maybe do a bit of exercise) but as soon as they lose those unwanted kg’s and reach their target weight, they stop with the healthy eating, they stop with the exercise and plunge back in the deep dark pool of unhealthy living. They jump back to the take-away’s and burgers and chips and chocolates, and over-stuff their faces. And yes, by doing that you will gain back all the weight you have lost and some more. <br />
A healthy lifestyle is not just about doing a crash course diet to lose a few pounds and be happy with that, no, a healthy lifestyle means making better and healthier choices that will only be an advantage not only to yourself but to your health as well. It means spending more time with friends and family in the outdoors..forget about your phone...forget about the tv...get your ass of that damm couch and set foot outside, shock your brain with some fresh air. And the myth that eating healthier means you need to spend more time in the kitchen is a load of bull. No you do not need to spend more time in the kitchen, you only need to learn to plan your meals smarter, when making supper, make a little bit extra, cause by doing that, you will have lunch for the next day. Keep a bottle of water on your desk to make sure you drink water on a more regular basis. Take a walk around the block (for me this is a little bit easier as we live in a small rural community where there is not that much crime, so I can actually go for a walk when I get home after work in the week, and on week-ends, I wake up before the rest of the house and go for a walk) I have found that going for these walks actually help me clear my head much more that I would have thought it would do, it helps me focus and get everything back into perspective. It is my “me time”. <br />
By changing my lifestyle, eating habits and doing the HCG Program, I have managed to lose 12kg’s and an overall loss of 3.5 cm’s, and I feel great! <br />
I have managed to regain some of my confidence in myself again. I can actually look into a mirror without being disgusted. But by reaching this goal, I have not stopped, I still try and eat as healthy as possible (yes I still allow myself to indulged in the no-so-healthy-things-in-life) and I still try and be as active as possible. And by doing this I have managed to keep my weight steady. <br />
So yes, this is possible, but you have to take that first step, you have to make that decision for yourself and you have to dedicate yourself and realise that this is not a quick fix, you have to realise that this is a lifestyle change, cause as soon as you do that, everything becomes very simple and easy. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif7rJbvBTxDdavYhA0cTLptJm1Y3BYbUa6xCTWHy-2etpR8qfY4ZEXIrf9XYciAcoCKyy8MxdPLF_ny-4RGVxPNeZeYQlUKplzqbdNzvkxSt4QERCIiYX_9a5wMEEUWFWheMZIFlN1udix/s1600/20131117213538369.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" closure_lm_854232="null" cua="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif7rJbvBTxDdavYhA0cTLptJm1Y3BYbUa6xCTWHy-2etpR8qfY4ZEXIrf9XYciAcoCKyy8MxdPLF_ny-4RGVxPNeZeYQlUKplzqbdNzvkxSt4QERCIiYX_9a5wMEEUWFWheMZIFlN1udix/s1600/20131117213538369.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the left : 23/09/2013 On the right : 17/11/2013</td></tr>
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Benitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17022452641189800469noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059489630908442893.post-26322663769139314912013-06-06T15:23:00.000+02:002015-08-14T09:28:51.629+02:00Only miss the sun when it starts to snow…I have totally neglected my blog lately, it has (and still is) been hectic trying to keep all the schedules running smoothly…it’s been hectic just to keep them running, never mind smoothly, but we are getting there.<br />
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Life is not always warm and fuzzy, but we development different coping mechanisms to get us through those moment and carry on, carry on as if nothing is wrong….just carry on.<br />
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The other night we were watching an episode of “How I met your mother” and Lilly told Ted that there were days where she wished that she was not a mother (and no, she did not mean it in a bad way), that she could just pack her bags and get away from it all. She told him that before she got pregnant, painting was her passion, that she would spend hours on end painting, but since the baby was born, she had not touched a paintbrush. <br />
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And somehow I could relate to her statement, we all get to a point in our lives where we just want to pack our bags and get away from it all, and just for a few moments allow ourselves to take a deep breath.<br />
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There are days where it really feels as if Lady Luck turned her back, where I cannot feel her warm smile beam from her face. Days where I battle with each step I take, where I battle to remind myself that the sun will shine again. And it is times like these where I feel unappreciated, where it feels as if all that I do is in vain, where is does not matter to those around me, as if it is self-evident that only I am responsible for the things that need to be done.<br />
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I want to climb onto my soapbox and make myself heard, make sure that they know exactly how I feel, but I don’t…I keep quiet, not wanting to sound unappreciative of what I have and those I love, and those feelings become a subconscious battle between myself and I. Because in my mind I can not hurt others with my words, and I can not speak without thinking, so I keep on fighting with myself, arguing about these things over and over again, till finally I am emotionally exhausted and I let it go, drifting away like a little paper boat on a raging river, watching as the raging rapids bash the little boat from side to side until it finally drifts slowly to the bottom of the river, gone and forgotten.<br />
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I was never good at dealing with my feelings, and I have never successfully learned to master the technique. And I don’t like talking about my feelings, maybe in my mind I feel that talking about your feelings makes you a weakling, it show your weaknesses to the world, which will allow it to step on you, to kick when you are already down. If I keep it to myself, nobody can take a kick or a bash at me, they will just leave me alone. Alone is not always that bad, it allows me to struggle and unravel things in my mind, help me understand things a bit better, helps me understand myself better.<br />
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But my mind is a babbling mess, uncontrollable chaos. I wish there was just a small fraction of a moment where I can escape to, just leave everything behind, forget about things that need to be done, forget about responsibilities, just sit by myself and wallow in self-pity.<br />
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But the sun will shine again tomorrow <br />
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Benitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17022452641189800469noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059489630908442893.post-5365873146780233442013-02-05T10:11:00.001+02:002015-08-14T09:31:24.261+02:00Season Greetings and New Year’s Blessings<br />
My wish for all of you is a merry, blessed and fruitful 2013!<br />
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Our festive season included the following : <br />
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• Littlest meeting the sea, sandy shores and crashing waves for the first time, and she could not stop giggling while doing so<br />
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• Biekies soaking up every last bit of said sea, sandy shores and crashing waves, making pretty sure they leave nothing behind to be regretted later</div>
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• They hopped, skipped and jumped from one rock to another, carefully inspecting the rock pools, observing it’s inhabitants, amazed by the little creatures that could be found<br />
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• We took a trip to Stilbaai to visit the well-known Fresh Water Spring and it’s eel- residents which can be found at the Stilbaai Tourism Bureau and Museum</div>
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• We visited granddad’s workplace, where H got a ride in one of their very BIG John Deere thingies…he was ecstatic to say the least, where as Z preferred to observe it all from the safety of her mamma’s hip<br />
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• And then, the big highlight of the entire holiday…..littlest impatiently awaiting the arrival of Father Christmas!!</div>
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But this year our Christmas Story was slightly different than the previous :</div>
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‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house</div>
Biekies was stirring, scaring even the mouse<br />
Santa phoned, not once, not twice but trice<br />
Asking if the children are being naughty or nice<br />
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Grandpa told us the story<br />
Of Santa and all the Christmas Glory<br />
Eyes began to sparkle and smiles grew wide<br />
As Biekies sat listening, side by side<br />
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Over the mountains and through the valleys he came<br />
Calling each reindeer by their name<br />
But in Oudshoorn he had to make a quick stop<br />
As reindeer grew exhausted and was about to drop<br />
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He exchanged his reindeers and sleigh<br />
For a big-ass motorbike on which he could cruise the highway<br />
He requested that only a glass of milk be left outside <br />
with no time to spare, he could only drop, drink and ride<br />
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Far in the distance, we heard a rumble, we heard a noise, <br />
and as we opened the front door….oh the joys!<br />
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There was excitement and laughter and smiles<br />
Making it all truly worthwhile!!!…..<br />
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We really enjoyed our holiday, although it was a bit short, but hey, who am I to complain. We got to see a different side of Z, as if we got to know her a little bit better, being apart for almost 11 hours a day can be difficult on any parent-child relationship. She is such an amazing little person, and some days we really do underestimate her, but this holiday she proved to be a very clever, brave, energetic littlest person.</div>
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I have been pondering on this subject for a few days now, and have once again managed to force my foot into my mouth and down my throat about this, and the wrong person got stuck in the crossfire. And yes, I am truly sorry for tipping the apple cart upside down, but please try and see all of this through my eyes, try and understand…. (And might I not be stoned for speaking my mind on my blog)</div>
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Whilst on vacation I had some time to rekindle my love for my camera and photography, and I was once again reminded how much I love doing it, it is my passion and something I feel really strong about. I don’t take photos just because it is one more photo to be filed on the computer and forgotten about, I take photos because for me each and every photo I take is soaked with love and precious memories. I don’t mind sharing my photos but then I wish to be the one sharing them with everyone. </div>
