The little things that count...

Tonight I got soap in my eye... Well, conditioner. I lay back in the water and washed it out. It made me think about how differently the kids handle soap in their eyes. The eldest: girl. 17. I have no idea when she last got soap in her eyes. She's pretty much been independent since she was 8. When I got divorced. She probably does the same as me (she has picked up a lot of my traits). 2nd: Boy. 11. "Mom.... Mom! MOOOOOOMMMMM!!" "What?" "I got soap in my eyes".  Well there's no much I can do about it. Wash your eyes with water. Use a face cloth" "ok..." Youngest: Boy. 9. "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeee" if no reaction, again at a higher pitch. One of us usually runs in because it sounds like he's bring attacked by "something". My "deal with it" approach doesn't work and the screeching continues. So I send in his father. They both shout at each other but in the end calm is restored.

Bella is my dog.  She getting fussed over a lot lately because her brother went missing 3 weeks ago.  Not a trace of him.  No phone calls, no Odie at the shelters, no body lying on the side of the road. Nothing.  As morbid as it sounds, if he was no longer of this earth, I would rather find his body.  It would be closure.  At this stage I'm going through every possibility that exists.  From "he's been taken in by a loving family who are not online and don't go out much and don't know to report him to a shelter..."  Well, you never know... to "somebody thought he's a pitbull puppy and taken him for a sinister reason"  to "dog fighting bait" and even "maybe he's running around a taxi rank eating pap en vleis and getting fat".  Fact is... he could be anywhere - dead or alive. Bella and Odie have been with me since I moved into my house more than 9 years ago.  They were 5 week old brother and sister pitbull/ sharpei cross. 

Not everything that seems bad is actually bad.  You've heard the sayings... "don't judge a book by it's cover"... "there's light at the end of the tunnel", "You have to take the good with the bad".  You need to stop, take a breath, and take note of everything that is RIGHT, instead of dwelling on everything that is wrong.  We tend to focus on the bad things, forgetting that there's a bit of good and bad in everything... How many times do you find things happening and your reply is "that's so typical" or something along those lines. Something negative. Sometimes you need to find the good in bad situations.

I have finally washed off the last of the army of ants that invaded my personal space today. I went to buy lunch for Spike- our pet spider. Oh, I didn't tell you we have a pet spider? A Curly Tarantula to be precise.  He/she (we're not really sure if its male or female) is 3 years old and fits in the palm of my hand... well, more like overflows...  Spikey seemed a little hungry last night - I stuck my hand in the tank to fill the water and "he" seemed way too interested in my hand after being on a hunger strike for 3 weeks (don't worry- water was always filled and they can go a month without eating).

My favourite time of day. I was suffering from a tension headache from hell that had rendered me useless the entire afternoon. I ran the hot water. Then added the cold- as usual.  Left it a few minutes to get ready to hop in... I turned off the cold to let the hot run again. I climbed in. Geeeez!!

I am a perfectionist.  Usually to my own detriment. You wouldn't think it by looking at me though. It's inherited.  From my dad.  The difference is, my dad is a perfectionist inside and out.  He always looks good.  I, on the other hand, often look like I've just been dragged through the bush backwards. I'm always clean and my hair and make-up done, but the clothes that make their way onto my body are usually the first ones I grab out my cupboard.  Creased or not... My dad would take out the iron and iron his shirt if there's a crease. My dad would not settle for a dirty house, neither would my mom for that matter- they can have all 7 grand children around and the house will still look great when they leave. My kitchen floor often looks like the dog's breakfast.  It probably is the dog's breakfast... and the kids'... and lunch and supper. For the past few days.  I often only notice once I've walked barefoot in the kitchen and gathered a few it

I now have an earworm... A song I used to listen to many (many) years ago... On the eve of my 40th birthday, I came to the realization that as from tomorrow, I will officially be "over the hill"... I didn't mind being made aware of that- it was more the one word -MATURE, that scared me. Me, mature? Don't make me laugh! Although I'm rather looking forward to entering my "naughty forties". Age is just a number, but its amazing how that word "mature" is still haunting my thoughts... I'm still young at heart - a hippy - free spirit. I love playing and re-living the years gone by. I'm a responsible adult, mother and always ensure I'm doing any job I'm given my full attention (even if I'm day-dreaming through many parts of it).

That was the sound of me jumping into the deep end. Again! Today I signed up as a freelance writer on an international freelance work site.  I'm not sure if it was in a moment of bravery or stupidity.  And now I'm consumed with FEAR! Fear of what, I'm not entirely sure.  It may be because I'm suddenly not so sure I'm that much of a good writer... even though countless people has told me to pursue this direction.  Maybe it's fear that I already have so little time in my day to devote my time and effort to (jobs, family, children, studying, crafts etc etc etc)...

I still do not no understand why the "funny bone" is called the funny bone. Its not even a bone! Its a nerve! And I really don't find it funny when I bump it- I guess the name came about because usually when you bump it, its a weird kind of feeling... But when the pain seers through you and you feel like you're about to pass out from the pain- its really not funny.  I bumped mine so hard yesterday my hand was lame for about 10 minutes following the bump. Its still sore now. So what Miss Clumsy do...? Bump the same ULNA NERVE on the same bathroom towel rail today. Typical. My clumsy nature is inherited from my mother.  My sisters inherited it from her too.  My children have inherited it me.  I supposed somebody has to provide the giggles now and then... 

I picked up my niece's guitar on Sunday, and couldn't believe how much I had missed it.  I used to play guitar as a kid.  For many years I went to guitar lessons.  My teacher's name was Lee.  My sister had been to her, then got bored and left.  Then it was my turn.  It was the one thing I never gave up a child (along with my love of drawing and painting).  When my younger sister decided she also wanted to go to lessons, my parents had to buy her a new (um, second hand) guitar.  I wasn't about to give mine up quite yet...

My ex husband once said something that made me realize how differently we all see the world He was going through rehab for about the 3 rd time… I left soon afterwards. He seemed sure that this time he was going to make it through and beat the drugs.  He didn’t.  But while battling and “trying” to beat his demons… he said to me, “ I think that once I’m clean I’ll look into becoming a role model for kids”.  I probably stared at him blankly.  His reasoning “maybe this is my calling in life.  Maybe I had to go through all this to find the reason why I’m here.”.  My answer “what do you mean why you’re here?”.  “My calling.  The reason I’m alive.  Why I was put on Earth.  I'll be a motivational speaker or counselor.”  I’m sure I must’ve looked at him like he had 3 heads.  “You don’t need a reason to be here. Or a reason to be a role model. Just accept that you’re here and enjoy the life you have to the fullest.  Make the most of it”.  He answered, “ see that’s the thing with you.

It's the usual new year saying... but what better time to cut those ties and let all the things that no longer serve you go. Last year was a roller coaster ride, and I didn't know if I was going to find a happy medium again... I'm still working on some thoughts and trying to find the best way to fit things into my life.  I'm taking my time.  It helps that I'm a procrastinator of note.