She's a Perfect 10

I told her to find a safe place for her
glasses each night

Today my little Tomato has entered the world of double digits, she is "two hands," 10 years old. She's not so little anymore......

She, of course is over the moon to be a year older, but this year I'm not sharing her joy as much as I have on her other birthdays. As I reflect back on the past decade, what the hell happened? Ten years? That's cray cray. In seven years she will be writing her learner's license and expect us to put her behind the wheel of a car, when just seven short years ago she was still in a night nappy! It didn't help that the first thing she said to me this morning was "I'm half way to twenty!" *gulp*

She misses my mom terribly
and often draws pictures of her

When Tomato was born, a friend warned me, "don't wish her life away, it goes by so fast." I listened to that friend and thought about that advice many times over the past 10 years. When as an infant, Tomato didn't want to sleep, but preferred to cry from feed to feed, I stopped myself willing her to grow out of her infancy quickly and sleep through the night so that I could stop being zombie-mom. When finally she was sleeping through the night and teething hit, I dredged out those words and mulled them over. When night terrors made her sit bolt upright in bed and scream at the top of her lungs until I ran to comfort her, I remembered those words. 

Dressing up her brother

As the milestones came and went, I would think to myself "the years are flying by, my friend was right." But it took a lot of effort not to wish days, weeks, months away when life got tough. And boy did life get tough for this little girl. I often joked that if something was wrong with one of our children, it was bound to be with Tomato. We all went to the dentist, only Tomato needed fillings. We all went to the Optholmologist, Tomato needed glasses, the other two have 20/20 vision. One of her eyes was found to be "lazy" and we waged war every day for almost 3 years as I forced her to put a patch over one eye for 2 hours a day as recommended to increase her permanent vision. Many times she would cry so much the patch would slide off. 

Obviously her skin issues, which I have documented extensively on many other blog posts, brought a whole new minefield when I dragged her from doctor to specialist to "woo-woo" expert, desperately trying to find the elusive cure. I watched my happy little girl become depressed and desperate. I've also watched as her little body became bloated from the extensive cortisone that was prescribed and how her swollen body and raw skin would create a rift between her and the other children as she was teased and later bullied because she was in constant pain so was labelled as "weird." She just withdrew futher into herself. She is very sensitive and just as she was able to begin re-building her lost confidence, other issues came to the fore. The side-effects of that medication were the oppposite of cortisone and she lost weight almost overnight and while the medication worked, the physical side-affects were detrimental so they were stopped. Then last year my mom passed away and this has hit her very hard. This little girl, although only 10 years old, has had enough turmoil for someone double her age.

Concert Order of Events

No trolls? 

Sometimes in life you get thrown a curve ball. Tomato is my curve ball. Before she was born my life was going exactly as I thought it should, everything was going as planned. Suddenly along came someone who, not only doesn't want to draw in the lines, she doesn't even see the lines! She sees the beauty in everything and has such a huge heart. She loves anything arty and loves to please, although she wants her own way and will fight to the death to get it! I have learned that time is irrelevant to her, even though it is a war at home for us getting anywhere on time, she has taught me to chill a bit and not worry so much about being late. For my A-type personality this has been a challenge. Her love for animals is immense and her greatest wish is to have her own dog. She sees pictures in clouds and soap suds when the car is getting washed and she can get lost in her imagination for hours. She choreographs plays (and ropes in her brother and sister to perform), she dresses her brother up in dresses as often as she can, and she loves to dance and sing her own songs that she's made up, like a mad-thing. She has a fantastic sense of humour and loves a good knock-knock joke.

When Tomato broke my special bowl,
I got this note offering to replace it

My goal with my children has always been to keep them as young as possible for as long as possible, to prolong their childhoods. While this has worked to an extent, I see Tomato growing up and becoming a tween and entering that era of discovery of both herself and the world around her. I love that she sometimes still takes my hand while we're shopping, the extra hugs at night and the quick cuddles (when she's in the mood.) I can feel these are happening less and less as she exerts her independence. Soon I will become uncool and embarrassing (say what?) I'm sure the time is coming and it's scary. From the quiet, shy, introverted little girl who wouldn't speak to anyone, Tomato is coming out of her shell and happily asks shop assistants for the price of items that she wants and orders her own food at restaurants. She is blossoming. 