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And who would have though that one year passed since <a href="http://2bme-benita.blogspot.com/2012/01/first-of-many.html" target="_blank">this</a>….<br />
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H passed Gr. 0 with an amazing report and a very good assessment, and we proceeded with our preparations for Gr. 1 this year.<br />
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Dressed in a neatly ironed school uniform (exclude the shoes as they do not fit at all anymore), lunch packed, stationary marked and backpack ready, we started the new school year with great anticipation. And a few weeks’ later things have been going good, so I am one very happy mamma!<br />
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And some more exciting times to come for us as family. My little baby sister is getting married!! Oh jippie! We have been waiting for this for so long. She went through some pretty trying times these last couple of months, and have been blessed with a wonderful fiancé, they adore each other, and I am so proud of her! <br />
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As most things in this life, a marriage is not “born” perfect, but through hard work and perseverance it is possible to create the most beautiful and perfect relationship and marriage. And if one remembers to include communication, love, trust and mutual respect, you have indeed a winning formula!<br />
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<br />Benitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17022452641189800469noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059489630908442893.post-9034332268779217102012-12-18T16:18:00.001+02:002015-08-14T09:38:11.406+02:00It's all just peachy....or so they sayLife cannot always be perfect and smooth sailing, which we all know. There are days where we are short tempered; we snap at one another, we take the crap until we cannot do it any more.<br />
The dam will slowly start overflowing, the walls will start creaking and cracking, until finlly it can not hold anymore, and it will burst with fury, sending raw emotion upon raw emotion rushing through the gaping hole, allowing itself to empty from all the pressure.<br />
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I started writing this post , not really knowing what to say, I'm going tgrough a stage of frustration and all I could think about is how mad I currently was at things. But then hubby sends me a link, and it broke me down in tears...<br />
As a mother and wife, you reach a stage in your life where you feel as if you have become invisible to your husband and children...<br />
The lady in the link explained how she realised more and more and with each day passing that she was turning into that "invisible lady" to her family, as if they noticed her less and less, to a point where she started feeling "pretty darn pathetic". Then she received a from a friend returning from her travels through England, a book about 'The Great Cathedrals of Europe', and she did not understand why until she read the inscription her friend wrote on the inside of the cover : <br />
"With admiration for the greatness that you are building when no one sees"<br />
"You can't name the names of the people that build the Great Cathedrals, over and over again looking at the immense works, you scan down to find the names, and it says : "Builder : Unknow". They completed things not knowing that anyone would notice.<br />
There is a story about one of the builders who was carving a tiny bird inside a beam that would be covered over by a roof, and someone came up to him and said "Why are you spending so much time on something no one will ever see". And it was reported that the builder replied : "Because God sees". They trusted that God saw everything. <br />
They made personal sacrifices for no credit.<br />
One writer even goes so far as to say that no Great Cathedrals will ever be build again because so few people are willing to sacrifice to that degree."<br />
It is at this point where I realised...God sees us! We are not invisible to Him! No sacrifice is to small for Him to notice, He smiles over everyone and He notices every tear of disappointment when things don't go the way we want them to go. But remember, we are building Great Cathedrals.<br />
"At times, being invisible might feel like an infliction, but it should not be a disease erasing our lives, it is the cure for the disease of self-centredness, it is the antidote to our own pride."<br />
So let's do it right, let's do it well, let's build those Great Cathedrals, not for ourselves, not for them, but for Him that sees...<br />
Let's also take a moment and think of those whose lives are currently engulfed by pain, sorrow and loss. Let's take a moment and say a prayer for them, let's allow our love and compassion to carry them through these difficult times. Let's be grateful for those small moments, because we never know when that moment might be the last one. To all those who suffer loss after the Sandy Hook Elementary School tragedy, we pray for you, we are sorry, deeply sorry for your loss and pain.<br />
May their memories always live forth...they are and they always will be!<br />
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Benitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17022452641189800469noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059489630908442893.post-1661150375320498412012-12-04T11:40:00.001+02:002015-08-14T09:39:10.073+02:00Start of a closing chapter…<br />
In all honesty, I am not in a mood for work, not at all! I would rather be home, over-dosing on Christmas Decorations and doing nothing, might even throw in a Christmas Carols CD or two (just because I can)…sounds good to me<br />
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Every shop window, street corner, lamp pole and advertisement booklet in the paper is proudly decorated with all things Christmassy…<br />
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(and it is <a href="http://www.2bme-benita.blogspot.com/2011/12/tis-season.html" target="_blank">this</a> time of the year again….oh happy happy, unfortunately we did not attend this year due to bad weather, rain and thunderstorms)</div>
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We fast approached the 1st of December, the 1st of the last month of the year, time to start preparation for the end of the year…or what ever or which ever way around. I struggle to decide whether I should speed up things that need to be done, or just slow down and ease into things.</div>
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We decided to take a long-awaited and well deserved vacation this year, which I am very excited about, cause this will be the first time we take Z to the sea (shame on us, I know!). I can already feel the sand beneath my feet and between my toes, the saltiness sticking to my skin, waves crashing, sea mist on my face, sea gulls squawking…man oh man…it’s gonna be good I tell you! </div>
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This vacation will also allow us some quality family time together, something that took a bit of neglect recently, which is not even excusable, cause yes, sadly life turned demanding and filled with hurriedness. (H’s latest catch phrase in the mornings : “Mom, are we late for school again?”)<br />
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Keeping a good balance in life can be a daunting task, keeping that perfect balance can be so difficult, and focus can be lost so easily. But sometimes it takes just that little bit of extra effort, that one minute extra, a quick conversation, and sometimes no words are needed at all, a hug can mean the world to a person, appreciated more than a 1000 words. But we all need that yin-yang balance, although it might be a bit crooked at times, it still needs to be there. We will always find a way to make it work, to get that balance back, don’t know how, but we manage to do it, maybe it is programmed into our subconscious and kicks in when the brain waves goes all over the place…something like that<br />
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So, no matter what makes your yin-yang tick, just find that special something and yang away!<br />
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P.S : This was my 100th post as well...<br />
<br />Benitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17022452641189800469noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059489630908442893.post-81891839833502561242012-11-21T09:37:00.001+02:002015-08-14T09:39:28.912+02:00I’m pregnant….and then not….<br />
Ok, so I had Biology in high school till matric, I loved drawing single cell organisms, but never could biology prepare me for the fact that the human body can be mysterious and strange…very, very strange.<br />
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I missed Aunt Flo, I’m never late, maybe a few days early, but never late. And when I’m late, I know the writing is on the wall. So this time I knew something was cooking. <br />
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I did an HPT…and waited…and waited…and waited…I waited for half an hour…and there was nothing, not even ONE line, never mind two. So I got this confused looked from hubby as he asked me “What does that mean?” Uhm, in all honesty, I don’t know… I have done about 8 or 9 HPT’s in my lifetime, and never before did I get a “nothing” result, most of my previous results have been 2 lines and the odd one here and there was a 1 liner, but never a “nothing”.<br />
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So I chucked the HPT in the bathroom dustbin and went to my mom’s for a visit, but when we got back home, my curiosity got the better of me, and there I was with my hand down the dustbin, digging around for the HPT…when I finally got hold of it, it was telling me a completely different story…there on the little screen where 2 very distinct pink lines….<br />
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Two pink lines are not that bad, we have talked about maybe expanding the Biekie-bunch with maybe one more…but soon the initial excitement was drowned by fears and “what if…”. <br />
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I have not yet came to a point where I can forgive myself for failing as a mother when I had to go for the D&C last year September, I don’t think I will ever be able to do so. As a mother I was suppose to protect my littlest with every inch and every part of my body and soul…and I could not do it…I failed myself and I failed the littlest.<br />
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So how will I be able to reassure myself this time around that I will not falter and fail again? How will I be able to protect when I’m not able to trust and forgive myself…the turmoil of emotions where endless and ongoing<br />
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Made an appointment with the Gynea for the following Monday. I walked into his office and sat down in front of his desk, he asked me the general “so you think you’re pregnant” questions, after which his showed me to the examination room. I walked into the room, the glare from the florescent light a bit overwhelming as I lay down on the bed and waited. The doctor came in, pulled up my shirt a bit and tucked that little blue cloth into the top of my pants. I felt the cold jelly being squirted onto my belly, a familiarity for me and my tummy. The probe was swishing around on my tummy, examining every inch of my womb…but all I was left with was a barren image….<br />
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Ok, so this is called hysterical pregnancy (just don’t know hysterical in which way), and dates as far back as Mary, Queen of England or something…. apparently this can also be described as purely psychological, and is mostly common in dogs and mice (Any further explanation needed???)<br />
