‘Going Green’

**WARNING- The following post may cause emotional changes to women considering motherhood and sensitive readers 😛 **
***Disclaimer- I will not be held responsible for these changes 😉 ***

If you think this post is about the environment you are mistaken. This ‘green’ is a very different shade indeed.
If you remember watching cartoons you will know that the characters usually turn green when feeling ill. Being a mother requires having quite a strong stomach. Unfortunately I haven’t been blessed with one. I’m sure I was out shoe shopping on the day that this program was installed into the already existing ‘Mommy Program’. Therefore dealing with the different bodily fluids usually leaves me running, teary eyed, in the opposite direction, shouting for someone else’s (husband or helper) while gagging, pointing and hand-fanning myself (I’m not sure how that’s suppose to help).


I discovered that this is not restricted to humans, as I had a similar reaction when my puppy was car sick as we transported him to my dad. Everyone present seemed to find it amusing as I walked around in circles, hand-fanning myself (again?!), trying extremely hard not to throw up.

But these tendencies run in my family, so I blame genetics. My sisters suffer from the same problems and car sickness (ah so that’s where my 3yr old gets it from). I remember as a child it was a known fact that if one of us gets sick and throws up, it’s usually followed by the rest of us throwing up as well- meaning piles of cleaning up for my parents. To this day I wonder how they coped with it. My oldest sister has the full version of the ‘Mommy program and I often admire her strength during stomach turning moments. My older son has inherited my sensitivity in this regard, and I recall when his brother was just a few months old, and brought up some of his milk (as babies often do ), he came to me, face wrinkled, gagging, saying to me ,” Mummy….(gag)….boy….(gag) made oolti (vomit)!” Yes, we referred to the baby as ‘Boy’ for a while. He has adapted though, and on a recent drive home, when his brother was car sick, I found my 5 yr old looking out of the window happily chatting to himself and completely ignoring the chaos next to him. It seems, if he doesn’t see it… it doesn’t bother him 🙂


I began watching the comedy series ‘How I met your met your mother’ and I discovered the “Olive Theory” which I happen to believe in. The Olive Theory is based on the concept that in every relationship there needs to balance. Therefore in this respect, one person loves olives while the other does not. In this manner there is peace in the relationship as there is an understanding of who eats what when presented with a bowl of Greek salad. This theory has been proven in my home and brings me to my ‘Oolti’ (vomit) theory, which functions on the same level as the Olive Theory. This has also been proven in my home as my husband deals with the bloody noses and gastro phases.
I have evolved somewhat and have learnt to cope with some of these situations on my own. Or at least I have been forced to. Just when I thought I was beginning to make progress I was faced with a ‘this only happens to a mother’ situation.

My son had a small bout of gastro on my recent visit to my mum’s home that began at about 11 pm. I dealt with it the entire night and it seemed to settle down. The next day I decided to give him a meal as he had not eaten well and seemed to be recovering from the bug. As I fed him he began feeling uncomfortable but I did not pick up on it. Some food had fallen out of the plate so I bent down to pick it up and at that exact moment my son threw up…directly into my hair and ear. I stood frozen for a second, my neurons racing to make sense of the wetness that had just hit me. The look on my face seems to have said it all to my wide eyed son standing beside me. I dropped the plate in my hand and made a dash to the bathroom leaving my son starring after me. Upon my return, my son quietly said to me,” Sorry mummy… I made oolti in your hair.” Murphy’s Law, I had just washed my hair about 30 minutes before this.

I did feel bad for him and looking at his face, puppy dog eyes, I had no choice but to accept his apology. Fortunately my sisters weren’t there…so the clean up was limited to one persons stomach contents. I did manage to see the humorous side to this disgusting incident-but this has unfortunately set me back slightly in my battle against going green!

~~ BiBi ~~



I beg your pardon…

9 outta 10x

We are all different, yet all the same. And if you doubt this keep reading as the ‘guilty as charged smile‘starts to spread across your face…

When you’re a mother of a few, normal activities become luxuries… a relaxing shower… a hot meal or cup of tea, trying to write a shopping list without small hands grabbing at the pen… and as you sit there, pulling out all sorts of things from your (unwashed) hair you wonder whether it’s like this for everyone- and let me confirm that it is!

As mothers we know that the kids will grow up and there will come a time when your life will be your own once again…and this thought keeps us going. But along the way we look for little moments that make us feel proud to have these little chocolate-faced, sleep-thieves as our blood. And we need this….Desperately! It somehow validates us as mothers.

We all believe that our children are the most amazing and intelligent ones ever born. You know this for yourself, when your child does something wonderful you want to take credit for it. If he has good manners- it’s because you instilled these in him. If he shares his toys or food, it’s because you have thought him to be generous. If he shows some form of intelligence beyond his 5 year old brain –it must be your good genes that have passed on to him. By the same token, should he throw tantrums, behave rudely, say absurd things… these are as a result of some defective gene (not of your heritage) that somehow made its way into the batch of ‘amazing’ genes you provided. Either this or someone else (husband…mother in-law..father in-law…brother in-law…sister in-law…[do you see the pattern] or that strange aunt/uncle that no one wants to invite home anymore) takes the wrap. 🙂

Now what I’m trying to say is that we should enjoy these proud moments…draw them out, milk them…try to get every ounce of goodness and glory out of them- without guilt…it is our right!

My 5yr old has provided me with some really interesting voice notes and phone calls to family members. I wanted them to hear him using the word ‘atmosphere’ (in the correct context) and explain how rain is formed…yes it’s true… I have birthed a genius!! Recently he has been saying things that make me stop what I’m doing and pause to check if I’ve heard correctly. While talking to me the other day he said to me, “What would you prefer mummy”….and at the supper table he also asked, “Is it necessary for me to eat the chicken also?” Needless to say I walked around thereafter like a peacock… claiming full credit for his excellent manners and advanced vocabulary…I am after all an English teacher. (Yes I completely ignored the little voice in the back of my head arguing that it could be the excellent school he attends.) 🙂

Now the reason I say that we need to really milk these moments is because they don’t often last very long…

Two days later a friend of mine brought my boys home after an afternoon activity. She had her domestic helper with and well… the helper was well rounded (to say the least). She had a rear with a slight jiggle to it.‎ As we said our goodbyes and they began to leave, my 3yr old points to the domestic walking away and says loudly,” Hey … Look at her butt!”… a phrase he obviously ‎heard before. shocked-woman

And just like that… the feeling was gone! That ‘rogue’ gene making its presence known yet again!
… It seems my Husband has some serious explaining to do!‎

At the time of going to press, the party involved denied all responsibility and the matter is still under investigation 😉

*** My proof readers ( my 4 sisters) always get the 1st glimpse of my new posts. They are also the first to hear about my experiences. They have brought to my attention that they would also like some acknowledgment for the good genes provided considering it’s their ‘blood ‘ as well!
So today, I acknowledge the good genes they inherited from my sisters… and happily share my proud, (yes-hes-my-child), broad grin, peacock moments with them ‎;)

~~~ BiBi ~~~

kids say...