Everyday Insanity

For axxium

2008-04-13T23:50:00.001+02:00

I know it's quite simple, but it's all done by me, and I can do much more if I need to... I'm just lazy :)

Something borrowed, something fun, something true for me...

2008-01-21T13:11:00.000+02:00

Are you a literature junkie? Take this test and find out! How many of these apply to you?

1. I have read fiction when I was depressed, or to cheer myself up.
2. I have gone on reading binges of an entire book or more in a day.
3. I read rapidly, often "gulping" chapters.
4. I have sometimes read early in the morning or before work.
5. I have hidden books in different places to sneak a chapter without being seen.
6. Sometimes I avoid friends or family obligations in order to read novels.
7. Sometimes I rewrite film or television dialogue as the characters speak.
8. I am unable to enjoy myself with others unless there is a book nearby.
9. At a party, I will often slip off unnoticed to read.
10. Reading has made me seek haunts and companions which I would otherwise avoid.
11. I have neglected personal hygiene or household chores until I have finished a novel.
12. I have spent money meant for necessities on books instead.
13. I have attempted to check out more library books than permitted.
14. Most of my friends are heavy fiction readers.
15. I have sometimes passed out from a night of heavy reading.
16. I have suffered "blackouts" or memory loss from a bout of reading.
17. I have wept, become angry or irrational because of something I read.
18. I have sometimes wished I did not read so much.
19. Sometimes I think my reading is out of control.

If you answered "yes" to four or more of these questions, you may be a literature abuser.

Affirmative responses to seven or more indicates a serious problem.

Once a relatively rare disorder, literature abuse, or LA, has risen to new levels due to the accessibility of higher education and increased college enrollment since the end of the Second World War. The number of literature abusers is currently at record levels.

Social costs of literature abuse: Abusers become withdrawn, uninterested in society or normal relationships. They fantasize, creating alternative worlds to occupy, to the neglect of friends and family. In severe cases they develop bad posture from reading in awkward positions or carrying heavy book bags. In the worst instances, they become cranky reference librarians in small towns.

Excessive reading during pregnancy is perhaps the number one cause of moral deformity among the children of English professors, teachers of English and creative writing. Known as Fetal Fiction Syndrome, this disease also leaves its victims prone to a lifetime of nearsightedness, daydreaming and emotional instability.

Heredity: Recent Harvard studies have established that heredity plays a considerable role in determining whether a person will become an abuser of literature. Most abusers have at least one parent who abused literature, often beginning at an early age and progressing into adulthood. Many spouses of an abuser become abusers themselves.

Other predisposing factors:
Fathers or mothers who are English teachers, professors, or heavy fiction readers; parents who do not encourage children to play games, participate in healthy sports, or watch television in the evening.

Prevention: Pre-marital screening and counseling, referral to adoption agencies in order to break the chain of abuse. English teachers in particular should seek partners active in other fields. Children should be encouraged to seek physical activity and to avoid isolation and morbid introspection.

Decline and fall: The English major Within the sordid world of literature abuse, the lowest circle belongs to those sufferers who have thrown their lives and hopes away to study literature in our colleges. Parents should look for signs that their children are taking the wrong path -- don't expect your teenager to approach you and say, "I can't stop reading Spenser." By the time you visit her dorm room and find the secret stash of the Paris Review, it may already be too late.

What to do if you suspect your child is becoming an English major:
Talk to your child in a loving way. Show your concern. Let her know you won't abandon her -- but that you aren't spending a hundred grand to put her through Stanford so she can clerk at Waldenbooks, either. But remember that she may not be able to make a decision without help; perhaps she has just finished Madame Bovary and is dying of arsenic poisoning.

Face the issue: Tell her what you know, and how: "I found this book in your purse. How long has this been going on?" Ask the hard question -- "Who is this Count Vronsky?"
Show her another way. Move the television set into her room. Introduce her to frat boys.
Do what you have to do. Tear up her library card. Make her stop signing her letters as "Emma." Force her to take a math class, or minor in Spanish. Transfer her to a Florida college.

You may be dealing with a life-threatening problem if one or more of the following applies:

*She can tell you how and when Thomas Chatterton died.
*She names one or more of her cats after a Romantic poet.
*Next to her bed is a picture of Lord Byron, Virginia Woolf, William Faulkner
or any scene from the Lake District.

Most important, remember, you are not alone. To seek help for yourself or someone you love, contact the nearest chapter of the American Literature Abuse Society, or look under ALAS in your telephone directory.

by Michael McGrortyLibrary Dust

I guess it's just too late for me now! I answered "yes" to almost all of the above, plus I have 3 cats named for poets (ancient Latin, not Romantic, but still) and I am (was?) an English major!

What about you?

When the night has come...

2008-01-18T09:23:00.000+02:00

Ah yes. We are languishing in the dark here. A quick joke for those of you who’ll get it:

John is walking around, minding his own business and thinking his own thinks when the Devil spots him. “Ah,” thinks the Devil. “Another soul for me to capture and torture.” Devil walks up to John and says “Good day, Mortal.” John looks at him and says: “Who are you?” The Devil replies: “I am the Prince of Darkness.”

“Oh!” says John. “I know who you are. You work for Eskom!”

Another one:

Breaking News: This morning word went out that the National Anthem of South Africa will no longer be "N'kosi sikelel' i'Africa". It is being updated to "Sounds of Silence" by Simon and Garfunkle (with the famous first line: "Hello Darkness my old friend..."

For those not In the Know: Eskom is South Africa’s power supplier. This company is completely (or almost completely) state (or government, it’s hard to know what’s the right term anymore) funded, plus they charge us, as consumers, an arm and a leg (seriously, we are one of the coutries that pay the most for electricity in the world) AND THEN it turns out that they do not have enough power for all of us who are paying for our electricity and in fact, will only have enough power in PERHAPS 8 to 10 years. This is because they didn't foresee that providing electricity to all of those who didn't have any (which is a laudable goal, don't get me wrong) would mean that capacity increases, and now they have too little power to go around, and have to make plans to build new power stations. Which will take AT LEAST 8 to 10 years until we have that extra power.

What about the meantime, I hear you ask.

Well, Eskom says. For now it’s rolling blackouts and Load Shedding (which is just a nicer way of saying: "We're cutting your power when we're needing power, so solly cholly"!)

The ironic part of this is when you try to access the schedule for the load shedding, the "service is unavailable". Talk about an understatement.

UPDATE: Eskom fixed the webpage, but I still have the pictorial proof, tee hee hee. Oh, and for this weekend, apparently the schedule is 90 minutes on, 150 minutes off, 90 on 150 off throughout the days on Saturday and maybe Sunday. Now I ask you with tears in my eyes: why do we even have electricity? And why are we paying between 18 and 14% more for this *lack* of electricity this year?

Taking a break... from sleeping

2008-01-17T08:01:00.000+02:00

Another fun thing about having kids is that sleep goes on a vacation... and sometimes it feels like it'll never return.

Just to sketch the scenario: we have two girls, one aged 4 months and one aged 2 and a half years. Sleep in our house (at least as done by me, as my husband would sleep through an explosion once he falls asleep) is pretty much non-existent in units of more than 1 hour at a time. And the horrible thing is, it's the older one that's having the trouble. I get up 3 times for her for every one time I get up for the baby.

The sad thing is, there was a time not so long ago when I thought she’d start sleeping through... and then she got chickenpox about 5 months ago, and ever since then her sleeping and mine have been demolished.

She wakes, crying, on average 6 to 12 times a night (from 7pm to 6 am). I’m going nucking futs here, and so is she! Any suggestions? Because pretty soon I’m going to go crazy!

Wanted: calm and sanity - Reward Offered

2008-01-16T10:34:00.000+02:00

I don’t know about you, but here mornings are the very definition of craziness. Oh, it starts innocently enough: huge brown eyes popping open and announcing to the world in general and me in particular:

“Time for get up, Mammia”. I reluctanty pry open my protesting eyes while she’s already holding a full-length conversation with the cat, including replies from said feline. I try to grumble (softly, so as to not wake the baby) “Logia, sleep some more, let’s sleep a little bit more,” but I know it’s useless. With an embattled sigh I pick up my cellphone-slash-alarm clock and peek at the time.

At this point, I fly out of bed, muttering expletives all the while, trying with very little success to prevent Logia from hearing it because of course I had meant to “snooze” the darn thing and instead had turned it off, so it is now 30 minutes later than it’s supposed to be.

“Farg!” Logan chimes happily. “Crêpe!”

Get the toddler, try to get her dressed. Consider buying some of those restraints they have in mental hospitals, the kind where you strap the patient to the bed. For those of you who’ve never had one: dressing a toddler is like putting clothes on a hyperactive and giggling squid who thinks escaping and running naked through the house is the absolute height of hilarity, and therefore puts all energy and resources to the achievement of that goal.