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My brain told my body to prepare for something that there was nothing to prepare for. Is this my body, mind and soul rebelling? <br />
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This time around I am fine, I am really, really fine. It is just like waking up from a very realistic dream. <br />
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But I gave this a long hard thought, and maybe we should call this quits… We have two beautiful Biekies, of which we are very proud off and whom we love dearly. May I should take a moment to stop and count my blessings, be thankful for what I have and rather concentrate on that for now <br />
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Benitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17022452641189800469noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059489630908442893.post-17470303696285886842012-11-07T12:11:00.000+02:002015-08-14T09:39:56.709+02:00THAT kind of Mom… (Consolidation post)<br />
Yes, well apparently I am THAT kind of mom… (The kind that does numerous blog postings, saves them on her flash drive, but never get to the point where she actually posts them on her blog….)<br />
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the mom that always forgets to send the signed documentation and correspondence back to school in time;<br />
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the mom that will ALWAYS forget something (either being shoes, ok ok, mostly shoes) at someone’s house; </div>
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but most of all, I am that kind of mom that will always forget to RSVP on time…ALWAYS! <br />
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No matter how many reminders there are of the RSVP date, somehow I manage to miss them all and will only remember 2 or 3 days after the RSVP should have happened.</div>
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A week or so ago I received a phoned call from a rather distressed grandma asking whether H will be attending her grandson’s party that Saturday…and once again I realised that I forgot to RSVP…<br />
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Apparently being organised and punctual is soooo not my OCD. Sadly I do not even try and hide the fact that I am a scatter-brain (mainly due to the fact that it is quite obvious). And maybe this is reason enough for why I opted for 2 C-section rather than normal birth…(purely because I would have not been in time for the delivery)</div>
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And even though I try on various attempts to organise and sort everything, it never lasts more than 5 days before I am back at scatter-brain square 1.</div>
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Being a scatter brain is not easy, explanation set out in numerical order : <br />
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1. I rarely remember things, and for me to remember things, I need to make notes, but if I make notes, my whole desk is soon covered with sticky notes with at least 5 messages scribbled onto each…</div>
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2. I talk gibberish, cause my brain works way faster than my mouth so sentences are formed in my head at double the speed they leave my mouth, and the more excited I get, the faster I talk, the less the other person can understand<br />
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3. My thoughts get side-tracked in an instant<br />
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4. Insomnia is basically my best friend, I will lay awake at night till early hours of the morning cause I can not get my brain to stand still, take a breath, calm down and switch off. I will never be able to fall asleep in dead quiet, either the TV or the radio should be on for me to be able to sleep (to distract my brain from over-thinking, I guess)</div>
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Oh well, anyway<br />
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A bit a Biekie, a whole lot of boy….<br />
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My Bieki-baba turned 6! As I reflect back on these past 6 years, it is amazing to see where we came from and where we are today.<br />
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Six years ago, heavy pregnant, waddling like a duck, I was scared to death of what lay ahead for us as new parents. Not knowing what the future hold was even scarier than any theme-park ride I could ever imagine! Thoughts ran through my head, thoughts like “Will we survive”, and more important…“will the baby survive!”. But we took parenthood step by step, faced each challenge as it came, overcame it and survived…and yes…the baby stayed alive as well. We got through teething, crawling, walking, potty training, bottle weaning, stitches and Emergency Rooms. We celebrated each new accomplishment with heaps of pride and joy. </div>
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And looking back, these past 6 years have been the best time of my life. Who ever though such a little person can teach you so much! <br />
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We allowed H to decide what he wanted for his birthday, and the instructions were plain and simple : A party at the Spur and a lucky packet filled with toys for a present. And said instructions were carefully adhered to.</div>
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We organised a Spur birthday party for him and a few friends, and granddad was his hero when he showed up with a big bag filled to the brim with lucky packets, 24 lucky packets to be precise. Needless to say, my house is littered with plastic lucky packet toys, which can be found in every nook and cranny. He even took a few lucky packets to school as part of his lunch….<br />
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Congratulations with your 6th birthday my precious littlest Biekie, thank you for being part of our lives, for enriching our lives with love, joy and happiness, thank you for the lessons you taught us as parents. And we are looking forward to many more years to come!</div>
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We also recently celebrated my 31st birthday…damm… 3 1…. (please note that I do not feel 31, and no, I do not feel old or wish to refer to myself as old) <br />
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As part of the birthday celebration, hubby bought me the book “Bloom : Finding beauty in the unexpected”. I started reading the blog of Kelle Hampton (<a href="http://www.kellehampton.com/">Enjoying the small things</a>) when her <a href="http://www.kellehampton.com/2010/01/nella-cordelia-birth-story.html">birth story post of Nella</a> spread like wild fire. Whilst reading the post, I bowled my eyes out; I could literally feel every single strand of raw emotion ripping through me. I fell in love with the Blog, I await each blog posting with great anticipation, follow it like there is no tomorrow… It feels like this blog became a household name for me, the “I’ve know her for years’ type of reaction. But getting back to the book, I’m reading it very, very slow, only a few pages at a time, savouring each moment, each phrase, each paragraph. I know I will read the book for a second time (and maybe a third) just to make sure that I did not miss anything, the smallest piece of detail.</div>
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I kind off like to idea of being 31, it feel so grown-up’ish, but instead of settling into a life that most woman my age does, I still do prefer sitting outside in the sandpit, playing with the littlest, digging holes and building bridges in the sand. I still prefer to rather jump with them on the jumping castle, doing handstands and trying my luck on H’s skateboard (which I should rather NOT be doing, I just might brake something).</div>
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With all the hustle and bustle of today’s life, escaping to being carefree is sometimes necessary, just to remind us how fun life can actually be, cause if you don’t do it…that is when you get old, that is when you forget how to live life, that is when you forget to enjoy the small things in life</div>
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Benitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17022452641189800469noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059489630908442893.post-8560873312186373082012-08-14T11:39:00.001+02:002015-08-14T09:40:15.602+02:00The heart of a January…. ;) <br />
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Seeing that my blog is not famous (yet), and therefore I am not flooded with comments (yet), I truly appreciate that few that I do get. And I would like to share a conversation after a recent post I did, just because the comments was touchy and so heartfelt, and left me all warm and fuzzy…</div>
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• “I salute you for forgiving and moving on instead of harbouring hatred and ill feelings! Teaching your kids differently to what would be expected of someone who has gone through what your family has gone through”<br />
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* “Thank you for understanding the message behind my post. I saw so much hatred on FB with Mandela Day, and it was truly sad that as a nation we claim democracy and equality, but yet we cannot find it in our hearts to forgive the sins of our forefathers”<br />
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• “So true! Mandela day is a nice way of remembering him and those that fought for democracy etc. But we should not forget those who lost their lives.”<br />
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* “Instead of just celebrating Mandela, we should celebrate our country and the people living in it, those trying to make the difference.”<br />
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• “Yes, that is true! Cause you see, everyone went through the struggle. Not just Mandela and his friends.”<br />
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* “In some way or the other, it is a struggle for every person. And the struggles I have as a person does not make me a better or worse person that the guy next to me, it is suppose to ignite compassion to rather reach out a helping hand to the one next to you”<br />
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I’m not a politician, not even closely, and I do not talk politics and neither do I promote it, and my post was not directed in any political kind off way. For me it is about finding solutions in creating a better future, cause as a parent, I owe that to my children.<br />
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I had a few eye-opening moments these last couple of days, moments where I had to stand back and ask myself if this is the best possible example that I can set for my children, or can I improve on it, make it better in so many more ways? And it is hard to be completely satisfied with the person you are, we will always be faced with opportunities on which we can improve, learn from and grow from. We just need to take that first step, grab hold of those opportunities and make that change! Cause with change comes strength. And the stronger we grow as person, the easier it becomes to create that better future.</div>
Benitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17022452641189800469noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059489630908442893.post-82153395879281725922012-07-25T10:54:00.002+02:002015-08-14T09:40:34.809+02:00Mandela Day;<br />