My wish for my little Tomato is that all the negatives that she has gone through in her short life, remain in the past 10 years and the next 10 are fantastic positive years full of wonder, excitement and discovery (without giving mom and dad too many grey hairs in the process!) 

18 Months Later - The Crazy Eczema Mom

Before Dr Aron

I can't believe it's been 18 months already! I really did mean to write this blog post earlier, it was supposed to be an "Aronversary" post (Dr Aron Anniversary) but life happens. Funny how much time I now have on my hands, not having to constantly worry about bleach bathing, wet wrapping and smearing on every cream under the sun! When people ask how on earth I managed to enjoy life when Tomato had severe eczema? I can answer quite honestly that I didn't enjoy life at all, it was an endless struggle of coping, by putting one foot in front of the other, but no more! The "dark days of eczema" are behind us. It has now been a year and a half since I discovered Dr Aron and his amazing regimen, and our lives have changed completely, so it's time for a fun, happy post, where I throw myself under the bus (for your entertainment) and share all the cray-cray things I did in an attempt to get help for my little girl before finding Dr A.

Tomato does not like to talk about her eczema, so it really has become a distant bad memory. What brought it home for me today, and prompted me to write this follow-up, is that the mornings are getting cold here in South Africa, so Tomato wore tights to school for the first time since starting the Aron Regimen. When she got home she took them off and looked incredulous as they slid off her legs! I laughed at the look on her face and asked her what she was thinking and she replied "look, they just come right off!" I was puzzled and asked what she meant. She reminded me of how the tights used to stick to her eczema wounds and I would put her in the bath after school, with her stockings on, to soak and soften the scabs underneath and then gently peel the tights off trying not to damage her skin and make her bleed too badly. Sometimes, when it was too painful, I would be forced to cut the material off around the wounds, cutting slowly around each stuck area with tiny nail scissors and she would walk around with black bits of material stuck to the wounds. I had completely blocked out forgotten this horror and had no idea that that is why she didn't want to wear stockings last year, like her sister. Look how far we have come!

My story has been well-documented in various blog posts that I have written, prior to, and after finding Dr Aron. Some of the earlier posts were really horrible, I battle to read them myself and the photos take me back to a time that I would rather forget. Click on the following links if you'd like to see them or catch up on our eczema trials and tribulations:

Skin Deep

The Eczema Chronicles

Is Avene the miracle we've been waiting for?

The Day I Found Dr Richard Aron and our Healing Journey Began

What is TSA and RSS?

Three Months After Starting with Dr Richard Aron

Nine Months Later with Dr Richard Aron

Meeting Dr Aron

Crazy Mom

I'm not completely mad, I promise but remember desperate times call for desperate measures, and we were desperate!

The time when Tomato was put under anaesthetic to have a tooth filled and I begged the anaesthetist if I could come into the theatre while she was knocked out and put cortisone (steroid) cream on her bleeding skin so that she wouldn't be aware of it burning. After a quick psychological analysis (later I learned that I was being assessed to see if I would freak out seeing my child lying lifeless on an operating table, because once the anaesthetic kicks in and the child goes limp, some parents can't deal with it) I was allowed to apply the steroids all over her and the nurses helped!  [note to self: it is VERY freaky to see your child under anaesthetic, when their limbs are limp and heavy and they look dead!] 

*****

The time when, because of Tomato's eczema-induced anxiety, when the Naturopath needed 21 vials of blood, I asked the same anaesthetist mentioned above (she's never forgotten me) to put Tomato under anaesthetic to draw the blood. I felt like I was on Gray's Anatomy, suited up, passing blood vials to the anaesthetist, who was taking the blood, and I was re-attaching the mask on my daughter's face every time she began surfacing (it was a light anaesthetic) all the while watching her heart rate and oxygen levels which couldn't dip below certain levels. Then I grabbed the samples and ran outside to hubby who was waiting in the "getaway car" to get the blood to the lab within the 30 minute window period for one of the more sensitive tests. We were both nervous wrecks! 