Finally, Logan is dressed. By this time I am dripping with the sweat of exertion, so into the shower we go, with helpful comments like “Mama naked” and “look your breast” to cheer me on. Should I try to keep her out of the bathroom, nuclear meltdown mode ensues, so I try to shower as quickly as is humanly possible.

The baby is still sleeping like, well, like a baby. With Logan in tow, I go into the spare bedroom, where I have set up my hair and make-up station. I did this so that the baby won’t wake when I dry my hair and apply my make-up, since Logan’s default volume seems to be “ear-piercing”. Trying to prevent the baby from waking is an excersize in futility, once Logan is up, so I haven’t even started drying my hair when the baby wakes and needs attention. So, I leave my hair the way it is and go to dress and diaper Katya.

Eventually I dress myself, and it’s usually only when we finally reach the car (having already locked the house, with Logan staring at everything and still trying to escape at each and every opportunity) that I realize that I never did my hair or make-up. Ah well. Into the car we go, and off to start a new day, and I am already exhaused. Again.

Ah well, it could have been worse. I could have had kittens in the house, causing the toddler to chase and terrorise them everywhere without end, meaning I have to look after them as well as her... oh wait. I do have that.

Am I the only one whose universe is run by a 2 and a half year old?

And I thought school was bad...

2007-05-11T13:54:00.000+02:00

Apparently teachers in Britain feel that students waste too much time on totalitarian trivialities like academics and not nearly enough time on important life skills like the different applications of walking, according to the following article from This is True.

"DON'T TRY THIS WHILE CHEWING GUM: Martin Johnson, the acting deputy general secretary of the Association of Teachers and Lecturers, a teachers' union in Britain, says the national school curriculum is "totalitarian" because it focuses on academics. What should schools teach, then? "Other" types of knowledge, he said. Like what? Like learning how to walk properly. "There's a lot to learn about how to walk. If you were going out for a Sunday afternoon stroll you might walk one way," he says. "If you're trying to catch a train you might walk in another way and if you are doing a cliff walk you might walk in another way." (London Guardian) ...And if you're thinking of sending your kids to ATL-led schools, run! "

Can’t say that I blame them, really. I mean, who wants to spend time educating the very people who will one day run the world in something as boring as mathematics, politics and English spelling and grammar when the fascinating and hitherto unexplored world of everyday activities await!

Kicking Butt

2007-05-10T11:33:00.000+02:00

I want to know who created this stupid idea that health is your most precious commodity, because that really just isn't true. At this stage, I would have really loved, adored, begged for being ill.

You see, I'm trying to quit smoking, being pregnant and all that. And if you've never smoked or had to quit smoking, you'll have no idea how hard it is to kick butt while you're disgustingly healthy and hale.

Right now, I've managed to cut it down to about 2-5 a day and I'm still feeling an amount of guilt that you simply can't imagine, but the truth is I'm having a real hard time with the quitting. It's ironic, since I had no problem quitting with my previous pregnancy… though come to think of it, by the time I found out I was pregnant I'd already quit for about two or three months.

The story goes like this. I became horribly, violently, terribly ill during the winter (remember, winter here is from march/april to august/September). So there I was, hacking my lungs out (or what was left of it after ten years of light to moderate smoking, which at the time felt like it couldn't be larger than two pin heads) with my breast so congested and tight that I couldn't breathe air properly, nevermind smoke. So I just simply wasn't physically able to smoke until I got better, which took about a week to ten days, at which time I decided that a) I never wanted to feel like that again, and b) I had already quit, actually, for ten days and should be over the worst of the cravings and withdrawal, only I missed it because I was too busy being ill and consumed in self pity to notice. Simple as that, non?

Non.

You can imagine how superior I was feeling, having quit the coffin nails with no trouble at all, no cravings, no irritation, nada. I was insufferable. Smirking at everyone who complained about quitting smoking in a "I'm-better-than-you" kind of way, I'm sure many people wanted to just wring my neck. People who are coming off the nicotine are very, very easily irritated, as I can well attest now. The only thing I can think is that they didn't want to harm a pregnant woman, so they tried to avoid me, which of course made me feel even more superior, because I thought that they were avoiding me because they were feeling inferior about their inability to quit.

Someone should have just killed me there and then. God knows, if I should run into the me of that time, I would at the very least slap myself silly. Come to think of it, that would be an excellent idea. I could beat myself up and in that way never start smoking again, leading to a present of freedom.

So, anyone got a time machine? If you don't, I'd be happy to take your germs instead.

Naming Monsters

2007-05-09T15:42:00.000+02:00

Well. Talk about a hiatus! If my maths didn't suck so completely, I would have calculated just how long I've been gone, but I would spare you that pain and myself that humiliation (not to mention menal fatigue that might lead to a revolt of the braincells) and just say "too long".

Things have been going really well for me, in case you were interested. For a while there, things got very, very hairy, but for now everything is good, so let's get straight to our feature for the day.

Since I am pregnant again, the great Naming Game has started up. Again. As if the first time wasn't bad enough, we then went ahead and actually used the only girl name we could agree on. Innocent, naïve fools that we were! Now we're stuck in the same place again, this time witout that one magical name we could both at least learn to tolerate.

This got me thinking all over again: what's in a name? Well, since I'm one of those people cursed priviledged enough to grow up with "unique" (read: you reek) name, I feel very strongly about the subject. Not that I was teased all that much about my name, come to think of it. In fact, to be totally honest, no one ever teased me about my name. This is despite the fact that I was named after a movie character (can you guess which one). I guess there were just so many other things to single out that my name seemed tame in comparison.

Fact remains, I feel very strongly about people trying to give their children beautiful and unique names and ending up with some or other monstrosity that no one in their right mind (read: not on acid) can even pronounce without the help of copious amounts of (at least) alcohol, never mind spell! I use to scorn such parents, deride them whenever I had the chance, and even wonder wether they feel such a strong drive to make their kids unique because they themselves were so singularly ununique. I have since found out that not only is that the absolute truth, but that I am one of them.

When we were looking for names for her, I realized that I, too, wanted something you-neek, a name that no one else in her class (preferably her town) has. Not that I gave my kid a bohemian, made up name. No, nothing like that. In the end, the name we gave her actually exists, it's a legitimate name, and I've actually grown quite fond of it as time passed. This is only because my husband put his foot down and refused to consider any made up names, for which I'm sure she will be eternally grateful to him as soon as she's old enough to realize that her name isn't actually "Baby". But even with that, it took all of our combined intellects and numerous close-call rumbles to actually get to this name, after almost seven months of debate and struggling.

Now I'm starting to wonder wether the entire concept of names could be overrated. I mean, wouldn't it be less confusing to just name all the kids the same? Imagine the conversational possibilities inherent in this. "Yes, and these are my two daughters, Janet, and my four sons Julian."

At least then Gwyneth Paltrow wouldn't have to try so hard, and neither would I!

Riding out the storm

2005-11-08T11:28:00.000+02:00

I don't want to speak too soon, but it seems that the worst of the storm is over. My husband still has to work 20 hours a day to sort out the company, which, thanks to my FIL's drinking habits, almost collapsed, but it's getting better and the end is in sight.

My MIL is still living with us, though that should change as soon as she gets herself a boarder. My dh's father is now in rehab, after a huge fight and lots of threats of crashing the company so that we don't have anything to eat. We've decided to cut him off from the family... he's been drinking like that for 28 years, my MIL says, he's had all the chances in the world.

Things are still tense, but for the first time in weeks my husband was home last night and we could watch a little TV. The baby's doing fine, though with all the stress I've had to stop breastfeeding. My milk just dried up from the stress. I'm very, very sad about that.

So anyway, life goes on.

Show me the funny

2005-10-18T21:19:00.000+02:00

Much as I'd like to post something funny, tonight I just can't seem to find the funny anywhere. It must be hiding somewhere behind the alcohol bottles, obscured from view by the damage the content of said bottles can cause.

Now, despite what you may have read or heard on the news and in your local papers, I don't drink. At all. But I don't have a problem with people who do. Free world, I say. Enjoy.

However, when someone drinks most of the day everyday, I become... edgy. Especially if it's someone close to our family. And when said person tends to become violent and a complete idiot when sufficient amounts of alcohol is imbibed, I have a SERIOUS problem. Call me old-fashioned, but there it is.

Now, today, the reason for this problem I have with the seriously inebriated has surfaced yet again: quite plainly, they make life hell for the rest of us. Were said person to seek help, that would have been a different story all together... I of all people know that you can't just say "Quit drinking" to some people, just like you can't just say "Feel better" to me or anyone else suffering from depression. However, this person has had numerous opportunities to avail themselves to help, but chose not to. Help was even arranged for them, but this person just didn't want to do it.

