From unblocking sewerage pipes to saving a baby from a burning building: CT’s sewer team does it all
Our days are a collage of buzz and rush, one chore blurring seamlessly into the next.
Meet someone who adds the descriptor “blogger” after their title of “mommy / daddy”… and you will have found a person who spends countless (often thankless) hours giving shape to stories that they might share, in the hope of inspiring and encouraging other parents.
Being a blogger is more than concocting something to write. The definition of a blogger should read as follows – Mother, Father, friend, woman, man; striving to better the world one word at a time.
You see, like every other parent out there. A blogger has all the same responsibilities, yet they sit until midnight sharing thier story with others. Why you ask? Because they believe that parents have a voice that should be heard, they believes that thier story may touch a heart, inspire a soul and maybe, just maybe add a ray of sunshine to an otherwise difficult day.
A Blogger who is a parent is an activist for other parents. They fight the fight. Protecting what we all hold so dear to our hearts. Our families.
There’s no better feeling than being in a space where you know exactly what you want out of life. It has taken me many years filled with profound disappointments, considerable hardships and heartbreaks to finally reach this pivotal point. But it hasn’t come easy.
I’ve had to make some major life changes in the past two years of my life. It all started with our move to a small town in KZN. I suddenly had all this time in my hands, I genuinely knew that God had graciously granted me with the opportunity to start again. An opportunity to live a more purposeful and content life, in my own terms.
Many have empathised with the pain of a mother. I now try to understand the oft-neglected pain of a father. The father of my children.
I have sympathized with my husband. I have been intentional about being physically available to him. And yet, for the first time I realise I have never put myself in his shoes.
This must be what breaks marriages. We have gone through the fight of our lives, and yet we have done it without being able to lean on each other. I have not been the long-haired beauty that bathed her warrior’s wounds in the tent by night. We have been soldiers fighting alongside each other, calling in the medics to attend.
It is not okay that kids are being medicated in order for teachers to be able to “handle them”. It is not okay that our kids are feeling like being different is wrong. It is not okay that they are not being guided, nurtured and loved. It is not okay that we are trusting that they are being kept safe at a place of education… only for them to be more unsafe there than anywhere else. I do not need to tell you the effects bullying can have on a child.
I will show you the scars on my wrists if you really don’t get it.
A teacher can make or break a child. Some teachers have absolutely no business being in this profession, and the schools that allow them to practice their profession the way they do have no business working with children.
My biggest mistake of 2018 was placing Mikayla in a school that did not feel quite right from the beginning.
But, with all that being said, one thing you must be clear of my darling girl is that you are not a replacement. I repeat: You are not a replacement. And the void in my heart caused by our loss will always remain. That is not your purpose in this life. Not your responsibilty, nor will it ever be something that we will lay upon your shoulders. It never should be. It is not something I want to bury in any case. For that child will always be a part of me. A part of us; This family. I have zero desire to ever forget that little life. There is no shame in that child’s memory. And I have no intention of ever trying to hide from it.
A bit of humour too, in the other post:
However, Mike and I at that point were having a hilariously odd discussion about this cable guy…with him pleading his case in between my surges. And me breathing and surging as my counter-argument mostly. Eventually I caved… with conditions…Cable guy had one hour to finish up, or until I pull the cord on him. Mike wisely agreed to this. I half laughingly shook my head about it all, as I still couldn’t believe THIS was how my “peaceful Home HypnoBirth“ was going down: An extremely busy home, with a doorbell that can’t be switched off, with strange workmen in bibs marching in and out, and a midwife that wasn’t experienced in HypnoBirthing….HAHAHA…of course!
Some beautiful photography here…
I’ll be honest and say that if I didn’t have to take my daughter to school I would live in my pjs. It’s not a great habit and I don’t know why I keep doing it because on the mornings when I change into ‘real clothes’ I feel great. Even if you don’t have time for that amazing morning shower, change your clothes and shoes and feel like a normal person.
Whether it’s telling the group that young Cassidy has switched to Ritalin, or that her husband doesn’t lift a finger at home, this mom has forgotten that it’s not call to talk to mostly strangers about things that should remain private.
This mom will also likely send you pictures of the slimming pills she’s selling as she’s noticed some of the moms might looking for a product like this.
I was one of those moms who swore that sleep training was the most selfish, inhumane thing a mother could do to her child, obviously something this mom would NEVER do (Oh the humor of life). After trying EVERYTHING (natural remedies, massages, co-sleeping, not co-sleeping, routines, earlier bedtimes, later bedtimes, changing naptimes, protein at night, no sugar, no tv time, dark room, night lamp, white noise, weighted blanket – if you can think of it we tried it) I were forced to look at the very last option available to us as parents – the forbidden sleep training.
I do understand that some might say, “It’s just a sign,” and moms or dads can park there, but in the same breath, there is no reason why these signs cannot include dads. I don’t expect the malls to change the signage to “Mom, Dad & Tot” signs. Something as simple as “Parent & Child Parking” would be great. We are all equal parts in this parenting journey, and this needs to be represented, especially in the media. When it comes to parenting, almost everything is aimed at moms, and while there is nothing wrong with this, dads also want to feel acknowledged.
In the words of our final judge, Sonya Naude: “The writer of the winning blog for me, took the edge, not because she is the strongest writer, or the layout of her blog is slick and designer friendly, but because it’s so real. This super mom wears her heart on her sleeve, and every post reflects her gutsy determination to be true to herself and her family.”
I’m constantly preaching about living your best life and stepping away from things that no longer bring positivity into your life. Staying would have been the damn easy option especially seeing as there are no issues of abuse or adultery, but staying would have also made me a complete and utter hypocrite. This was in no way an easy decision. Divorce is one of those situations were there are no winners. There was no celebration, or sigh of relief or divorce party (like what’s that about anyway?). We are all extremely sad and will need time to properly deal and come to terms with this. Divorce is an emotional roller-coaster that turns your life upside down, but getting divorced with confidence after carefully weighing the pros and cons is key.
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