*****

Then the time I told a well-respected Dermatologist that he was "sick in his head" when he told me to hold my screaming 4 year old down and cream her even though it burned her! When I looked horrified and Tomato started sobbing and crept further into the corner of his room with big eyes, he condescendingly asked who the adult was in the situation, making out that it was my fault as I was bigger and stronger than her so it shouldn't be a problem to overpower her. I almost left without paying - how cruel. On the upside, as I was paying Tomato was clinging to my leg and shaking and said "Mommy that doctor was very scary" and I said loudly so that the whole waiting room could hear "Don't worry Sweetie, that doctor is an idiot and we're not going to do anything he said we should!" (Maybe this is why people remember me, and not in a good way!")

*****

The times when I was so desperate for time out, I would leave the house as soon as hubby came home to take over and go to the supermarket. I would take a trolley and walk up and down the aisles of the supermarket crying my eyes out. I'm sure the staff thought I was insane as I would be in the store for ages, covering every square inch many times, but never buying anything, just crying for my little girl who was screaming from the bath water and ripping her skin apart at home. 

*****

Then the time when I was convinced that Tomato was allergic to water because she was fine until she put a toe into the bath and then the itching would start. I was investigating different ways to clean her little body without water. She was getting dirtier and dirtier while I tried different waterless techniques! 

*****

Spraying Avene Thermal Water on her mythical RSS

Then the time I was told she had Red Skin Syndrome (RSS which is a total myth) because her skin looked sunburned, but her skin was red and sore because of the bacteria. I spent hours putting tissue paper all over her body and spraying her cool with Avene thermal water to cool her down. She looked like a wet mummy!! Great in summer, but winter was not so much fun.

*****

Then the time when, twice daily I would hide a big squeeze of steroid cream in the Vaseline jar (because they look alike) so that Tomato couldn't see that it was Advantan Fatty Ointment (steroid), as I applied it to her many bleeding areas. She hated all the creams, so I had to be devious.

*****

Then the time I took Tomato to a spiritual healer. Tops were swung, mirrors were waved around, stones were thrown, energy was moved around and there was a lot of "hand swishing"" around her. She was sent home with natural probiotics and herbs.

*****

Then the time I took Tomato to a hypnotherapist. She would NOT look at the pendulum and refused point blank to even try. She just kept her eyes shut. Money.Well.Spent. I then Googled hypnotherapy scripts to read to her while she slept (which was hardly ever) telling her that she should be calm and not scratch - haha.

*****

Then the time I took Tomato to an Iridologist (they check your eyes). Prognosis: she needed more sleep. Duh!! Seriously??? Don't you think I know that? She's scratching all.night.long. She was sent home with Melatonin.

*****

Then the time I had to cut a lock of Tomato's hair and give it to an exorcist who would remove the bad spirit that had entered her body. This would take place from afar! I'm not kidding! When I say we tried everything, we tried EVERYTHING! I only agreed to this because she didn't have to go there. Seemed very woo woo to me, I don't like dealing with this type of thing as I was brought up as a church-goer, but we were desperate.

*****

Then the time I took her to a Body Talk practitioner. I was told to bath her in Avocado oil to heal her skin. I did that and she had a massive flare while still in the bath! But to be honest, I am thankful, as that was the day that I broke down and started looking online for a solution.

*****

Then my absolute favourite blunder of all time........ telling Dr Aron on the phone that he sounded like a used car salesman because he promised me that, even though everything else I had tried hadn't worked, his cream would. And when I told him that I had heard it all before and I didn't think it would be any different this time, he told me I was going to eat those words and I said I would do so with pleasure (because even though I hoped it would work, I didn't want to be disappointed as I had before.) Today I am happily eating those words and admitting I was wrong!

The crazy list goes on and on and on........ thank you Dr Aron for not only giving me back my sanity, but giving me back my happy, smiling, itch-free little girl who was lost for 5 and a half years!!