Now we're sitting with the mess, and it's hurting our family and the people dear to me and I hate hate HATE it.

Ten Thoughts about Life... Sent by a friend.

2005-10-14T10:39:00.000+02:00

Number 10 - Life is sexually transmitted.

Number 9 - Health is merely the slowest possible rate at which one can die.

Number 8 - Men have two emotions: Hungry and Horny. If you see him without an erection, make him a sandwich!

Number 7 - Give a person a fish and you feed them for a day; teach a person to use the Internet and they won't bother you for weeks.

Number 6 - Some people are like a Slinky..... Not really good for anything, but you still can't help but smile when you see one tumble down the stairs.

Number 5 - Health nuts are going to feel stupid someday, lying in hospitals dying of nothing.

Number 4 - All of us could take a lesson from the weather. It pays no attention to criticism.

Number 3 - Why does a slight tax increase cost you two hundred dollars (or rands, in South Africa) and a substantial tax cut saves you 3?

Number 2 - In the 60's, people took acid to make the world weird. Now the world is weird and people take Prozac to make it normal.

AND THE NUMBER 1 THOUGHT FOR 2005:

We know exactly where one cow with mad-cow-disease is located among the millions and millions of cows in the United Kingdom, South Africa and America but we haven't got a clue as to where thousands of illegal immigrants and terrorists are located. Maybe we should put the respective Departments of Agriculture in charge of immigration?

Survival Series: The Children's Birthday Party

2005-10-12T20:55:00.000+02:00

In honour of not having anything to blog about (what can I say, my life is boring... you can only say so much about changing diapers), I've decided to embark upon a new and exiting series: The Survival Series. Detailing sanity-busting scenarios, and expert hints and tips on how to survive mentally and physically intact, this series is a must for everyone!

Today's Survival Scenario: The Children's Birthday Party.

So, Junior is having a birthday? Good luck. This is a situation that has sent many a parent over the brink and into that never-ending La-La land.

"But what is so horrible about a birthday party?" I hear you ask.

Imagine the scene: a clutch of [insert appropriate age] children running around, screaming and hyper from the sugar. There will always be at least one crying hysterically at any given time, and one other up to some ungodly mischief the moment you're not looking. Cake and sweets and various other party snacks gets trampled into everything, and I do mean EVERYTHING (including, amongst others: ears, carpets, hair, cats). All this is before the presents are opened and the kids begin fighting over the presents, and this is a best-case scenario. Worst-case scenarios include serious injuries, feuding parents and maybe even the police.

So what can you do to keep from going as crazy as Steve Irwin upon spotting a reptile? Here is my suggestions.

1.) ALWAYS ensure that no party is ever held at your place of residence.

Some parents prefer to use restaurants with a kiddy-friendly athmosphere, themeparks, or even petting zoos. All of these offer too much opportunity for mischief and mayhem, so we suggest the following venues for your consideration:

A nightclub. Think about it: No kids allowed!
Your in-laws' place: They'll be happy to help, and they get stuck with all the kids and the cake-infested carpets!
The houses of various friends, families and enemies: See above.

2.) No matter the temptation, NEVER give the children any toys that can be used as a weapon.

Sadly, this includes most toys for kids over 2, so we suggest you play some time-honoured games like:

Clean the kitchen: The aim of this game is to clean a kitchen completely. The first team to do this wins.
Fetch the wine: In this game, each child is assigned to one adult to ensure the adult's glass never runs empty.
Round the garden Treasure Hunt: Hunt for exiting things like the kitten that got lost months ago, and the socks that always seem to run away.

3.) If the children are loud, BE LOUDER.

4.) If there's no blood, it's not that bad.

5.) And finally, remember, no children's party is bearble without copious amounts of alcohol... for the parents, of course.

The Orcale has Spoken... but Tom Cruise was too busy to listen.

2005-10-06T13:04:00.000+02:00

So, it turns out that Ms Holmes (soon to be Mrs Cruise) is pregnant after all. Will it be unforgivably mean of me to say that I hope she gets PND, just to see how her omnipotent husband-to-be will handle it? Probably, since she wasn't the one saying that people suffering from PND shouldn't use meds. Still, maybe we'll be lucky and the ever controversial Mr. Cruise will get it himself? It has been reported that loads of dads suffer from it, though it's rarely as severe in men as in women.

*sigh* Life just isn't fair, is it?

And in case you've been wondering, my life this past week was just too busy to post. Busy with what, you ask? Why, catching up on some sleep, of course! Princess Logan has finally started to sleep twice during the day, saving her mother from ~~total insanity and weepy, chocolate induced confessions of inadequacy~~ the after-effects of too little sleep.

I am just not one of those people who can function without a solid chunk of sleep to back me up. Call me a weak sissy-girl, but I need my back guarded by enough sleep!

Anycase, I visited the Great and Almighty Underwear Oracle today, and it spake onto me:

What Your Underwear Says About You

You tend to buy new underwear instead of doing laundry.

You're comfortable in your own skin - and don't care to impress anyone.

The Underwear Oracle

Well, there you have it folks. Mr Cruise, eat your heart out.

Have Baby, Will Charge

2005-09-29T22:00:00.000+02:00

Today we discovered one of the hidden perks of havning a baby: Instant popularity!

This morning, feeling brave, my husband and me decided to go to the site of the national arts festival currently held in our hometown. This week-long festival includes lots and lots (and lots) of stalls with artsy stuff to see and buy, and lots of stages erected on which to hold shows with lots of chairs on which to sit and watch said shows.

So there we were, innocently thinking we'd be walking along the stalls with the baby in the stroller, enjoying the sights. Hah! We were soon shown the error of our naiveté, for walking through the massed crowds, it seemed that we were the sights. We couldn't walk two steps without being confronted by one (or more) crooning person (mostly female, though there was this weird moment with a teenage boy...) who wanted to drool all over our baby.

These people look completely normal, and I'm sure that were you to ask the people who know them, they'd be said to act perfectly normal as well. However, it seems that for some people, the sight of a baby is evidently a cue to become weird and, quite frankly, sometimes a little scary. Our baby was an instant celebrity, drawing crowds larger than some of the established artists preforming on the stages!

So, we decided that next year, we'll set up a tent and charge people to come in and look at the baby (any touching will cost extra). We'll do this in order to cash in on one of the other hidden perks of having children: Making money.

A Wasted Weekend...

2005-09-27T10:57:00.000+02:00

Ah, Sunday. Don't you just love Sundays? It is the day [insert preferred deity here] made to just kick back, relax, take stock of the past week's goings-on and rest before the new week dawns. A day of peace, calm and bumming out in front of the TV in a mindless stupor. That is, everywhere but here, it seems.

Yes, the Princess has been discovering that the world is, in fact, rather interesting. This happened to our immense chargin and against all our wishes, as we were hoping to keep her locked up inside the house forever, banning all contact with the outside world, squashing all interest in going out and especially going out with boys. Alas, now our plan has failed and a new one must be formed.

So, since Princess discovered that the world is so amusing she has also evidently been drawing the conclusion that all the most interesting and amusing things about the world are hidden away until the moment she closes her eyes to sleep. Hence, she refuses to sleep during the day in fear of missing out on all these things her parents (us) wanted her to miss. Drats, foiled again!

Ah well. I guess we'll just have to spend the next few days dreaming up a new strategy and in the meantime I think I'll just ~~tear out my hair in sleepless frustration~~ live with it.

Blogs I am soooo over

2005-09-25T12:37:00.000+02:00

This is my humble take on blogs that I'm soooo over.

5. Blogs written from a pet/child's point of view. I mean, really. It was cute in the beginning, but now every second blog is like this it's getting old real fast.
4. Blogs that are actually advertisements disguised as blogs. Waste my time, why don't you? That seriously ticks me off.
3. Blogs reporting the same old news, the same as seven hundred thousand others. Need I say more?
2. Bad poetry blogs. Like, totally over it when I was 16 man, while th'moon speeks 2 me

and finally, my #1 pet peeve blog:

Blogs that go on and on about nothing but American politics, as if the entire world revolves around America and its politics.

Now I don't have a problem with a well thought out political opinion, or some ranting about the crap the government does, but these blogs that every day give the same thought voiced differently about the same old same old just makes me tired. Politics, politics, all the time politics makes blogs dull, especially if it's politics that have nothing to do with me or my life here in South Africa, where we have problems that make American problems seem like picnics. Honestly.

But then, that's just me.

My Dirty Little Secret.

2005-09-24T21:38:00.000+02:00

Okay, I'll admit it: I'm a child at heart. I guess that's why I get along with kids so well, but that's besides the point. I'm totally *addicted* to Neopets. There you have it. My dirty little secret.