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So, on the 18th of July 2012, we celebrated Mandela Day. Things such as freedom, democracy and equality were celebrated, but with all of the celebrations a lot of sad and painful events were also remembered.</div>
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The struggle throughout the history of South Africa was not an easy road; too many people were hurt in more than one way. The injustice done to the people were wrong. Many people lost their lives in a struggle that, to this day, have neither been won nor lost…</div>
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But then we have to ask ourselves “Why is this war still raging?”</div>
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The only real memory that I have of the Apartheids Era would be the 1994 election. I remember sitting in the living room, watching the tv, and the only images showing on the tv was that of the election, hundreds of people standing in queues, waiting to cast their votes, hoping to make a difference. More than that I honestly do not remember, I mean really, I was a child, enjoying life. </div>
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But the ripples caused by the Apartheids Era eventually reached our family, and my grandparents became part of the statistics of the notorious “Farm murders”. </div>
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I remember my dad sitting on the edge of their bed, his head cupped in his hands, crying. That was the first time I ever saw my dad cry. </div>
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I remember how I was overwhelmed by sadness and sorrow when my parents told me that my grandparents passed away. </div>
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I remember the pink dress I wore to their funeral; the dress had lace and little bows. </div>
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I remember thousands of tears streaming down the cheeks of familiar faces. </div>
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I remember my dad and uncles taking the shovels, and how shovel after shovel the dirt started to cover the caskets of the two people that I loved so dearly. </div>
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But what I remember most of all is how much I miss them…</div>
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…how I miss granny’s slap chips…</div>
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…how I would stand on my grandfather feet while he danced with me in the living room to the tune of “Dans met die rooi rok”…</div>
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…the bag filled with Quality Street tucked away in grandpa’s closet…</div>
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…the early morning smell of freshly brewed rooibos tea filling the house</div>
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My mind as child could not really grasp the reality behind all of it, and for me, missing them was far more important than hating those who cause the pain…. Years later I still prefer to focus on how much I miss them, keeping their memories alive and not allowing it to fade with time.</div>
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But yet, it saddens me to see that there are still so many people “trapped” in the happenings of our past, who refuse to let go, they grip onto it so tightly that it totally consumes them.</div>
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I refuse to raise my children in a world where hatred and anger clouds our minds and judgement, a world where decisions and accusations are based on the wrongdoings of the generations before us. </div>
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I want to teach my children the importance of respect for one another, the importance of equality. Teach them that they should treat others as they wish to be treated. I want to teach them that there is a place in the sun for each and every one of us. I refuse to tangle them into believing that they should hate for something that happened two, three of four generations ago. We cannot clutch onto the past when trying to create a better future. </div>
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We need to learn to let go, not for the sake of the past generations, but more important, for the sake of the future generations</div>
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Benitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17022452641189800469noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059489630908442893.post-29303926726071540292012-07-25T10:43:00.001+02:002015-08-14T09:40:45.602+02:00Celebrations….<br />
We had a couple of celebrations the last month or so, giving us the opportunity to commemorate special moments and create precious memories. <br />
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We celebrated Mother’s Day and Father’s Day, giving praise and thanks to people whom without we would not have been possible, people that created us, raised us, moulded us, people that provided us with the necessary stepping stones in life, they kept us safe, wiped our tears and shared our joys, but they also had to let go and give us the opportunities to explore and grow on our own. But most of all, they love us! <br />
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It was also a great honour for me the day I became a mother…I am a mother, and a mother to the most precious littlest Biekies. <br />
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We also celebrated when Grandma and Grandpa came to visit for a few days. Not only did they bring presents and sea shells (yes our package was delivered “by hand”…it was delivered by the hand of grandma and grandpa), but they also brought “conversations till late”, “anybody for another cup of coffee?”, potjiekos, laughter, sharing and rekindling of special bonds between Biekies and those who love them. They further brought the opportunity of creating new memories, memories that we will be able to share the next time we meet. <br />
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And hopefully the next time will be next to the sandy shores of the sea, the sea with it’s crashing waves and noisy squawking seagulls gliding over-head, the sea we love so much and miss so dearly… <br />
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But, and this is a great, big BUT….<br />
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We celebrated littlest Miss Diva, we celebrated her life, her love… we celebrated her! Yes, the time came to celebrate her birthday, another year passed, which was filled with so many great and special moments, joys and laughter, yes, there were tears as well (but we like to think that those tears made us stronger in what we do and achieve…)<br />
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I cannot believe that she turned two! It is amazing to look back over the past two years, to see how far we have come from the day she was born until now, all the unforgettable moments that was created in that time frame, the goals that were reached, as well as passed with flying colours.<br />
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I miss her being a baby, I miss her milky-baby breath, I miss those tiny little fingers and those tiny little toes, but all of that has been replaced with a littlest singing along with the music playing on the radio, very inquisitive fingers and buzy little toes, and what mamma out there can not love little things like that, those remarkable changes we get to witness each and every day.<br />
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And celebrating all of this, we baked and laughed and sang and clapped and smiled…(and cried)…we shared this with friends and family, we indulged in braaivleis, mieliepap, and more laughter, we toasted to her, we toasted to that which has passed and that to come…. we created awesome memories… we celebrated!<br />
<br />Benitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17022452641189800469noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059489630908442893.post-39076959153280455092012-06-01T16:46:00.000+02:002015-08-14T09:40:56.443+02:00Life as we know it<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Life is hectic, keeping to our daily schedule and routines are not
always easy.</span><span style="font-family: Arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">Most mornings end up in me
rushing the kids to get dressed and ready cause “we are late” (which we are 4
out of 5 mornings in a week).</span><span style="font-family: Arial;"> </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-ZA" style="font-family: Arial;">Friday evenings have been consumed by rugby practice and Saturday
mornings are spend next to the rugby field, eating hotdogs and encouraging the
Biekie. </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">Having my heart ache with pride has never felt so good!</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-ZA" style="font-family: Arial;">The times following between Saturday and Friday H spend improving on his
newly taught techniques, throwing and catching the ball, running with the ball,
firmly gripped under the one arm and “pushing” the opponents away with the
other, and using mommy’s legs as a batter ram for scrums and tackles. Seeing his eyes lit up, the smile on his face
and the endless enthusiasm in which all of this is done is priceless. And yes, of course, my littlest remains one
bad-ass kicker….<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-ZA" style="font-family: Arial;">On the other end of the spectrum…with each day passing we can see more
and more transformation in the littlest of Biekies, less baby and more little
lady (or should I say Diva), less dependant and more independence, more eager
to do things on her own. Conversations
are slowly turning from gibberish to meaningful words and short sentences. And let me tell you, sister can dance to the
beat!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-ZA" style="font-family: Arial;">So with all of this happening, the other Sunday was kind of a big day in
our household, as we are in the process of slowly transforming sister’s room to
suit her “big-girl” needs. Out with the
cot and in with the “big girl” bed, out with the Chest of Drawers and in with
the dressing table. But more to follow
soon…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-ZA" style="font-family: Arial;">And between all of this we are also busy arranging a birthday party for
little Miss Diva, celebrating her achievements, celebrating her life, and celebrating
her. And what better way to do this than
with a vintage style tea party. Digging
for the miniature porcelain tea set we inherited from Great-Grandma, digging
out the China we got from Grandma, discovering long forgotten crocket
tablecloths in the back of the linen closet, planning the menu, the thank-you
gifts, the guest list, a day filled with fun and laughter, a day spend with
people loving and caring for my littlest, a day spent in the best possible way
I know…with friends and family.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-ZA" style="font-family: Arial;">I also heard a fluttering whisper that we might be expecting a “Per
Hand” parcel…. a parcel filled with all sorts of goodies, hand-knitted goodies,
farmer’s market hand-made goodies, dearly missed seashells and sea sand, and to
top it all, lots of hugs and kisses, all carefully packet and wrapped by a
Grandma and Grandpa, who misses the littlest Biekies greatly. Can’t wait to see the expression on their
little faces as we unwrap that parcel and discover those hidden treasures
underneath the lid…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-ZA" style="font-family: Arial;">Had a chat with a dear friend who is awaiting the arrival of her second