Before eczema

Find out more about the Aron Regimen

https://www.facebook.com/groups/draron/

https://www.facebook.com/draronpage/

www.instagram.com/draronpatients

www.eczemasense.com

Twitter @draroneczema

On the AR

Epic Parenting Fail

School has just gone back to begin the second term and Tomato has decided to start a new extra mural. Because the extra mural ends later than usual, I collect her on my way back from work, so it's just the two of us in the car driving home.

While driving in the congested traffic, we discuss many different things. Yesterday we were stuck behind a truck for, what seemed like, an eternity. After covering numerous topics, I noticed the number plate on the truck started with the letters FRT. I was suddenly reminded of how, as kids, we used to make up names from the number plates. So, chuckling to myself, I said to Tomato "what word would you come up with using FRT?" [Now let me mention at this point, I was actually using this as a "teaching moment" because Tomato struggles with spelling and English in general, so I was very surprised and impressed with her answer.]

"First" said Tomato proudly! I had to do a second take, because as kids, we just added in a vowel and that was the word, so I was not expecting an extra letter, so I said "oh *gulp* yes, very well done, but if you just add ONE vowel what word do you get?" I saw her straining her brain to get to the answer that was so obvious to me that I was almost ready to blurt it out. But wait...... I saw the realisation dawning on her face..... she looked at me with a naughty look and said "Mommy!! That is a bad word!" Yay!! The teaching moment was paying off, I thought to myself proudly.
"Yes I know it's not a very nice word, but just say it"
"Do you really want me to say the bad word mommy?" she looked shocked. Hmmm now here's a bit of an ethical dilemma, I don't usally allow bad language at home, but now I was asking her to say it. Not ideal, but teaching wins over bad words, so I replied "Sure, just this once, becaise I want to know that you got it right. What vowel did you use?"
"I used a U" [Huh? That alone should have sounded a warning bell.]
"'U'? No it should be an 'A'. Sound the word out."
"I've got it!" She shrieked. "Must I really say it?"
"Yes! Say it!" I encouraged her, so pleased that she had finally worked it out........

"F*ck" she announced proudly! I nearly crashed the car.
"Whaaat?? NOOOOO!!! FART! IT SPELLS FART!! There's no 'C' or 'K', how on earth did you get that from FRT?"

*silence*

Tomato was upset with me because she got the word wrong and I was stunned that she got that word from those letters. She was mad because she had sworn, but madder that I had told her to do it and then got mad. I was lementing my foolishness for starting the conversation in the first place.

I will never forget the day that I not only made my daughter say "The F-word" out loud, but I encouraged her to say it. Needless to say, the rest of the drive was about "very bad" words and just "bad" words and how to tell the difference. *Sigh* parenting.

Divorce is Not The End, it is the Beginning of a New Chapter

A few weeks ago, a friend of mine's ex-husband passed away after a long illness. It was incredibly sad. He was in his 40's and his children are still of school-going age.

I'm not sure of the exact details, but my friend dated him at school and they were married for quite some time before they divorced. Both parties eventually re-married and life continued. With children in the mix, there was always a fair amount of organising to ensure both parents got to spend quality time with their children. In order for this to happen, constant communication between the two was necessary. I'm sure in the beginning the conversations were strained, with emotions running high, having to talk to "the ex" but as the years passed, the conversations had grown into friendly, respectful and upbeat encounters, instead of sharp and abrupt messages. Both parents had wisely nurtured this relationship as co-parents to their beautiful children.

This is what good parents do, they put their childrens' needs above their own and build a new relationship with their child's other parent. I'm sure there were debates and disagreements along the way but these children weren't made to feel like pawns in a chess game, which often happens with divorce, they felt loved and had good relationships with both sets of parents.

The reason for this post, is that I watched the social process of this death from the outside and it really disturbed me. When the dad died, Facebook lit up with messages of love and sympathy and support for the family (social media really comes into its own during drastic, life-changing events.) Many messages were generic but some were intensely personal, remembering specific events that friends and family had enjoyed with the deceased, some knowing him for longer than 30 years. The messages were heartbreaking and everyone reached out to his wife and children, often tagging them and offering support. This was really lovely and must have given the family so much strength during their darkest hour.