For those of you who've been living in a virtual vacuum these past few years, here's the 411. Neopets is a virtual pet site that allows you to adopt up to 4 virtual pets. Then you have to play games and/or do things around the site to earn virtual money (Neopoints) which you use to buy food and toys to keep your pets happy. However, for most people, Neopets is about collecting stuff, making galleries in which to show off these stuff and so on. I'm totally hooked! For me at least, the main aim of Neopets is to
a.) Collect as many Neopoints as I can and
b.) Collect as many avatars as I can.

I spend hours every day playing Neopets, and right now, trying to figure out the latest plots. I'm telling you, if you're bored, head on out to Neopia and sign yourself a Neopets account today. You'll either love it or you'll hate it, but if their popularity is anything to go by, loving it seems to be the main response.

Wake me up when September ends...

2005-09-21T12:38:00.000+02:00

It's been such a long time since I've actually had the time to blog! I tell ya, they don't tell you in the manual how much time a newborn takes up!

Anycase, here I am, crazier than ever thanks to having to wake every 2 hours whenever I try to sleep.

So I was up at 2-3am Monday morning and saw most of the Emmy Red Carpet arrivals on E!, since we are so far ahead time-wise, and my goodness, didn't Jennifer Garner look smashing? I think she's just the most beautiful of all the Hollywood Jens out there. And then there's Heidi Klum, wearing that incredible Dior gown! Wow! If I was a star and could have a 24 hour nanny who'd raise my kids, I'd be out to the Emmy's 6 days after giving birth as well! (Though I imagine sitting all night wouldn't have been a ball...)

Speaking of babies, I see the Speaderline had arrived. It's a boy, apparently named Preston. WHAT? That's NOT a celebrity baby name! You should have named him something like Brittin (that's a combination of Brittney and Kevin, don't you know?, and it's a tryndee spelling)! Ah well, I still say in 15 years, when the Children of the Stars take over the world, we'll regret this era.

Ooh, the baby is up, I gots to go.

It's the Bomb

2005-08-14T15:22:00.000+02:00

Need I say more? All credit goes to Stidy, over at News24. Some of the best cartoons I've ever seen, I've seen over there.

Presenting to the world...

2005-08-12T18:16:00.000+02:00

Logan Mika van der Merwe. Born 28 July 2005, weighing 2,670 Kgs (that's 5.9 lbs).

She surprised us by arriving 3 weeks early, and looking at her now, two weeks on, I find it so difficult to believe that she should still have been in the womb, biding her time and floating in her own little Nirvana of water and muffled sounds, instead of out here in the harsh, cold world.

She's such a little character! She gets plenty angry when she can't get her food (we've been having a bit of trouble with the feeding, but it seems to be better now), and she doesn't want to go to sleep, she wants to see what's going on all the time.

Her eyes are so active all the time, like she can't drink in everything fast enough, and I want to tell her: Slow down, little one, you have the entire rest of your life for that! Then I remember, none of us know how long we have, so I say nothing. I just hold her closer and thank all the gods that she arrived safe and has a chance to experience life and I have a chance to experience her, a chance so many other mothers and babies don't have.

An Early Arrival

2005-07-30T17:50:00.000+02:00

I know I haven't been around in a while, but visiting my grandparents while I still had the chance before baby came, since we didn't want to travel too close to my due date.

Damn you, Irony!

Well.

As you guys know, I was 37 weeks pregnant on Wednesday. So Wednesday evening I got in bed late, as usual, and awoke two hours later (about 12:30 Thursday morning)... and my water had broken!

I'll tell y'all the whole story (with pics, I promise) later or tomorrow, but suffice to say that Logan Mika van der Merwe entered the world at 19:10 Thursday, 28 July at 37 weeks 1 day of age. She is soooooo tiny! She only weighed 2,67 kgs. That's 5,9 lbs, for those of you not on the metric system.

Although she's 3 weeks premature, she's absolutely fine, no problems whatsoever, and we came home from the hospital today. She's such a little beauty, though we do have some trouble feeding sometimes.

But I must say, I'm still STUNNED. We weren't expecting her for at least another 3 weeks, and even then I thought she'd be late as she's a first baby.

Isn't it the best surprise ever? I just thought I'd let you all know.

Religion and the Unsharkly Shark

2005-07-26T16:43:00.000+02:00

For those of you wondering where I have been, the answer is simple: I've been visiting my grandparents for the last time before the baby arrives. While there, something curious happened, which I must confess, left me puzzled and very angry.

I had a conversation with my aunt about the movie "Shark Tale". I quite liked the movie, but she said that she was disgusted with it, because of the shark wanting to dress like a dolphin and not being "sharkly" enough, and the parallels it has to those of homosexual persuasion. She detested that the movie advocated that everyone get along, even sharks who aren't "sharkly", because it teaches kids that it's okay to be friends with someone who's "not normal", or even to *be* "not normal". This, she said, was not something she wanted to teach her kids.

I then pointed out (politely enough, actually, though it makes me mad when people are so short sighted) that we can't afford to teach our kids anything else in the world we live in, even if we don't agree (which I do), since they are the ones who'll have to function in a society where it's criminal to discriminate. She then said: "But it's against what the Bible says" (which, by the way, is an entirely different debate).

This got me to thinking, and after chewing on it for a long time, I concluded that most of the world's evils can be blamed on the concept of organized religion, no matter what religion we're talking about. It's the reason behind most wars, most terrorism, and most stupidity. Honestly. That whole concept of "My religion requires it from me" has been modified to "My church/fellow worshippers would expect it from me".

That's what horrifies most "religious" people about something like a pregnant unmarried: not so much the fact of the pregnancy and its implications, or even the failure to conform to the religion, but "What will the X's think", "What will the church say", "How can I ever look the neighbours in the face again".

And that just makes me sad. People who spend most of their time and energy judging others and wondering who'll go to Heaven or Nirvana or wherever, and losing sight of the actual religion and the actual deity they worship in the process.

I guess that's why I'm so agnostic. No religion, no rules, just pure spirituality. Besides, I'm such a rebel, I don't think rules and me were made to co-exist in any case.

The safety of hospitals...

2005-07-09T19:17:00.000+02:00

Now, everyone who knows me, know that I have a very vested interest in what goes on in hospitals, especially since I have to go to one to have my baby soon (I wanted a home birth, but there are no midwives experienced in HB in a 50 mile radius from where I live).

About three or four weeks or so ago, the first reports of babies (started at 7, and soon it was up to 19, final death toll was 22 newborn babies) dying in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) of a Durban Hospital, the Mahatma Gandhi Hospital, due to a strange illness. Read more about the initial report here.

Since Durban is one of the largest cities in the country, this was distressing in itself, but over the weekend, the results of an investigation launched were made public. In the investigation it was found that the outbreak was due to unsanitary and unhygenic practises in the hospital, dirty equipment and the like. 22 babies are dead because the hospital was unsanitory, giving the babies contaminated and infected bottles, IVs etc.

22 Newborn babies. Dead. I simply can't get over it.

Then you get those people who look at you and say: "But you are placing your baby's life in danger if you have a home birth", while the truth, according to science and scientific studies, is that a home birth (adhering to certain rules of safety, of course) is at least as safe or safer than a hospital birth. And this is in industrialized nations where hospitals are more hygenic, sanitary and staffed than they are here.

Then some people wonder why I get all angry! I wonder what they'd do if I walked up to the "hospital birth club", who insist that anyone who wants to give birth at home doesn't deserve to have a baby, and said: "It is scientifically proven that home birth is as safe or safer than hospital, and that's in countries like America, where the hospitals are clean for the most part. Who's putting their babies' lives more at risk: me who would choose to birth safely at home, following the "safety rules", or you, who go to a place that's proven to be more dangerous?"

Of course I would never do that, since I believe all women's choices are their own and has nothing to do with me, but I wish that they'd lay off me about my choices! I wish that I could have found a midwife who was experienced at home births and had my baby at home. And I hope, hope, hope, that nothing like what happened in Durban happens in the hospital where I'll have my baby. What else is there to do?

Saturday Night Potjie

2005-07-02T18:42:00.000+02:00

Since it's Saturday night, and neither my husband nor me felt like cooking per se (we rarely do, come to think of it), he decided to invite some friends over to make a potjie (pronounced POY-kee). This is basically a stew made in a three-legged cast iron pot cooked over an open fire. See picture to get the idea.

Now, first of all, you must understand that this is not only a valued traditional dish, it's something of a ritual in itself. First, all the ingredients should be chopped as rougly and unevenly as possible. Then the fire is lit (in this case, at 6pm) and the Great Wait starts. The fire can't be too hot when you put the pot on, or the food will burn, see. So, after it is ascertained that the fire is ready (usually a few beers in, especially with it being Saturday, Rugby Day, but none of us drink or watch rugby), the pot is placed over the fire and the veggies and meat and stuff is added layer by layer in a secret way that is passed down from potjie-maker to potjie maker.