littlest, and we spoke about our trials and tribulations as mommies (and as
parents). We spoke about the fears we
face as second-time pregnant moms, the doubts we have in our abilities. But where I sit today and look back at it
all, it was not really that bad. I am
somewhat surviving the age-gap, the boy-vs-girl, the lack of sleep and the
nappies. We have an ever-changing-ever-adapting
routine; cause what worked today might not always work as well tomorrow. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-ZA" style="font-family: Arial;">H raised much easier than Z is doing, he was my easy-child where as she
is my little tantrum diva. And whoever
said you get smarter with the second child did not have a second child, cause I
sometimes feel more clueless now than I did with H.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-ZA" style="font-family: Arial;">But yet, as difficult and daunting as things can be at times, so much
more rewarding are they. Being able to
share their accomplishments, their milestones, and the crazy happy
moments. Just loving these precious
little moments.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-ZA" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">Discovered not far from our house, is a venue called
the “Biekie Bos”, and I think the Biekies should go for a visit…</span>Benitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17022452641189800469noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059489630908442893.post-30224545182135545382012-04-23T11:02:00.000+02:002015-08-14T09:41:42.712+02:00Strive to perfectionThe clock reads "23 April, 10;13 am", and if I remember correctly, my dad was buzy walking me down the aisle, leaving the old behind and walking towards a new future...we were all so nervous, I remember that I just kept telling my dad "Do not step on my dress, please..."<br />
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I walked passed smiling familiar faces, but till this day I can not remember whose faces those were...all I remember was seeing him standing in front of the church, smiling, waiting for me...<br />
We were married young, not knowing what the future holds, not really caring about it either, all we cared about was that being in love with each other was spectacularly wonderful!<br />
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"For better or for worse" - Yes, some days have been "for better" and others have been "for worse", but overall, most of them have been "For the best"! We can not expect live to go smooth sailing all the time, how are we suppose to learn those valuable life lessons if nothing ever goes wrong?<br />
We are learning together, we are growing together, and with each day passing we are going stronger and stronger.<br />
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It might sound cheesy, but he truly completes me, I am beautiful cause he makes me beautiful. He gave me the most precious gift in life, he made me a mommy and enriching my life with two precious littlest Biekies!<br />
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But I have to thank my Heaven Father most of all, cause He is the one who send Guilm my way, He planned for us to be together and share the memories of each day. He's the glue that keeps us sticking!<br />
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So, happy Weeding Anniversary my Bollie! Thank you for (sometimes, just sometimes), being the better part of me, I truly love you "till death do us part"<br />
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<br />Benitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17022452641189800469noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059489630908442893.post-92199232624548415622012-04-10T21:23:00.001+02:002015-08-14T09:42:01.631+02:00Crouch, touch, pause…engage!Yes, we finally entered a new phase in our lives, as well as in parenthood, the phase know as extramural activities. When H started with Gr.0, we decided to introduce him to as much as possible, but not to force him and allow him to decide which activities he wanted to partake in. Therefore, when the rugby season started, we took him to rugby practise, which is not as hard-core as training for the Super 14 season, but enough to teach him the basic skills and further develop his muscle tone etc, etc. <br />
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<br />
<br />
As parents, we were pretty excited by all of this, but on the other hand, H did not take to this so gladly as we hoped for….for e.g. : Everyone on the field would be running and diving for the ball, going into the scrum with vigour, trying to get to that damm ball, everybody except H, who would be standing happily at the back, observing all the commotion and not bother at the least to try and get that ball….<br />
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<br />
<br />
Ok, yes, I understand the fact that he is only 5 (turning 6) and that this is the first time that he truly got involved in rugby, but still, as a parent you stop to wonder if maybe, just maybe, you might have done something wrong to contribute to the fact that he is not really interested in all of this.<br />
<br />
We actually went as far as buying him a brand new red rugby ball to awaken “the hunger and the passion for the game”. We play outside on the lawn, pass the ball and scrum like no other man has done before. And after many trials and tribulations, tears shed on the rugby field, pep-talks from the coaches, and mommy and daddy boosting that little ego…we finally realised, H is not a “pack-man”, he does not like to be in the middle of that scrum, being squashed and squeezed…nope…my littlest is a kicker!!!!! <br />
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<br />
And I have to admit; he’s got a mean-ass kicking-foot. So yes, let the other boys scrum and tackle away, let them get all muddy, bloody and snotty….my boy will be the one behind the lines, waiting, making sure that when he gets the ball, to kick it as hard as possible and send it flying through the poles, to ensure victory, not only for him in a personal way, but for his team as well. <br />
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<br />
So kick away my littlest, kick away!<br />
<br />Benitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17022452641189800469noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059489630908442893.post-56408271596657467642012-01-26T16:54:00.002+02:002015-08-14T09:43:00.374+02:00Proud – prouder – atomic-sized-explosion-proud….<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
We all have our proud moments, those memories, when being thought of, still makes your heart go all warm, fussy and mushy. If I had to look back and just name a few, it most probably would be the following :</div>
<ul style="margin-top: 0in;" type="disc">
<li class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-ZA">When I got my drivers licence first time;<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-ZA">My engagement;<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-ZA">(Obviously) my wedding day;<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-ZA">Confirmation of my pregnancies;<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-ZA">Hanco’s birth, that first little cry, a cry that confirmed that I was blessed with the title “Mother”;<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-ZA">Same with Zhané’s birth, hearing her cry for the first time, being reminded that my blessings are countless<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-ZA">Watching my kids reach all their milestones;<o:p></o:p></span></li>
</ul>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-ZA">Those are just to name a few, but today was another one that I can add to my list. Hanco took part in his very first athletics event; he ran the 60m as well as the 80m. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-ZA">But today was kind off bitter sweet for me as a mother, on the one hand, I was extremely proud of him, so proud that my chest literally pained from it, but on the other hand, I could not be there to support him, to stand next to the field and shout and cheer for him, to scoop him in my arms as he ran over the finish line, hug and kiss him, congratulate him and tell him just how very proud I am of him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-ZA">This is just one of the few sad realisations of being a working-mom, cause you miss out on so many things. Other people get to share precious moments with your kids, moments that you as mother was suppose to share with them. And all of this just because I made the decision to be a working mom, to enable me to provide for them to the best of my financial ability, to provide them with good and reliable health care, good education, to pave their ways to a good, stable future.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-ZA">But there are days where I long for the freedom of being a stay-at-home mom, the flexibility thereof, and the opportunity one gets to share in those cherished moments.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-ZA"></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-ZA">At least I got a photo or two of Hanco participating in today’s athletics, which sort-off somehow made me feel like I was almost there….<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, what are a few of your proudest moments? </div>
Benitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17022452641189800469noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059489630908442893.post-42009276957807491122012-01-26T16:50:00.003+02:002015-08-14T09:43:22.355+02:00Taking the Challenge…<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
These last
couple of days was a bit challenging to me, as wife as well as mother….</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-ZA">I have been
on an emotional roller coaster of note, loosing control and dropping the balls
on every twist, turn and bend of the roller coaster. The more I try mending things, the more holes
I find.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-ZA"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-ZA">We have
noticed a slight change in Hanco’s behaviour, as if he is a little bit more
spiteful and on purpose, we have had some tears and snots as he refused to go
to school, as the new teacher is a bit more strict with the kids as what H is
used to, and I think emotionally he is struggling a bit with all of this, and
the current situation at home is also not helping to improve things. Zhané has turned into a little “attention-seeking-troll”,
requiring more and more, and the more she gets, the more she wants, and beware
of depriving her of said attention…man, things tend to turn ugly! Unfortunately, Hanco pulls on the shortest
end of this rope, cause it is easier to allow him to watch an animated movie
while I tend to tantrum-troll than try and find an equal balance between the
two.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-ZA"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-ZA">But then,
strangely, I get a e-mail from my sister, who was having a bit of a downer
herself, and as I typed e-mail after a-mail, loading each with a few sentences
filled with elderly-sister-advice, I think somehow, my own advice made me feel
better in a small kind off way.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-ZA"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-ZA">Maybe I
should realise that things do not always go as we plan them, yes sometimes we
are forced to take the road less travelled, but we have to remember…it’s not
over till the fat lady sings, and lucky for me, this fat lady can not sing to
save her life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-ZA"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-ZA">Sometimes