What disturbed me, was that NOT ONE person mentioned "the ex," the mother of the deceased's children who now has the difficult task of helping her children navigate the turbulent waters of life without their father's guidance. The woman, who once stood at the alter, starry-eyed, imagining loving this man to eternity, the woman who had loved him and had his children, who had shared her hopes and fears and opened her soul to him during their time together, was hurting. She too had suffered a massive loss. I understand that the marriage was over and I'm not saying that she was still IN love with the man, but she definitely still loved him. He would always have a special place in her heart that nobody else could have, not romantically, but in a shared life-experience way, as her children's father. There will never be another call to talk about the kids, to rejoice in their achievements and commiserate in their disappointments. Having someone in your life for 28 years and then having them yanked from it, leaves a hole.

When I sent my friend a message to give her some support as she prepared for the funeral, I addressed this issue with her and she admitted that she was incredibly hurt. She knew her place, she was not the widow, but she was something. Those long-term friends who had posted personal messages and sent condolences to the family, had once been friends of hers too, they had been at her house, eaten at her table. Obviously in a divorce, friends will pick a side, but they knew her and they must have known that she was hurting, if nothing more than for her seeing her children lose their dad, but not a word was uttered typed to console her. Her final words haunted me, enough to write this post to remind people that although it's a tricky situation, keeping the peace with the new wife and not treading on toes, a simple text or phone call to "the ex" to express condolences, would not go amiss.

The words she wrote were as follows:
Reading all the messages has been heartbreaking. Not one acknowledgement to me the ex-wife.Who says my heart is not as sore as any one else? I just want to scream "Hello! I'm here too!" I'm so sad. It's like I was and am now nothing. I will just have to face the ugliness of it all. I am dreading the funeral but will be there to support my children, and my husband will be there to support me, as I say my final goodbye to the man who once was my life.

Meeting Dr Aron - A Dream Come True

For over a year we have used a medication on our young child, from a Dermatologist whom we had never met. Crazy huh? To be honest, when we started this treatment on our daughter, my husband and I told very few people. We only told our "inner circle." These are the people who had walked the long road of severe Atopic Dermatitis with us and had seen the way it destroyed relationships, family cohesion and eroded our child's self-esteem. The non-judgemental people who realised that we were desperate, sleep-deprived and had tried everything possible to save our little girl from her life of hell and understood why we were reluctantly putting our trust in a specialist who we had discovered on the Internet. Well it wasn't long before I was shouting it from the rooftops! We had found relief! It wasn't a cure but it was the start of the first "normal" year of my family's life! "Quality of life" now has new meaning to our family.

My mom passed away in September and as Christmas drew closer, I knew that I couldn't stay home and have Christmas in the same way I had done since my childhood, it would be too sad without my mom. I kept thinking of a song she liked from Joseph and His Technicolour Dream Coat with the lyrics "There's one less place at our table, there's one more tear in my eye" and I knew I couldn't handle that empty chair. So we decided on the spur of the moment to go away. Hubby and I asked the kids where they wanted to go on holiday and they all agreed on one place. Since her skin had healed many months before,Tomato had asked begged almost daily, to fly to Cape Town to meet the doctor who had helped her. After being put through the trauma of visiting doctor after doctor and applying cream after burning cream for five and a half years, it was amazing that this invisible doctor on the other side of an email, had achieved what no other could. It just didn't seem real. Tomato and I loved this man whom we had never met and only seen on an Internet video. I agreed with her, we had to go meet and thank this man.

Tomato with her hero

We compromised on the flying, borrowed Grampa's car (with TVs in the back - thanks Grampa!) and drove down to Cape Town. The trip was pretty amazing with 3 little noses glued to a screen! Our family has a "no screens during the week" policy, so they couldn't believe their luck at being able to watch movie after movie on an eighteen hour trip.

"What did you just say?"