The reason potjiekos is so popular in South Africa is not entirely because of its unique and delicious taste, but also because of the good times and social behaviour associated with it. What makes potjiekos so unique, is that no two potjie's ever taste the same, the taste is decided upon by the chef and what ingredients he wants to put into it.

The ingredients are not to be stirred until the pot is ready to be eaten (after about 2 or so hours on the fire), and it's served with some rice. Hmm. Now I'm starving. And best of all, I don't have to do anything... besides wash the dishes afterwards.

On second thought, maybe I should complain to someone...

The War of the Mentally Unstable.

2005-07-01T19:33:00.000+02:00

I've decided to not be just another news-commentary blog, but I simply can't resist mouthing a few words about Tom Cruise and his denial of the therapy currently in use for the treatment of mental illnesses. (For those who don't know, I'm about as unstable as they come, and have to use anti-deps even though I am pregnant). As if that wasn't enough, he went on to attack Brooke Shields for using anti-depressants and therapy to deal with her post-natal-depression.

Brooke defended herself and called his claims "ridiculous, as reported in this article here.

This just left me wondering: does the wonderful Mr. Cruise have talents/anatomical parts as yet unheard of? Some sort of qualification or research to back up his claims, or more pertinantly, some experience in PND? I would have loved to see him eat his words after he suffers from it, but since his kids are adopted and he himself can't exactly carry, give birth and suffer the hormonal fluctuations that pregnancy and children bring, I can't help but wonder where he gets the right to make statements like that and present it as truth on international TV.

Of course, everyone's entitled to their own opinions about things like this, but honestly, it's just stupid to open your mouth on international TV, commenting on things about which you know absolutely nothing but what your church tells you.

Perhaps we should put Telkom on his back and see him deny his own mental instability after months of trying to reason with them and get some form of service from them. Now that would be entertaining.

Damn the Man!

2005-07-01T19:10:00.000+02:00

WARNING: Rant ahead.

This is life in South Africa. We have one, yes one single, telecomunications company, named Telkom (see telephone on image). Since they have no competition, they simply screw us with telephone call prices and internet pricing, because we have nowhere else to go. Example: Since we have nowhere else to get internet access from (not talking ISP here, talking actual lines and whatnot, all the hardware stuff you need), they simply charge us something like 300-500% of what other countries charge, and you still have to pay them for the telephone line usage and ISP services.

Then, 2-3 years ago, they finally brought out DSL connections, to the joys of many, since phone-bills were through the roof. Now you can pay a fixed amount (still costing something like $200) for "unlimited access". The catch: you are only allowed 3 Gig of bandwidth usage, uploads and downloads. For those of you, like me a few months ago, with no clue about what this is, it means you can only surf/download a (very) limited amount.

No one can do anything about it, because they are The Man, and The Man calls the shots. Any other company that wants to come into the game has to either lay out an incredible amount of capital, or use Telkom's lines, and be subjected to Telkom's pricing.

As if that wasn't bad enough, their simple call service is still somehting like 300% more than the rest of the world has to pay, analysts say. I haven't actually sat and worked out how much different countries charge for their calls, so I'll take their word for it.

New Layout!!

2005-06-30T16:57:00.000+02:00

I designed my very own layout! Yay for me! What do y'all think? Please don't hesitate to tell me, even if you don't like it, as I'm dying to know what others think. I've spent the last three days on it, sleeping almost nothing, and now I'm soooo tired, I think I'm going to go directly to bed, without passing go.

Also, please let me know if there are any problems in the display of the layout! I've tested it to work in both Internet Explorer and Mozilla, but you never know what bugs are lurking around.

The quest for the perfect layout

2005-06-28T20:00:00.000+02:00

I am not one who believes in posting just for posting's sake, so this post actually has a point. I've been looking around, trying to find the perfect layout or the perfect picture for the perfect layout. I'll try out a few, which will probably take some time to code, so I'll not be posting too often, but please let me know what you think about the layout whenever you happen to drop in!

A rose by any other name...

2005-06-22T15:43:00.000+02:00

So, I've been away for a week or so, visiting family etc. In that time, what struck me is how people react to the name you have chosen!

Take me, for instance. Hubby and me have decided, since before we knew what it was, that if it was a girl, her name would be Logan. Yes, I know in America it's a terrible name, but here in South Africa it's really wonderful. Names are cultural, you know. You'd almost never met an American named Bongani or Siyabonga, yet these are two very common names here. So keep that in mind before you offload on me on how it is a boy's name. Just because that's the way it is where you live doesn't make it the way it is here where I live.

Anyway, my family frowns on it (or that's the impression I get) because it's not "Afrikaans" enough, if you can believe it! Now I'd be the first to admit that our surname is pretty much the definition of a traditional, Afrikaans surname. Which is why I want our baby to have an English first name that's easily pronouncable in Afrikaans too. Only thing is, no one in my family seems to "get" that!

Ah well, luckily they had their chance to name their kids, now it's my turn, bwhahaha.

Now it may seem to some that I'm obsessed with the "name" thing, but it's getting pretty important, seeing as how we're already in week 32 of the pregnancy!

Anyway, for a middle name we're (by which I mean I am) considering either "Danielle" or "Gabrielle". Not Daniella, or Gabriella, since those are too "Afrikaans" (and too long, our surname's a mouthfull). Both of those are names that I would have liked as first names, but Logan is the only one hubby and me can agree on, so Logan it is.

Of course, my naming worries are absolutely nothing compared to the problems the US government has with that spy plane that went down! Maybe I should name the baby Roswell, and give the US government something else to deny.

Letters from the edge of the known universe

2005-06-14T19:45:00.000+02:00

Hah. Can I tell you a story of drugs, anger, one husband almost loosing what I'm sure he'd consider to be essential equipment, the trauma....

Wait, let me start at the beginning. After a long, well-deserved rest, I am back and blogging. Lots to blog about tonight, sadly, lacking the incentive to do so. Tired tired tired.

Wait, this is a long story.

After weeks of procrastination by my darling husband, I finally got him to commit that we'd be starting our 8-week pre-natal classes tonight. Hubby says ok, I've been nagging since March, but whatever.

So then it turns out that there are no more classes! The ladies presenting it are going on holliday and will resume only in August. Now, my due date is mid-August, and these are the only classes in my area, so basically, I'm screwed.

I feel so angry at my dh. If we could have started when I asked him, in JANUARY, we wouldn't be having this problem!

What makes me that saddest is that I was really looking forward to meeting other moms-to-be, since I don't know any! *Wail wail*

So, upon hearing that classes only resume in August, and that it's due to my dh that we still hadn't joined, I was FURIOUS and took some calming pills that my psychiatrist game me for situations like that. Now I'm feeling less angry, but very tired and groggy, which is the point, I guess.

Well, it seems like, having failed again and again, as I have, should not be seen as failure by these bold astronomers: They claim to have found another planet with very earth-like characteristics, and are convinced that finding a planet like earth is just a matter of time.

Good, I say, for then we can move Micheal Jackson to that planet and have world peace once more.

The Yuneek Alphabet

2005-06-08T20:31:00.000+02:00

Tryndee parents suck, and they should all be made to wear the names they make their kids wear. I'm sorry, I just had to say that. Inserting Y's everywhere (would you like y's with that?), misspelling the simplest names, missing the fact that words actually have *meanings* and are not just a collection of sounds...

I was reading the forums over at the Bad Baby Names place, and this is actually a name, apparently:
Abcd: Feminine, pronounced absidee.

Then of course, there are the parents who are paid money by a certain online casino, to name their children goldencasinodotcom. I kid you not.

What are people thining? Naming children is a sacred responsibility, not a joke or a for-laughs game! Ugh!

And don't even get me started on Nevaeh. It's supposed to be "Heaven" backwards, but how the hell do you pronounce it, and can't you just see the joke? "Oh yah, she was "heaven" *snigger snigger*".

At least the namers of Nevaeh, or the majority of them, anyways, don't claim that their names are "yuneek".

But it's genetic!

2005-06-08T16:03:00.000+02:00

The news today is just buzzing with the newest research, done on pairs of female twins by the St Thomas's hospital in London. In their report, it is found that "between 34 and 45 percent of the variation in the ability to orgasm" can be blamed on genetics.

I must say, the article was quite engrossing, and does make a lot of sense... but can't you just imagine it? "Oh, my inability to orgasm (like my inability to stop eating) is genetic, nothing they can do...". Heh.

In other twin-related news, a woman who has received an ovary transplant (with her identical twin as donor) delivered her baby without complications, after conceiving just a few months after the surgery, and the drs are saying that she can have more babies. Yay for her!