we must just fight a little harder, try one more time, cause there are things
in life that’s worth fighting for<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Benitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17022452641189800469noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059489630908442893.post-54751494470275213132012-01-26T16:49:00.002+02:002015-08-14T09:43:41.422+02:00First of many…<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I somewhat, vaguely remember my first day of school, my new brown dress and the beige shirt underneath it, the grandness of my (first) new pair of school shoes, the little brown box suitcase my grandfather bought me. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-ZA">The excitement grew as mom and I entered the school grounds. The big, brick buildings, the long hallways, everything was new to me, and I just could wait to start exploring every inch of it. I could not get rid of my mom fast enough, just so that I could go sit at my desk, admiring the classroom, making sure my shoes stayed clean. And I am pretty sure, if I close my eyes and think back hard enough I would be able to feel the wood surface of my desk underneath my fingertips, I would be able to smell my brand new box of Crayola crayons, hear the laughter of the children as the bell rang for break-time. The more and more I sit here thinking about the memories I collected from my school days; the more and more I miss it. We played marbles, hob-scotch, jumping rope and even a silly, little game where you used old (but clean) pantyhose from mom’s closet, but one of my favourite memories of way back then was the library and the books, the fact that I was taught the ability to read through countless pages, as much as I wanted and for as long as I wanted. I enjoyed reading, it opened worlds for me that, I would never have been able to reach.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-ZA">To be carefree, not worry about anything, to enjoy every moment as if there was no tomorrow, to learn, to explore…man those were the days!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-ZA">Well that day finally arrived for Hanco…. his first day of school. And I wanted everything to be just perfect for him. I packed, unpacked and repacked his school bag maybe 3 times, made sure everything is clearly marked with “Hanco Botha” (I think his school bag is marked in 3 different places), his school uniform was ready, school shoes cleaned, lunch box packed and juice bottle filled.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-ZA">As we drove to school, he sat quietly next to me in the car, observing our route as he does most of the time, but once we neared the school he was a sudden burst of energy and excitement. He could not wait to get out of the car and enter the school grounds. As we waited for Guilm to arrive, he was a non-stop-babbling-mess!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-ZA">The moment finally arrived, he was allowed to walk through those big gates and enter this great adventure, and he started the new chapter in his life. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-ZA">They took us to his class, we met his teacher, but…. just as I did some 24 odd years ago, he also could not wait that we leave just so that he could go and play. He could care less about the day of tomorrow or the philosophy of life, he only cared in doing what he knows best…. being a child.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-ZA">And on your first day of school you showed us courage and bravery, you faced it with a smile on your face, you were proud, but even more, we as parents, standing behind you were bursting, bursting because you make us proud!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-ZA">So cheers my littlest Biekie, cheers to great adventures and new chapters. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-ZA">May this truly be the best years of your life? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
Benitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17022452641189800469noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059489630908442893.post-91083096210156740912012-01-16T12:26:00.000+02:002015-08-14T09:43:57.001+02:00Another story, a new chapter<br />
<div style="margin: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-ZA">Our New Year started with a few fireworks seen in a distance, the “+<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Project” and a missing dog (who strangely suddenly appeared out of nowhere, as if she was not missing at all….and who by the way, weirdly went missing exactly one year ago as well….)</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-ZA">We decided against any New Year’s Resolutions for 2012 (I mean, really, who keeps to them anyway?), instead we will “create” projects as we go along, our first two for 2012 being : “The<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>+<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Project” and the “Breaking bad habits Project”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<u1:p></u1:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in;">
<b><span lang="EN-ZA">The<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>+<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Project</span></b><span class="apple-converted-space"><span lang="EN-ZA"> </span></span><span lang="EN-ZA">:</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<u1:p></u1:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-ZA">We will try to see and do at least one positive (+) thing every day, the more the better, but at least one will do.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<u1:p></u1:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in;">
<b><span lang="EN-ZA">Breaking bad habits Project</span></b><span class="apple-converted-space"><span lang="EN-ZA"> </span></span><span lang="EN-ZA">:</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<u1:p></u1:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-ZA">Which ever bad habit it may be, we will attempt in breaking it. Both Guilm and I decided on the 3<sup>rd</sup><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>that we have indulged long enough in our bad habit, and decided to put a stop to it, but in doing so, Mark decided that if we can do it, so can he, so all and all, the three of us have been bad habit-less for a total of 9 days now, and counting. Apparently it takes 21 days to consider a bad habit broken, we are almost halfway…we can do this!</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<u1:p></u1:p><br />
<div align="center" style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-ZA"><u1:p> *****</u1:p></span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin: 0in;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<span lang="EN-ZA"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-ZA">I can’t get myself to finish marking Hanco’s school requirements…. it is just to damm difficult and heartbreaking! But I have to pull myself together, as school starts soon. We will be there, right beside him, holding his hand, as he walks through the gates for the first time. We will be there to comfort when all gets a bit to overwhelming; we will be there to witness the excitement. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<u1:p></u1:p><br />
<div style="margin: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-ZA">But then the time will come where I will have to let go of his hand, give him a hug, a kiss and an “I love you lots”. </span><br />
<br />
<span lang="EN-ZA">I will have to turn around, walk away and allow him to explore this wonderful new phase in his life, and I will do it with a smile on my face (let me rather re-phrase : A smile IN my heart and tears ON my face). Yes it is sad to see them grow up so fast, but on the other side, it is absolutely amazing to see them grow, to reach the milestones, to learn, explore, play, to be a child, but also grow into this perfect littlest human being.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in;">
I will love him (them) till end of time and then even some more, for they are my littlest, my Biekies, my everything, my reason for being, my reason for existing.</div>
Benitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17022452641189800469noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059489630908442893.post-85207976482182006022012-01-16T12:20:00.000+02:002015-08-14T09:44:13.726+02:002012As 2012 begins to slowly unveil herself, and Merry Jingles becomes a distant thought, I wish upon you joys, laughter, love, hope, peace, happiness, faith & everlasting friendship! Thank you for being part of my remembrance of 2011 and may we share many more to come!<br />
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Benitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17022452641189800469noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059489630908442893.post-86047365335240364532012-01-16T12:19:00.000+02:002015-08-14T09:44:23.485+02:00The next Chapter : Our Christmas Story unfolds<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<s><span lang="EN-ZA">Ok, so 5
(and yes, please note 5) days before Christmas, I suddenly decided that this
year would be the perfect year for the kids to create hand-made Christmas Cards
for Grandparents, Aunts & Uncles, so let’s see how this one goes….more to
follow…. </span></s><span lang="EN-ZA">We shall re-attempt this tradition next
year….no further comments</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-ZA">With us
being so busy I desperately tried to create some magic surrounding this
wonderful time of year. There was truly
moments where it felt as if Christmas lost it’s magic, as if the commercialism
of Christmas is killing it’s spirit, as if the Christmas spark is slowly fading
away. But we fought back; we fought for
the magic of Christmas time, the beauty, the wonder, and the splendour thereof…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-ZA"></span><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-ZA">So, we have
: </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-ZA"><o:p> </o:p></span> </div>
<ul style="margin-top: 0in;" type="disc">
<li class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-ZA">Blinking Christmas Lights
√ </span> </li>
</ul>
<ul style="margin-top: 0in;" type="disc">
<li class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-ZA">Christmas Stockings filled with
all sorts of goodies
√ </span> </li>
</ul>
<ul style="margin-top: 0in;" type="disc">
<li class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-ZA">All the Christmas presents
wrapped
√ <o:p></o:p></span></li>
</ul>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-ZA">(all but mom’s, which by the way, was bought and wrapped in time for
Christmas Day). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<ul style="margin-top: 0in;" type="disc">
<li class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-ZA">Christmas presents stocked
underneath the Christmas Tree </span>
√ </li>
</ul>
<ul style="margin-top: 0in;" type="disc">
<li class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-ZA">Spending quality time as a
family on Christmas Eve
√ </span> </li>
</ul>
<ul style="margin-top: 0in;" type="disc">
<li class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-ZA">Hanco pretending to be Father
Christmas, playing with Sparklers </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">and making sure that hungry reindeers had something to eat when </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">they landed at our house </span>
√</li>
</ul>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-ZA">I read the
story of Christmas out of 2 different storybooks, just to make sure that the
littlest understood what it is all about.