Before we left I contacted Dr Aron's lovely wife Kate and asked if we could pop in for a visit. The Arons were on holiday but went out of their way to make a plan for Tomato to meet her hero at their holiday home, three days before Christmas. We drove the extra distance and all five of us descended on the Aron family! Tomato is a very sensitive child, so she began getting nervous as we got closer and I was reminded of how she used to tear her skin apart when she was nervous before. I have always watched TV shows with interest as people eventually meet their hero, usually a pop icon or actor. I have never been star-struck with any star, even my favourites, so I could imagine the excitement but I never felt it, until that day! Even I had started to become a bit nervous and excited as I was about to meet the man who had put his hand out to pull us all out of the black hole, where many others had purely dangled the carrot of hope without follow-through. 

Sharing a joke with Dr A

The poor man was attacked by us as he walked out his front door! After a year, we eventually got to meet, hug and thank the man who gave us back our daughter and allowed our lives to have some semblance of normality! It was surreal. He was human, with a great sense of humour too. We had a lovely afternoon with Dr A and Kate and the kids loved playing with the dogs and meeting Dr A's daughters and grandson. I think I was a bit gushy so eventually Dr A dryly stated that he would be at their holiday home for a few weeks and proposed that I come through each day between 2 and 4pm for hug-time haha! Little did he know that if he had been closer to where we were staying, I would have taken him up on that offer!!

Many patients had travelled to meet Dr Aron in Chicago where he presented his Aron Regime, and I think Tomato felt a bit left out that other children were meeting her hero but she hadn't. As we were leaving Tomato whispered to me "I think I'm the only special one who has been to Dr Aron's holiday house" and she was on cloud nine! After having one two more hugs and thanking the Arons for their hospitality, we started the two hour drive back to where we were staying, along the beautiful Cape coastline. It slowly dawned on me that both Tomato and I could tick one more item off our bucket lists. 

Thank you Dr Aron and Kate.

Tomato, Me, Kate and Dr Aron

Links to other blogs I have written about the Aron Regime and our journey with Atopic Eczema:

Skin Deep
The Eczema Chronicles
Is Avene the miracle we've been waiting for?
The Day I Found Dr Richard Aron and our Healing Journey Began
What is TSA and RSS?
Three Months After Starting with Dr Richard Aron
Nine Months Later with Dr Richard Aron

#eczema
#atopiceczema
#draron
#drrichardaron
#sufferingwitheczema
#eczemasense

www.draron.com

Moulding the Young Minds of the Future Generations

I've said it before and I'll say it again, one of THE most boring parts of my job as a marketing and business lecturer, is having to invigilate exams. Yes I get a lot of steps on my pedometer, but I would prefer to be lecturing. One of the most fascinating things about exams though, is how students react to them. First they are panicked and then they turn to their "good luck" charms and paraphernalia. I have dedicated a blog post to this in the past called Testing testing 1-2-3 which goes into how I have kept myself amused during exam times and a few more posts relating to things my students have said and done.You can find them here: Pearls of Wisdom, We Digress..... and We Don't Need No Education if you haven't seen them yet.

But as I embark on my 5th year of lecturing, I have decided to document some memorable moments that I have encountered during the dreaded invigilating as well as exam answers. Please show these to your children and explain why spelling is so important!!!

I don't have photographic proof for them all, but these actually did happen:

QUESTION 

Give 2 examples of a stereotype and explain why each would be considered stereotypical.

Answer 1
White people can't dance and keep rhythm. [yes 1 mark, because some white people can dance]
This stereotype is usually promoted by black people because ALL black people are born with a NATURAL rhythm for music and white people aren't. [and there you go losing this mark and the previous one]

Answer 2 (same student)
Rugby supporters are aggressive.
It will be very dumb to walk in Pretoria and tell a group of Blue Bull supporters that the Bulls team are a bunch of gay queens [um, well yes that would make most sport supporter aggressive, but how do I mark this?]

*****

50% chance of getting this answer right, but hey, let's just leave it out because I'm not sure.

Seriously??  No we do not have negative marking.