The pot-issue has been referred to congress, with the hopes of coming to a conclusion that would lead to similar control as there is currently over things like cocaine and morphine, which are used for medical purposes but are illigal to use recreationally. My personal opinion is that *all* drugs should be banned from "recreational" use, but hey, that's just me. I'm sure a lot of valiumed Pretoria princesses would disagree.

I'm watching the Mac-InTel epic with interest, because it could mean an end to windows. Anything that combats the evil of the Gatekeeper and his team of wanton scientists seeking to clam the entire world in the tyrannical chains of materialistic computering gets my vote! (Says the user of a home pc which runs AMD and Windows XP).

Then, of course, there's the omnipresent African Aid issue. Well, it's omnipresent here in Africa, at least. Apparently the British are welcoming their Prime Minister's convincing US president Bush to give Aid to Africa. Isn't that a catchy slogan? Aid to Africa's AIDs problem. I think I should copyright that!

Locally, that slimy SOB Shaik was sentenced to only 15 years in jail. For those of you who are not from South Africa, he is the owner of some companies who, together with our present vice-president and future president, Jacob Zuma, commited major and gross corruption in the South African Arms deal, robbing the country/state of millions.

He should have been locked away for life, along with his buddy Mr. Future President Zuma if you ask me, but hey. At least it's better than nothing, and they're deciding whether to proscute that corrupt Zuma. I swear, if he becomes president of this country, I will seriously consider fleeing. Can't you just imagine the dimensions corruption would take on *then*? I could just hear it now: "Yeah, we thought corruption was a problem in 2005. *laughter all around*". Shudder.

Then, in China, the Chinese government requires all blog-users, companies etc. to register or be shut down. All of this in a desperate attempt to control the internet. I can't decide wether this is hilarious or sad. "Open up! This is the Net Police, and you haven't registered that blog!" Bloggist types furiously to summon help online, while police shout "Don't do that! You can't type without a license! You bad, bad man/woman!"

Sad, I fear.

Of course, the whole world is trying to guess what Britney Spears is carrying... for some strange reason, they are mainly concerned about it being a boy or girl, with the latest verdict being pink. I just can't understand it. Why aren't people more concerned with *what* she is carrying? A future bad pop-song-singing autograph-signing-while-bitching little Spederline! The world as we know it could come to an end, with grinning celeb kids being responsible for the fact, and all people are concerned about is "Is it a boy or a girl?"

At least, if its a girl, she can tell Ricki, Jerry and everyone else "Well, my mother says she had her first orgasm after she married... but I've been orgasming since before I can remember. Where does that leave me? It's genetic, you know!"

Insomnia and the Edge of Madness

2005-06-07T20:24:00.000+02:00

I've been having the most trouble with insomnia this past week! I just can't fall asleep. I'd roll around, and still be awake at 3, 4, even 5 am. That was all good, because since I'm such a lazy bum, I don't have anywhere to go or anything to do, so I can sleep until 2pm if I so wish. However, lately I've been waking 9-ish, and couldn't get back to sleep! Argh!

"They" say that it might actually be preparation for the sleepless nights to come, but I simply can't see that being so big a problem for me. I'm very privileged, and won't have to work or do anything except take care of Logan, so I should be able to sleep during the day, when she does, right? Or am I just deluded?

Anyway, I'm just too tired to do anything constructive in terms of writing today. I think I'm going to crawl into bed with some Chamomile/Lavender tea and my favourite book of all time, Tigana, and leave the heavy cogitation for someone who actually would be able to do it.

For tonight, at least.

In the News today:

2005-06-07T19:12:00.000+02:00

The Blair/Bush Meeting:

Yes indeedy. Africa, standing with its hands outstretched and begging for aid and debt-relief. Why am I feeling the deja-vu sensation?

I totally agree that poverty and famine should be fought, but I don't know if begging for money off the rich countries is the answer. I don't know what the answer is, though, so I'm still open on that one.

New Harry Potter Book!

Now this, I am very exited about. Can't wait, in fact. I'm not sure when it will be released here in SA, but it oughtn't be too long after the UK and US releases, wot wot?

Experimental Ebola Vaccine Works in Monkeys

This is excellent news. Ebola and Marburg disease have been wreaking havok in Central Africa for a while now, especially among the really young. Obviously it needs more research, but it's certainly a heartening turn of events, for those of us in Africa at least.

SA military fights 'war' on Aids

Another story that is very relevant to us here in Dark Africa. HIV/AIDs really is an immense problem, and one that is of such proportions that every single person in South Africa either has AIDs or know someone who does. It's really affecting everyone... from little things like men having to curb their tempers because hitting some guy could involve blood and transmission (Yes, this happened to a guy I know) to having to strictly keep our kids from biting, to... well. The implications are just legio.

I personally think that this estimate of 23% is way, way conservative, but hey. That's just me. Maybe the Army rats (we have tons of friends in the army, so I can say that) know something we "regulars" or "civvies" don't.

Mental Illness said to affect one quarter of Americans

Wouldn't surprise me at all... not because of this and that, but mental illness really is more prevalent than we want to believe. I myself suffer from a mental illness... the psych can't decide wether it's Bipolar Disorder or Borderline Personality Disorder... or just plain depression. I have no clue myself, only know that I've been feeling lanks better these days. That's good enough for me.

That's about it for the news of today... though I must that I'm a bit too tired to really get into it. Maybe tomorrow?

One last post for the day...

2005-06-06T23:02:00.000+02:00

Wow, I'm not usually this loquacious. But this is one more thing that deserves attention, I believe, this time of the positive variety.

Star News of North Carolina included a story on June 4:

Doctor won’t make the cut
Feeling pressure from hospital for more c-sections, she leaves

The article reports that Dr. Helen Sandland of Wilmington, NC, had a cesarean section rate of under 10%. “Her philosophy, admittedly different from the mainstream, attracted many patients who wanted the best chance of having a vaginal delivery. Dr. Sandland became known as one of the few doctors in the area who would try to deliver breech babies naturally or pursue a vaginal birth with a woman who already had one child with a c-section. Her solo practice boomed.”

“A letter from New Hanover Regional Hospital’s “Professional Review Committee, stated “concerns” regarding her practice. They include higher than average infant birth weights, much lower than average c-section rates and later than average gestational age of neonates at delivery.” This would mean doubling her cesarean section rate to at least 20%.”

A second letter, from the acting chairman of the Credentials Committee, stated: “Your c-section rate is to be within an acceptable range as determined by the NHRMC OB/GYN Department with a plus or minus deviation of two.”

The article reports that “Mrs. Gerlach said the hospital charges $4,700 on average for noncomplicated vaginal deliveries and $14,200 for noncomplicated c-sections. Those amounts do not include doctor fees.”

The hospital claimed that Dr. Sandland’s low cesarean section rate increases the hospital’s vulnerability to liability lawsuits. However, no proof of this was offered, and the article also reported that Sandland does not have a problem with liability lawsuits.

According to the news article, rather than giving in to the hospital’s pressure, Dr. Sandland quit and is moving to Mississippi to practice with a colleague who has a practice philosophy similar to her own.

You can read the entire article at:
http://www.starnewso.....NEWS/50604016&SearchID=73210261396639
The newspaper site does require a free registration to view the article.

I just wanted to say GOOD for her. If only more OB/GYNS would have the guts to do this, and practise scientifically safe medicine instead of tradition, the world would be a much safer place for mothers and babies. I truly believe that.

Here's the good doctor's website.
http://www.drsandland.yourmd.com/

So, Dr Sandland, we salute you for being a REAL doctor and hero, one who puts the interests and safety of her patients first, as opposed to those of her bank account or collegues. What a woman!

Salut!

Child Rearing Rant

2005-06-06T21:52:00.000+02:00

First off, let me say, anyone who knows me know how anti-spanking I am. I just don't believe it's justified or necessary, ever. The research and scientific data on this is very clear.

That being said, I'll be the first to admit that children who are not disciplined are the worst kind of brat, and much worse. No spanking does not mean no discipline, and discipline does not mean spanking. I just wanted to make that clear.

Now this article drives me crazy. I found it through the BabyCentre Bulletin Board that I like to visit (a debate board called Childbirth Choices, for those interested), where someone posted the link to the article. Which can be found, by the way, here.

So, since there's soooo many things about this article that irks me, I'll just dissect it, and add my comments in Bold. I'll also cut out some of the article for brevity reasons, for which you should all be very, very thankful.

When toddlers get fired
My 2-year-old son was booted out of his preschool for biting -- and now my wife and I are facing a summer of hell.

May 28, 2005 | One afternoon a couple of weeks ago, I picked up my son Elijah from school. The other kids were all napping or playing quietly. His teacher was sitting at a low table with him, in a chair four sizes too small for her. She was surrounded by a palpable aura of exhaustion and defeat.