We opened gifts from the Christmas Stockings, whilst we waited for the
arrival of Santa and his reindeers…but eyes grew heavy and littlest tired, so
off to bed they went….<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-ZA">Christmas
Day was met with great anticipation, we had to inspect the bowl of reindeer
food, and found it to be empty….smiles grew wider, excitement filled the
air. But the greatest joy I could have
received on any Christmas morning was that of seeing the beaming from the faces
of my Biekies when they saw what waited for them underneath the Christmas Tree,
no matter how big or how small, they were grateful for what they have received,
and that is one of the greater lessons in life to be learned….being grateful
for what you have and being grateful for what you have received.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-ZA">This was
truly a wonderful Christmas, spending time with family, reconnecting with loved
ones on various different levels. But
most of all, watching my littlest Biekies through all of this made me realise
how blessed we as a family truly are. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-ZA">Yes, life
might not be always moonshine and roses, and the path may at times be a rocky
one, but we, as a family, can do this.
We can wave 2011 goodbye, knowing that what he had to offer, was
actually not all that bad, we can thank him for the good times, the smiles and
the loves, we can look back and learn for the tougher moments, we can allow
those moments to make us stronger.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-ZA">And what
does 2012 have in store for us….I don’t know, I can only but wonder what he
will deliver, and we will await same with grate anticipation <o:p></o:p></span></div>
Benitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17022452641189800469noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059489630908442893.post-5494379385700080402011-12-20T23:38:00.001+02:002015-08-14T09:46:55.109+02:00'Tis the season….<div style="border: currentColor;">
Ok, so almost a year ago, we uprooted our whole existence, the plans we had and the dreams we shared, and moved from the city to a small rural town. </div>
<div style="border: currentColor;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border: currentColor;">
A town where “Shopping Malls staying open till 8 at night” became a vague and distant memory for me, the café on the corner selling (the best) slap chips, fish and russians became a reality, a town where the Bottle Store in the main road is the local tourist attraction.</div>
<div style="border: currentColor;">
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I have to admit, I was a bit negative about this place in the beginning, and it took some time to get use to it all. </div>
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But a few days ago, I saw a total different side to this town, a side that was filled with blinking lights and Christmas cheer. Streets in the centre of town where blocked off and closed down. Kids were playing and running around in the streets, laughing. </div>
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People came with cooler bags and fold-up chairs. And they all came to celebrate for the same reason.</div>
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The municipality erected a huge Christmas Tree in the centre of the town, which was decorated with countless lights and shiny decorations.</div>
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We all sang together as groups performed Christmas Carols from the stage. There was a huge stampede of little tiny feet as all the kids rushed forward to meet Father Christmas and his elves, some more enthusiastic than others. (I realised that my Biekies prefer to appreciate him from a distance, and they profoundly refused to go near him for a photo or two). <br />
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After an hour or so, the streets were littered with partially eaten candy canes, and we had to do all possible to keep littlest from sticking each and every one of them in her mouth.</div>
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Just before 8 the big announcement was made, all the lights were turned off, the streets turned dark…and then…and then we started the count-down from 10. </div>
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I could see the enthusiasm and excitement beam from Hanco’s face as he waited in anticipation, and then, as the count-down reached the end, town centre was illuminated with the brightest lights one could ever imagined as they turned on the lights of the Christmas Tree. We cheered, yelled, clapped hands and whistled. It was truly amazing.</div>
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And I cried, yes, I cried, cause since turning 30 I am an emotional mess-ball and I cry about everything…<br />
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I cried tears of happiness, because even thought it was for just one evening, we managed to move all our issues and differences aside and celebrate the joys this season bring. </div>
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But I also cried some tears of heartache, thinking of those near and dear for who this season will not be as festive, for those in grieve, for those longing for just one more moment of laughter, one more moment of joy, one more moment of love. And it is those that I will keep close to my heart in this time, for them I will pray that they find comfort and that they will be embraced by our Heavenly Father’s healing hands.</div>
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Most of our Christmas shopping is done, only a few more gifts we need to buy, but not only will we be buying gifts this season, we will also be buying school shoes, a school bag, school outfits and stationary as we are preparing to enter a whole new stage in life. Because as of next year, my Biekie will be a Gr. 0 student…be still my heart…<br />
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So, as our kitchen window proudly displays his own set of blinking Christmas lights, we are anticipatingly awaiting the arrival of Grandma and Grandpa Botha for a long awaited and much needed visit</div>
Benitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17022452641189800469noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059489630908442893.post-78067410263280512022011-11-28T11:23:00.000+02:002012-01-16T13:00:50.238+02:00Letting go….<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
From the word “go” after I found out I was pregnant with H, I knew everything would change, my whole world transformed, my life came to a cross road where decisions were made and I was not the one making them….but they were for the better, and if I look back, not a day goes by where I regret the decisions that were made, in fact I LOVE them, I love my littlest Biekies more than ever! </div>
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I vowed to always be there for them, with every smile and through every tear, to love them, cherish them but even more, cherish every moment that I spent with them, because those are the moments that last a life time. </div>
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But disappointingly, I came to the realization that as a mother, I cannot always be there for them, there will be moments in life where they will have to face the world on their own, not only to learn from it and become a better person, but also to build inner strength and confidence, which to me, is two of the more valuable lessons to learn in life.</div>
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And last week was one of those moments, my littlest went to visit his Granddad for the week, yes, and whole week, that is a total of 6 nights where my Biekie was not sleeping at home, in his own bed, in his room next to mine….</div>
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I put on a brave face as we drove away last Sunday, with my Biekie sitting on my father’s shoulder, smiling and waving goodbye, on the outside I was smiling and waving a final goodbye back at him, but my insides were shattering at the thought of having to leave him behind. And yes, I knew he would be fine, and that my dad would not allow anything to happen to him, and that he would take care of him (almost as good as I would have done…), but how do you tell the mother-heart to be still?<br />
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They went fishing on Monday, he caught two fish, and as he told me of those two fish, I could just hear his little voice bursting of proudness, and once again I had to tell my mother-heart to “calm down and be still”, cause I was so proud of him that my chest actually hurt.</div>
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We phoned him every night, got updated on their daily doings, on how much he got spoiled, what they ate and how much he loves us.<br />
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He missed the littlest, and she missed him, both of them got overly excited when they heard each other’s voices over the phone, littlest would grab the phone from my hand, press it tightly against her ear and just listen as her brother rambled away….and dare try and take that phone from her hand….</div>