*****

Within the first 30 minutes of a final exam, a student called me over to discuss how the allocated marks for each question did not total the 100 marks as indicated. Good thing she wasn't doing a maths exam because sure enough, when all added together, they did in fact equal 100. Nothing like using your allocated writing time wisely!

*****

At the varsity where I lecture, it is customary, to put up the times in half hour increments, on the board so that students are able to immediately check how long they have left to finish the exam. Students may not have their cell phones with them during the exam, so this assists students who use their phones as a time-piece. I kid you not when I tell you that a student called me over to the back of the class to tell me that I should wipe the next time off the board. When I checked the time, I still had 1 minute before the time was up! (sigh)

*****

A student wrote me a note on the exam paper. It simply read "this is hard." lol sorry.

*****

Then I get other notes:

Why do I need to know this??

*****

Another student left a blank space for a specific question. If that wasn't enough to let me know that he didn't know the answer, he then added into the blank space "sorry I didn't think we'd be tested on this."  Yes, I understood that you didn't know the answer, when you left a HUGE BLANK SPACE. Thanks for confirming that you spotted for the exam!!

*****

Sunlight Dish washing Liquid - "the major benefit of Sunlight is the many flavours"  I am not sure who is eating / drinking Sunlight Dish washing liquid that the taste would make an impact to increase purchase?

*****

Sucking up:

My all-time favourite "below the belt" and spelling errors:

How did we get to an example of tampons on a VAT question?
Oh yes, apparently they are an essential item alongside bread!

Took me a while to realise he meant Coke!

I must admit I have no experience of the Israeli vibrator market

The last 3 lines are an example of a single mother!

Remuneration is important to your staff stuff members

Sleasy Slizzy Italians!

Beef pettis had me for a while.... ~ Ahhh beef PATTIES!

 Polite messages:

Yes I can see that you don't know!

I'm not confused. If it states 4b then I mark it as 4b.

All students finished before the last 15 minutes

  

Don't be sorry, write neater!!

Some make me smile:

Love the slang in this example and of course GODLY!

As you can see, lecturing is very interesting. My students keep me entertained and we have some really good laughs! These young people truly are the future, as Whitney Houston sang "I believe that children are our future, teach them well and let them lead the way." Here's to another fun-filled year of teaching and learning.

50 Shades of Grey

When the book 50 Shades of Gray was all the rage, hubby kindly purchased me a copy so that I could see what all the fuss was about.  I even wrote a blog post about it. 50 Shades of Gray Book Review. In a nutshell, I thought it was ridiculous and it really didn't appeal to me but I understand that sex sells and that E.V.E.R.Y.B.O.D.Y knew about the book after the marketing machine had swung into action and everybody wanted to read it to see why it was so popular.

I've often mentioned that I am a frustrated author and I would love to write a novel but don't know where to start, so I think of topics and ideas all the time. When my mom was alive, I regularly used to pop in to visit her at the Retirement Village. It was perfectly located on the way to school and we literally drove right past it, shouting out "hi Mema" every day. When I fetched the kids they would beg to stop in to see Mema and we would often just arrive for a quick pop-in. Other days I would drop in to take her somewhere or we'd just chat over tea and frooty tooties (her homemade speciality). On the many times that I drove through that village, the title of the book 50 Shades of Gray always came to mind because I think it would be the perfect title of a story set in a retirement village. 50 Shades of Grey - get it? Their hair is grey! Ok now that you're with me......

After my mom died, I have felt a bit lost not going there, because it was an almost every day occurance. To make myself feel closer to her, I sometimes go back to the village to have some "oldie time" with my mom's friends. I know it sounds crazy but it really does make me feel closer to her somehow, even though these were "new" friends, as she had only lived there for 14 months before she passed.