"I'm at my wit's end," she said.

This wasn't some early-childhood education major in her first job since graduation. Elijah's teacher had been doing this for 25 years. And now she was admitting defeat at the hands of a 2-year-old.

Note how this teacher, who have been doing it for 25 years, is "admitting defeat", and not consulting with a parent about something that's become a real problem.

"He bit again today," she said. "There was blood. We've tried everything. We can't stop him."

The next day, Elijah chomped on another kid, and scratched still another one over the eye. The day after that was a Friday. An afternoon teaching assistant called us at home. Elijah had put a rock up his nose, and they couldn't get it out. When we picked him up to take him to a doctor who would stick a vacuum up his schnozzle, Elijah's teacher told us we had to have a conference Monday afternoon.

"We're probably going to talk about solutions," my wife, Regina, said.

"No, we're not," I said. "They're gonna expel him."

"Don't be negative," she said.

That Monday, Regina took Elijah to school in the morning. Teacher was there, a cloud of dread hanging over her. "I got a call at home about the rock," teacher said. "Last week, I pulled another rock out of his nose. Two weeks ago, I pulled spaghetti out of his nose."

None of these are so bad in itself, but does the continuous bad reactions of this little boy tell you something?

Suddenly, Regina realized that the school was probably going to posit one "solution." She came home and said: "If they do boot him out, screw them. I'm tired of feeling like I have a child who's especially difficult. Every kid has his issues. It's not like he's 7 years old and doing this."

So it's a-okay that a child repeatedly bites other children, at least one of which bites were so vicious that it bled, as long as he's not too old when he does it?

"Yeah!" I said. "Screw them!"

- - - - - - - - - - - -

The very same day we were called in for a meeting at Elijah's preschool, the Yale Child Study Center released a report, "Pre-kindergartners Left Behind," which said preschool students were being expelled, across the country, at three times the rate of all students from kindergarten to 12th grade combined, and that a high percentage of them were boys. Karen Hill-Scott, an expert on "children's development and their readiness for school," told the New York Times: "What the data tells us, as does the show 'Supernanny,' is that there are a lot of out-of-control kids out there." Yes, some of the kids are immature or even borderline violent, but there's a reason for that: They're kids.

I totally disagree with this. Children of preschool age are old enough to know better than to bite and be violent against other children all the time. I agree that children do get boisterous and immature, of course they do. However, the other children in Elijah's class are not biting, are they, and *they* are kids too!

Out-of-control kids are an epidemic, and it's all because of parents like these.

The real problem here, one that the study barely addresses, is that parents, because they have to work, have no choice but to send kids to expensive, overcrowded preschools, for far more hours a week than kids are emotionally and mentally ready to handle. The waiting lists for the "best" schools are as long as those for some private high schools. Even getting accepted at second- and third-tier schools takes months. Many preschools have no reputation to protect, few standards to follow, and a long line of desperate parents at the gates, so they don't have to deal with your kid if he or she is hard work. There's always someone behind you waiting to pony up the $200 to $500 a month.

This is actually a very valid point, and one which all of our respective governments will do well to address.

Except for the few hours a week when she teaches a class at the local community college, my wife and I both work at home. The house is small. I write in a corner of the living room, and Regina, when she can, goes to paint in the garage. Even if we hired an inexperienced nanny on the cheap, the kid would still be underfoot most of the
day, screeching.

We're all dying to know why you had kids if all he's going to be doing at home is "be underfoot and screech".

We're in a strangely common situation: If we don't put our kid in preschool, we can't afford to send him to preschool.

Once again, a valid point. Still no excuse for not disciplining a child, or giving him attention when he *is* home, though.

When Elijah was around 14 months old, we started looking. Regina hadn't worked since he was born, and her brain was starting to melt out her ears. The two hours a day of "daddy time" that we'd set aside for me were only occasionally tenable. I may have been working in the same room where we kept the diaper bag, but I was still working.

We're sure you will always be too busy working to spend two stupid hours a day with your child. You must be working from 4am to 12 pm, you workhorse you.

We got ourselves on the waiting lists at two Jewish schools, but there won't be an opening at either of them until 5750, and I don't mean the Hebrew calendar. There was a near-miss where we almost sent Elijah to an outlet of a for-profit chain school that mostly preys on children of healthcare employees, and a brush with a place that was run by uptight marms out of a Dickens novel. One afternoon, we got a call from our fourth or fifth choice, a not incredibly expensive Montessori school 10 minutes away from our house. They had our check within an hour.

Elijah was in school from 8:30 a.m. to 1:30 p.m. Monday through Friday. The school was OK. Within a few months, Elijah knew his alphabet, his days of the week, the state of Texas on sight, seemingly hundreds of songs, and he could count to 40. At the same time, they showed the kids Barney videos while they were changing their diapers and gave them Country Time lemonade while calling it "juice."

Oh, the horror of this! How dare they call it "juice"! The inhumanity. And we bet you *never* let him watch Barney at home, right, dedicated parent that you are.

When we complained, the director ignored us. But at least we had our mornings.

And then he started to bite.

At first, it was only occasional, and totally excusable, since he wasn't even 2 yet.

Once again, so just because he's little, that makes it alright to bite, as opposed to teaching him that "We don't bite."

A kid was playing with a ball he wanted, and he took a chomp. The first day it happened, I went out to the playground, where he was happily sliding. He'd forgotten about the incident. He was more interested in playing peek-a-boo with me.

When I got home, Regina and I tried gentle discipline.

By which time, as he noticed earlier, the boy had forgotten all about it and had no clue WTF you were going on about. What a smart guy.

"Elijah," I said in my most stentorian voice. "Look at
me."

He did, his eyes big, sheepish and serious.

"Biting is very, very bad."

"It makes other kids sad," Regina said. "And they cry."

"It's wrong, and you can't do it anymore," I said. "Now, what did you do at school today that was wrong?"

"All fall down!" Elijah said.

Case in point. Forgot aaaall about it. Still, I guess I should give them a little credit for at least trying.

"No, Elijah," I said. "I'm not talking about Ring Around the Rosie. What did you do that was bad?"

"Um..." he said. "BI! BI BA!"

"That's right. Biting is bad. Are you going to bite someone again?"

"Nuuuuuuuu."

Things got worse when he went to the "big kids class" for older toddlers. When we'd signed Elijah up, there were 13 kids in each class, with two teachers and a whole gaggle of assistants. By the time he moved up, it was 17 kids, there were fewer assistants, and we were paying $50 more a month. He unleashed himself. For months, he bit three days out of five.

Why do you think this is? Maybe because it was the only way to get attention from both the staff and his parents, who see him as nothing more than a screeching nuisance?

In particular, Elijah seemed to enjoy biting a sad-eyed little girl named Sophie, with whom he was obviously in love. He wouldn't stop talking about her at home. "Daddy, what's Sophie doing?" he'd ask. Or he'd say, "I bite Sophie!" and start cackling. I found myself having to say, both because it was true and because it was funny, "Elijah, you can only bite girls if they ask you to."

Oh yes. Those fatherly talks in which the young are corrupted. "But I thought it was funny!" God, people should really be made to pass a written and practical exam before being allowed to have kids.

But it started growing less funny. Friends suggested therapy, but our crappy health insurance, which costs us $500 a month, doesn't cover therapy. At school, they told him to "use his words," but using his words wasn't really the problem, since he knows how to use his words just fine. That said, he's not capable of voicing a thought much more complex than "I want ice on my boo-boo," or "Maybe there's a rabbit in my closet that's scaring me." Not much for a shrink to work with there.

And you'd know, because in addition to your talents as Super Parent, you are also a "shrink"?

They were putting him in timeout at school, but he didn't seem to mind that, either, because it was one of the rare times he got individual attention.

At scool and at home. No wonder this kid is acting out. Do you blame him? In the immortal words of Dr Phil: People do what work, and that is working for him!

We devised an incentive program with his teachers. If you don't bite, we told him, you'll get ice cream. But after a couple of days of ice cream, he was sated, and he'd bite again. They told us to start sending him to school with a family picture in his pocket. If he bit they'd take the picture away. This worked for about three days. That's when we got called in for the conference.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

The Yale study recommends that states prohibit pre-K expulsion, develop clear policies for dealing with children with behavioral problems, and require training for all preschool teachers to deal with these problems.

So is this guy's theory really that Elijah's teacher, whom he says has been involved with kids for 25 years, didn't know how to deal with problems? Not likely, methinks.

Those are fine recommendations, and I really hope privately funded schools also take heed, though I suspect the prospects are slim. I certainly know that a "behavioral aide" would have been nice for us these last few months. Our son may be a mildly psychotic hothead, but he's also smart and cute and funny. The school certainly tried, and so did we, but we all ended up treating him as just another naughty kid. Instead of actual help, we had a series of quarter measures inevitably leading to a conference that detailed a disciplinary disaster.