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On the littlest side of the Biekies…it was as if sister knew she was the only one left and in total control for the time being. She blossomed and bloomed, she transformed into an independent little soul in the blink of an eye, and although she missed her brother, I think she enjoyed being in charge, only if it was for a little while.<br />
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Christmas is around the corner, less than a month to go. The town is slowly but surely transforming into every child (and most adults) dream, with shining, flashing Christmas lights in the shape of stars, candles, etc, appearing on lamp posts all around town. In the middle of the town, a massive Christmas Tree is being erected and decorated. On Christmas Day, the Big Red Truck will drive around town, handing out sweets and goodies to all the children whilst Christmas Carols stream from the big speakers fitted on the roof of the truck.</div>
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But we are once again reminded to be humble, to be grateful and to give thanks for what we have, cause each new day presented to us is borrowed time, it is a gift from the Heavenly Father, and we should never forget that.<br />
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I heard some very wise words from a “Johnny Walker” ad on TV the other night (who would have thought), and it said : It is not what is underneath the Christmas Tree that matters, but who surrounds it… No further explanation needed</div>
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Well, I have all my Biekies back under one roof, our Christmas Tree is proudly displaying its decorations from the corner of the living room, and, as soon as Daddy fixes the other set of Christmas lights, will the kitchen window be hosting its own set of blinking lights this year…<br />
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<img height="63px" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EKSTSFaLDFU/TtNR0JC1tAI/AAAAAAAAASs/x3vViBv_-V8/s320/01.jpg" style="filter: alpha(opacity=30); left: 551px; mozopacity: 0.3; opacity: 0.3; position: absolute; top: 242px; visibility: hidden;" width="96px" />Benitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17022452641189800469noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059489630908442893.post-31883286233465098422011-10-21T14:58:00.000+02:002011-11-04T13:42:07.820+02:00Being lots-of-things-less...A blog without pictures is like a day for me without having coffee, lifeless. But I am forced to do pictureless blogging, as my laptop underwent a few minor adjustments and repairs. Got it back this morning, with a new look, new brains, faster hardware...all brand spanking new, and I am sure I'm gonna love it, can not wait to get my fingers all flying across the keyboard.<br />
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Speaking of being something-less....for the next couple of weeks I will also be Blackberry-less seeing that my Blackberry is now a Brokenberry....damm thing fell out of my hand and the screen went all "stars and stripes" from black to white...and then...and then there was nothing. But I don't mind going back to basics when it comes to the cell phone technology, yes sure, the Blackberry is so convenient, having everyone available at the touch of a button, but hey, I still have my PC, which is basically the "Ark of Noah" version of the Blackberry. But not having my Blackberry constantly by my side (or in my hand) makes more time for the smaller, more important things (which, by the way, should not have been said out loud...)<br />
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We spent last weekend in Centurion with some friends, and what a wonderful time we had, a well deserved refresh and recharge (actually scary to think that we had to leave the "platteland" and visit the city for a recharge!). Z and I attended Monz’s baby shower, where I realized that Z will most probably turn into a shoe-thief as she looked at Marilè’s shoes with those longing-needy eyes, Daddy and H went 3D Smurfing, we braaied, we laughed, we talked (and talked some more, till 2am the next morning), I had coffee with the girls and yes, we managed some shopping as well! Don’t you just love the city-life?<br />
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There are days where it truly feels as if this small little town is suffocating us, strangling every last bit of life out of us, sucking us dry and withering our souls. But we are fighting back, with a decent amount of ass-whooping, because we are from the city, and we are not scared of this little town, and because "WE can" (our new motto - Neither I, nor you but WE can)<br />
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We have such a busy schedule planned for the following weeks, our first family photo shoot coming up, then we have a kitchen tea and bachelors to attend, then the school Christmas Party, then a wedding. Damm, just diarizing all of this is making me long for a holiday!<br />
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This coming week end will be a quiet one for us, just us, the Biekies, some laziness, arts and crafts and maybe some baking, but I know for sure that I will be loving it!Benitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17022452641189800469noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059489630908442893.post-14584017997988266112011-10-11T17:01:00.000+02:002011-10-11T17:01:56.544+02:00Repeat itself…repeat itself…repeat itself…Yes, that is what I wish last weekend could do, repeat itself just once or twice more. We had such a lovely time celebrating my 30th birthday….and yes, I finally turned 30! I passed the 16 year mark, the 18 year mark, I passed 21 and also 25…and then I waited patiently for 30 to show on my doorstep and wave me hallo, and it did, finally!<br />
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I really don’t know why I was so excited turning 30, maybe because “30” just sound so fabulous and voluptuous. Maybe because the girls from Sex and the City reminded me of being “30-something” and they made it look so fun and exciting, mind you, if Sex and the City remind me of being 30, why does Desperate Housewives remind me of being 40?<br />
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And yes, baking was once again included in our weekend. Think I am getting addicted to box-baking, it is so plain, simple and easy, that it even makes me look good, and I love it! Maybe one day, some day in the near future I will have to graduate from box-baking to grown up-baking, yes….some day…but until then, the Biekies and I enjoy our selection of boxes.<br />
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On the Saturday we went to Magic Garden nursery, bought some plants, herbs and flowers to decorate the gardens of my mom and sister (and I have to admit, mom’s garden looks quite cute after the make-over), and afterwards we had lunch, filled with conversations, laughter and Biekies running all over the place. Z had a silly standoff with a hen (which by the way, was trying to protect her chicks).<br />
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We also spend some time at the Vaal Show, walked through hundreds and hundreds of little stalls, rode the mechanical bull (warning: said activity should not be attempted of you are anything shorter than 1.70m, cause me and my whopping 1.64m body took longer to get on the bull than it took me to stay on the bull…). <br />
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We also realised that H has much more of an adventurous spirit than we ever thought, he climbed higher than my heart (and nerves) could handle, went on rides that I never could imagined, he even attempted the mechanical bull, was a bit shocked when he landed on his behind…but, he enjoyed it. <br />
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Z looked amused as familiar faces passed her again and again as the rides went around and around, and she even dared it on the carousel horses, slowly going up and down, smiling every time she passed us<br />
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I am, to be honest; deeply petrified of any amusement park ride, from the Anaconda at Gold Reef City, to the “Cup and Saucer” you get at the local amusement park. I don’t know why and how, all I know is that I am petrified and scared to death of these rides. But, with it being my 30th birthday, and having a fabulous time with the family and not wanting to spoil the mood of the stunning day we were having, I agreed to join mom and my sister when they said we should do the “Cup and Saucer” ride. As we stood in line I could already feel my knees going jelly, my stomach trying to find the emergency exit and my mouth going drier than any desert could ever be….but I braved it, cause I am 30! And if H can do it, so can his mommy!<br />
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But guess what? It started raining!! Call it faith, call it Murphy, call it Karma, call it whatever you please, but let’s admit, the rain saved my lucky stars from going on that evil, evil ride! <br />
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We ended the day with dirty muddy feet, hair all wet and tangled, Biekies trying to hide their faces from the cold, splashing raindrops, some good old KFC and tired bodies falling asleep on couches in front of the TV…but…it was a great, fabulous day. <br />
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So, let’s cheers to turning 30!Benitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17022452641189800469noreply@blogger.com0