Every time I go there, it hits home. There are so many lonely people, living seperately, together in a building in lovely surroundings. When I see the ladies my mom knew, their whole faces light up as they take my arm and invite me into their pristine apartments for a cup of tea. Each one takes so much pride in their little piece of privacy and I love looking at their photos and ornaments on display. Even the ladies with families, seldom see their children, the lucky ones get a visitor about once every two weeks (and that is considered a lot.) But when they wake up every morning, get dressed and sit in their little apartment, 14 days must feel like a lifetime. They sit and wait for an organised activity so that they have an excuse to get out and mingle. My life is so busy and yet their lives are so empty. It fascinates me how life works. When you are younger, you are manic, working, raising kids, cooking, cleaning, doing all the chores that are required. Extra murals, fetching and carrying kids and then....... nothing. I would rush in and rush out and my mom would always be grateful for a visit but I knew that she was lonely. She was considered lucky because some of these residents have no visitors, ever.

The elderly are often forgotten and as I grow older, I realise that I too will be their age one day (hopefully) and I'm still going to be me (with my sense of humour), just in an old body. If one of my elderly friends fall over, I'm still going to laugh when I'm 75, I know I am, that's just me! Often when we see the elderly, we only recognise a wrinkled person who has nothing in common with us, but if we stop to to ask and to listen, we realise there is a whole life that was led by that person. They were also young once. I like to imagine them when they were younger, what they did, how they acted. Where they kind or mean?  Were they outgoing or reserved? What mistakes did they make? What are they most proud of? Who were they "in their day?" I love hearing their stories and they love dusting them off and remembering them, their faces priceless as they relay the well-worn stories that they have re-told over the years, but they're new to me. I always listen to old people's stories, they are so interesting as I get a glimpse into who they were. Some people worked, some didn't, some married, some didn't, some devoted their lives to raising their children and some have lost their children and husbands. Some are friendly and some are downright grumpy. In each case, there is an entire lifetime of memories bottled up in their grey, perfectly- groomed heads and they truly are the product of their experiences. I think I like the fact that they all think I'm young haha! I feel so young when I'm there and they always say that my visits and my kids kept my mom going, she loved us. So maybe it's also a little boost for me to hear that. I think my 50 Shades of Grey a the Retirement Village could also be a best seller!

One of the great facilities at this retirement village, is that they have a library with a take-read-and-return policy. Simple and effective. There is no record of who takes out what book, it works on an honesty system, where you read the book and then bring it back for others to enjoy. Due to the size of the village, some people kindly (or lazily) leave books on the entrance table for others in their block to enjoy without having to walk to the library in the main building and the books are returned to the library by staff if they have been out for too long. The system works really well and in the past I would also leave old magazines on the entrance table and my mom would leave her newspaper for those who didn't get a daily delivery, like she did. Everyone benefits.

My mom used the library extensively as she was an avid reader and it helped pass the time. When she went into hospital I brought her book to her, but she was too weak to read it. (Thank goodness she didn't because I read it and it was really bad and it would have irritated my mom.) The book taunted me, because it sat on my desk for weeks and then months and I kept meaning to return it, but I kept forgetting. My mom would not be happy with me and the guilt was getting the better of me. I was going through my cupboard and found my almost pristine copy of 50 Shades of Gray hidden in the back. Tomato has started reading quite well so the book was not on my bookshelf with all the other books, as I didn't want her to have access to it. Hopefully she will read it when she is older and able to understand that domination and abuse do not equate to love and the book will seem ridiculous to her, as it was to me, but right now she's far too young and impressionable, so I needed to get rid of it. An idea was brewing.......

Yesterday I decided to pop in to see my mom's friend and I remembered to take along the book that my mom had borrowed. As I walked from my car I saw another lady who greeted me and invited me into her home. We chatted and when I left her, I put the borrowed book on the entrance table of the building, where I had often put my magazines in the past. But this time, I placed my copy of 50 Shades of Gray on top of it and went to find the lady who I had planned to visit. I walked up the flight of stairs, knocked twice on her door, she wasn't home. I walked back down the stairs to my car. I couldn't have been gone more than a minute. I chuckled to myself as I noticed, walking past the entrance table, that the novel my mom had borrowed was still there, but the 50 Shades book had already been borrowed! Throughout our youth body image is extremely important and few people honestly look beyond the shell (body) and see the soul inside. It takes getting old to realise that your body is just a vessel to move your soul around. I was reminded again, just because their bodies have changed, doesn't mean their minds have!