Sometimes "quarter measures" are necessary, I'd be the first to say, but usually a little attention to what the kid is trying to say by acting out and what he's gaining will work much better, won't you agree?

Elijah's teacher gave us a stack of injury reports an inch thick. They were all for things Elijah had done to other kids.

"These are just this month's," she said. "And they're just the ones where he drew blood. It also doesn't include the dozens of times we've caught him just before he attacked another kid. We have to pull him off kids three or four times a day." She sighed.

Is it obvious only to me that this poor child has some serious issues that he's trying to convey?

"I have seven new kids coming into my class next month," she continued. "And they're little."

Regina and I looked at each other. Here came the hammer.

"I just think it'll be better for everyone," teacher said, "and that Elijah might be happier, if he went somewhere else."

There's no cataloging the feeling of helplessness that washed over Regina and me then. Our child was being expelled. From preschool. What had we done wrong? I felt terribly guilty. Though I was never a biter, my own childhood was full of intermittent emotional outbursts, fights, visits to behavioral specialists when the schools made them available, and lots of muddled weeping. This continued well into adulthood, until about a year and a half ago when I started taking a pill that shall not be named here but that helped me a lot. Elijah's struggles made me especially sad because I knew that not much could be done to soothe his turbulent little mind.

Do you really believe that? After a "little pill" helped you? Don't you think that's for a therapist to decide?

The fact that he has my full sympathy and understanding will provide little solace whenever that chemical stew inside his cranium goes out of balance. Why couldn't he have inherited his mother's demeanor? She's a little bossy and self-righteous, but at least she's sane.

"I guess we knew there was a problem," Regina said. "But..."

The teacher said she felt "sick" about this. She'd had to talk to her boss, the school's director. The boss came to class and said, "Him? How could he be trouble? He looks like a little Botticelli... "

Elijah's teachers were kind and more than competent, but terribly overworked. As for the director, she could have seen our son sometime between the day she'd first taken our money and the day she'd expelled him. Maybe, I thought, if she didn't leave 17 kids in the charge of two teachers, we might have had less of a problem. Now she was telling me my kid looks like a Botticelli cherub?

I agree, about the 17 kids to 2 teachers ratio. Still, if the school won't do anything about it, it remains the parents's responsibility to insist on it, even if it means going to extra trouble to rally the other parents and call meetings etc.

"He's smart as a whip," teacher said. "I can see it in his eyes when I talk to him. He understands everything. He just has problems with impulse control. Maybe you should get him some clay," she said. "Something he can pound his aggression into. Or find him a nanny who can give him individual attention."

Bingo!

I wanted to say: He already has clay, superstar. And do we look like we can afford a nanny?
Valid point. Still, what'd be more expensive, therapy bills or a nanny? Just wondering, because from what I can see, and I'll be the first to say that obviously it's not the full story, this is heading for a trainwreck.

Instead, I said...

"Can we just have until June 1?"

On the drive home, Regina and I could barely keep from weeping. Our respective families were 1,000 miles away in either direction. We were terrified at the prospect of a summer without help. The irony was that we don't have the $1,500 it would have cost to warehouse Elijah through September, so we might have had to pull him out anyway. But now we've been forced into the challenge of caring for a smart, stubborn, high-strung 2-year-old.

Which is, anyone would think, exactly why you had him. Or were you just planning to "warehouse" him until he's old enough to live on his own and care for himself?

We love him very much, but that's not the kind of work either of us wants, at least not full time.

Holy God. He actually said that he doesn't want to take care of his kid. I swear. I understand that full time is a bit hectic for some parents, but this little boy is in serious need of help!

"I was a good boy, mama and daddy!" Elijah said.

"Yes, son," I said.

"I no put rocks up my nose today!"

"Good boy," I said.

"No!" he said. "I not a good boy! I hurt my friends!"

"Oh," Regina said.

"I'm a good boy!" he shrieked. "I'm a good boy! I'm a good boy!"

One day last week, Regina dropped Elijah off at school. Teacher was standing there with a little girl. They looked very serious.

"This is Sophie," teacher said.

She lifted the girl's shirt. There was an enormous bite mark on Sophie's back that was just beginning to scab over. Sophie's dad had started calling the school. From here on, Elijah wouldn't be allowed anywhere near any of the other kids. That would be his last day.

If Sophie was my little girl, I'd have personally had a chat with the biting kid's parents... because I really think this is a "parenting" thing, not a "bad child" thing.

At home, Regina had this to say, through tears.

"I feel like a bad mother!" she said. "I don't want to spend all summer with him! He's difficult! He's a difficult child! He wants too much from me. And you're going to go crazy if he's around all the time. Our marriage always suffers when he's home!"

I'm speechless. Do you people honestly think your son doesn't know that you don't want him home? Do you seriously think that that doesn't affect his behaviour in every way?

"So our marriage has to suffer," I said.

"This is a fiasco," she said.

Later that afternoon, a few of Regina's paintings were going on display at a local gallery. My job was to keep Elijah from tearing the room apart. I was reasonably successful. When we got home, I had some things to empty out of the car. Regina took Elijah inside. He was begging her to let him open the refrigerator. I came inside to hear this:

"AHHHHH! He bit me!"

I threw down the sippy cups, shouted something like "I've had it with your goddamn biting!" scooped Elijah up by the armpits, and plopped him down into the "penalty chair," our version of Supernanny's "naughty mat." I held him there until he stopped shrieking, and then he gave me a kiss and apologized to his mommy.

I bet he did. He was given the undivided attention of both his parents for at least 5 minutes. I'd just bet he loved it, even though it was negative attention.

All was peaceful again in the house, temporarily. But Elijah still had the same problems and we were still broke. In our minds and in our hearts, Regina and I silently wished the summer away.

****

I just can't tell you how upset reading this makes me. They had a child, and now they "don't want the job" of taking care of him! This poor little boy. I really wish I knew them, just to give the boy a huge hug and say "I know exactly how it feels when your parents don't want you around, but don't worry, they're the stupid ones, not you." Well, maybe he's a bit young for that, but you know what I mean.

A parenting exam. I'll keep saying it. Nothing too strenuous, God knows, I'm not SuperMom or anything, but just some things that are basic sense. Like, if you have a baby, you'll have to take care of it for 18 years at least, and that doesn't mean "warehousing" the kid for the duration.

Introductions all around

2005-06-06T16:36:00.000+02:00

I know I'm a little late, jumping on the blogging bandwagon and all, but hey. I was late in jumping on the pregnancy bandwagon as well, so sue me. So, let's get started.

My name is really Leia-Ann. It's not some freaky RPG-character-type name I made up because I was obsessed with Star Wars and the Galaxy Far Far Away. That was my mother. Seriously. She even looked up (way back then, in 1981, before the days of the Internet, Google and Yahoo) the correct spelling of the name. So yes, I was named after Princess Leia. And my name is pronounced LEE-ah, rhyming with "Mia", ANNE. I have a middle name as well, it starts with a Q (an no, ironicaly enough, it's not Quinne or Queen).

I actually like my names. I didn't always, you understand. I remember in pre-primary school, and through most of my school years after that, I longed to change my name to something innocuous. I was especially fond of the name "Linda", as I recall. Now, I can fully appreciate the uniqueness and strangeness of my name, and I must say, I think it's pretty cool. Even having to spell it to people all the time.

Another important piece of information that you should know about me is that I live in South Africa. Yes, that's the country where Apartheid reigned until about a decade ago. I was 13 when the first elections took place, and can still remember the paranoid fear that most white people harboured about being all killed. It was quite funny, actually, though even at the time, I found it highly irritating. Most people I knew stocked up on stuff like water, matches, etc. Survival gear. They seriously thought the world as they knew it would grind to a slow and shocking (and for them, final) halt.

Now, at least most of them are both older and wiser, and on the whole pretty enthusiastic about living in South Africa.

Okay, so we've established a name, as well as a country of origin. What else do you tell people when you first meet them? No, seriously. I've never really paid attention to any schooling in the niceties of society and so on, if such schooling would have happened.

I am married to a wonderful man. We've been married since January of this year, but we've been together for 4 years and some odd days now. (I can't really tell you *how* odd, sometimes :)). We are expecting our first child in August (round about mid-Aigust, though little ones tend to have a diary all of their own), and it's going to be a girl. We also have 2 cats (one Siamese male who'll be one year old in August and one Moggie female, 5 months) and a Boerboel puppy of about 4 months.

For those of you wondering what in blazes a Boerboel is, it's a cross-breeding between a bull Mastiff and, I think, a Boxer. It's a recognized breed here, very popular with farmers.

Phew, I think that's enough for now, don't you?

I'll talk to you again tomorrow or so.

L