Grieve, we all do it differently.



No, the cold gloomy Johannesburg weather didn’t throw me into the pits of despair over the weekend…

The old saying goes that time heals all wounds, I tend do disagree. You see, today is my biological father’s 8th birthday, not on earth, a big one as he would have turned 50 today. As much as I was okay about it, when my sister phoned to tell me that she will be putting flowers on his grave today, I’m not that okay today. Maybe it was the horrible dreams about death I had the whole of last night or the unexpected message someone posted on Facebook. But today, I kind of miss him. Today my heart is really sore, and that’s when I realise that after eight years, the pain is still very much real and hurts just as much as the day you left us.

When my Father passed away, he left three woman with a mountain of unfinished business. A real business and lots and lots of unresolved issues and feelings behind. You see, a lot of water ran into the ocean leading up to my fathers passing , and wherever he is now, is probably for the better.

But I do miss him. I haven’t given him and his death any thought as that is how I grieve. Things are swept under the rug for another day, and I move on and get on with life. Crying wasn’t going to help me pass Matric, grieve sure as hell wasn’t going to put me through university. No, I moved on and “forgot” about it.

So on days like today, on his birthday, I miss him. I spare a thought of what could have been and little bit by little bit I deal with the sorrow and pain that still lingers in my heart over what happened and why he decided to leave.

Happy 50th Birthday to you!



Marriage is anything but beautiful 

You get to live your vows on a daily basis.

“To be my wife/husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, to love and to cherish, until we are parted by death. This is my solemn vow.”

As a husband and wife you get to see the absolute worst part of that person’s soul. When they’ve been disappointed, mad, sad, stubborn, so annoying that you want to knock him out with the Le Creuset pan. When they are so unapproachable and unlovable all you want to do is shake them by the shoulders. 

But you also get to experience special moments with that person. The unnamed emotions when your first baby is born. The silly moments teasing each other in the kitchen, taunting, joking. The highs and the lows that, that person gets to experience in their lifetime.

You get to see the gross parts. When that person wakes up after a surgery and they mumble the weirdest stuff, the bed farts, morning breath. When he is sick and can’t even reach for the remote because of Man flu.

Marriage isn’t a one size fits all. It’s anything but beautiful. But it’s a rollercoaster ride you get to experience with hopefully one person for the rest of your life. Because that is love. It’s perfect in it’s imperfections. 

A happy but crappy 2015

We have already entered the second month of 2016, the rat race is becoming more and more real.

However, for me 2016 hasn’t really started. The reason for this is because I had so much of 2015 that spilled into 2016. It has really stopped me from starting to really enjoy the new year.

Like most people I had all the intentions of having a better 2016. Happier and healthier with bigger and better plans. However, I couldn’t go ahead with 2016 as 2015 was still dragging me down.

You see, not all of 2015 was bad. Our second baby was born in April, we celebrated three birthdays and our first wedding anniversary. The bad parts were really bad and brought my moral down immensely.

I was retrenched during my maternity leave. And although this is kind of illegal in the current South-African Labour Law, there are quite a few ways of wriggling yourself out of it.

My case was referred at the CCMA (Commission for Conciliation Arbitration and Mediation) and I was hoping that it will be finalised at the very first meeting. Unfortunately the second meeting, which was Arbitration was only scheduled to take place late in January 2016. Needless to say, working for HR Practitioners made winning my case a little bit more difficult.
Remember how I said how there are many ways to wriggle yourself out of justifying why you retrench someone?  That’s exactly what my previous employers did.

I received the outcome of my case on Thursday evening, and I was upset. Really, really upset. Maybe pissed off is a better description of the emotions that I experienced.

You probably figured by now that I lost the case. And this is why I got upset:
1. As an HR practitioner myself, I really have lost all faith in the system I have believed for many years to be neutral and unbiased. I guess that’s not the case. Maybe more, how one party can bullshit the commissioner more OR perhaps it was a case of “who you know.”
2. I still love my field of work. But, my previous employers made me realise that I never want to be as unethical as they are. And they are part of the problem of why employees dislike the HR Department.

My husband made me realise a few things. I now have a job where I am appreciated, not where I am picked on continuously even if my work is 150% perfect. I don’t have to drive and sit in traffic every morning and every evening. I have the opportunity to fetch our oldest and talk to her about her day at school. I’m not missing out on her childhood anymore. And although I missed out on a lot during my pregnancy and didn’t enjoy my second pregnancy as I had my first. I now have the opportunity to spend an extra few minutes with my baby in the evenings.

I’d like to thank my previous employers for retrenching me. It was a blessing in disguise. My quality of life has improved so much more since I am no longer your employee. Therefore, thank you. Thank you very much. One day the wheel will turn.

I am now able to move on with my life and put the seven months I wasted for them behind me. I can only count this as a learning experience in my life and accept the lessons learned.

2016 can from now on only improve and move on to better, bigger and greater things.

The realisation

Like the most things in life, any invention or great discovery was sparked by an idea. My blog become just that, a thought the night our second baby was born.

You might think that this is a weird moment to decide to start blogging, but allow me to explain.

I have always been a creative. Not artsy fartsy creative, I never felt like I belonged with the creative’s at varsity. But I need something as a release in order to escape from the everyday.

The Easter 2015 long weekend started off with me and my bump off to the hospital for our weekly check-up. The plan was to go to church afterwards, but like most doctor’s appointments, the gynae was a bit behind schedule due to an emergency C-section.

So the Church plan fell through and we decided to have our fish lunch and I started unpacking boxes (yes, we moved into our new place two days prior). Unpacking boxes ended up me starting to nest and I could not sit still. But, do not for one moment think anything was ready for the arrival of our newest addition. No, her crib was still in a box, no clothes unpacked into the chest of drawers. NOTHING. On late Sunday afternoon we finally went to church. Well, my water broke after church. Good timing right? Not so much, but everything happens for a reason.

I was admitted to hospital on 5 April 2015, already dilated. I spent half the night alone in hospital, as much as I would have wanted my husband there, he had to go back home as our oldest was crying for him.

After spending another long lonely day in hospital filled with check-ups and walking up and down endless amounts of stairs. Nothing much exciting happened.

The gynae decided to give me magic tablets to quicken my labour and around 19:00 the nurses moved me to the delivery room. After one hour and fourty minutes of full on labour, our newest addition entered the world at 20:40. Naturally. No medication.

And this is where the idea was sparked. My body had just endured a lot. As I got out of the shower, I caught a glimpse of my “new” body.

It was far from the body I had as a 21 year old. It wasn’t firm anymore; in fact my tummy resembled cookie dough. Mushy and soft from stretching for 9 months. My breasts weren’t perky anymore. They had grown to the size of a small melon preparing to nourish my baby.

In that raw emotional state I thought to myself: “Your body might not look like that 21 year old anymore. But in your imperfections you are actually still perfect.”

My body had changed. My life had changed for a second time. I was a mother again.

And that’s when it really sank in.

Nothing will ever be the same again, and this journey is just going to become more interesting.

Image found here.