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My poor Ma

Shame my poor Mom has a HUGE swollen and tender ankle. 

On Saturday we went out to Hartebeespoort Dam for lunch and it seems that she ended up with a dodgy tummy after that and was sick most of Saturday evening.  She then got up and went to church with my sister and niece and then went shopping for the week.

At the shops she saw that the SANBS was at the mall and decided to give blood (BEEEG mistake!)  Well she gave blood (don’t think they can even use it if she was sicky the night before?) and all was fine until she and my sister walked away and she fainted in the lift!  My sister pooped in her broek and my niece nearly had a heart failure…. and poor Ma – she twisted her ankle as she passed out.

Poor thing!  Hope she feels better soon.

It’s really not so nice

I’m a potty mouth.  I like to swear.  I really believe that at times there is nothing quite like a well timed, well uttered expeletive.

But honestly?  It’s really not that nice to hear too much swearing from a woman’s mouth.  So I’m really doing my best not to swear too much.  And it is working – well most of the time.

At times other than most – um not so much.

But I am getting better.  I don’t think that I’ll ever give swearing up completely – cos hello, sometimes “FUCK!” or “SHIT!” is the only right response to something, but I will ensure I cut down.  Drastically.

Cos I just don’t want people to think that cos potty mouth is not nicem, that by association I’m not nice.

Awesome!!

A while back I won a blog contest, I was SO excited cos I never win anything.  Even when the one time I was the holder of two of the only three raffle tickets at a school fete.  Yes believe it the other person (who only had one ticket!!!) won!

And boy can I just say that when I win I win BEEEEG!  Sassy sent me a box.

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And then I opened the box!  WOW!  I got a wonderful taste of Australia from her – take a look at this!!!

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(I love the Curly Wurly – considering my maiden name is Curley :))) )

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AND I got an apron and oven glove for when I make the white mud pie thingi (assume it’s a cake cos that’s Sassy’s speciality!)

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WHAT A HAUL!  THANK YOU SO MUCH SASSY 🙂

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What’s in a name?

Thank you for your thoughts and prayers for my Dad.  Right now we’re not sure of anything.  Because he is so far away, information is extremely sketchy from him about his diagnosis.  We know after his visit to SA he was hospitalised for 6 – 8 days (he told me 6, he told my sister 8 and my mom a short while).  We know he has had bone marrow taken for testing (sorry if I’m not using the correct term here, this is all new to me…). According to him those tests were inconclusive (anyone know if he’s talking nonsense here so that he does not scare us?) and he has had a second lot taken for further testing.  Once I know what the deal is, believe me I’ll be venting sharing here.

Right so onto the point of this post – what’s in a name?  We’re in the thick of ICLW (and if you’re not – why on earth not?  Sign up for next month) and I’ve been reading a lot of new blogs and leaving comments all over the place and I’ve been noticing some really cool blog names.  Many names are based on what people believe, or are based on the fact that they’re travelling the IF road, or it’s their family name and so on and so forth.  Some are creative, some have negative connotations, some have positve connotations and some even include my favourite words (rainbow, fart 😉 ).

I decided to choose “Communique” as my blog name, cos I felt like I needed to have this outlet be more than just about my battle to conceive.  I needed it to be an extension of the way I communicate with people.  Hence the name.

So blog buddies – spill, what made you decide on the name you gave your blog?  How did your blog name come into creation?

His Grace

When I was a littlie our family used to go to church often, we went to a charismatic church and I grew up believing that Jesus died on the cross for me and that He had washed my sin away. 

As we got older and moved more and more (12 schools in 12 years of schooling – nuff said) we lost a lot of our faith as a family.  We all believed in God and Jesus but we were not good at practisign what we believed in.  My father was in a dangerous profession and thankfully he always made it home in one piece, time after time after time. 

We grew up and flew the coop but still did not practice our beliefs.  I got married and my Dad did a brief stint in Iraq working for a security company and had two VERY VERY close calls while over there (maybe one day I’ll blog about them).  Two years after my wedding my folks split up.  It was sudden (although in hindsight it probably was not that big a shock) and rocked our family to the core.  My Mom and sister went back to church and re-affirmed their lives to the Lord.  I went along one Sunday and also re-affirmed my life to the Lord.

All the while my father kept saying how he believed in God but would not ever set foot in a church again.  He recently moved to the UK and ended up in Whales and has not been well at all of late.  In fact the doctors there suspect that he has leukemia. (I’m freaking out for him! He’s all alone there guys – with nobody to look after him at all)

Recently my Mom has been councelling him to seek out the Lord cos we never know when our time is coming.  She has not been pushing him but she has been coaxing him to think about it before it’s too late.  Yesterday she got a text from my father asking her if she knew of a church like ours in Whales.  Coming from someone who has not set foot in a church at all for well over 30 years – this is just HUGE.  I cannot be more grateful to God for His grace in this situation.  My Dad probably does not have much longer on this earth (please God he gets to meet my children before he leaves us).  I would be devastated to think that he’s passed without giving his life to the Lord.

I’m so hopeful that he’s asked to go to church.  At least then I’ll know that if the worst comes to the worst he won’t be alone.  And that makes me feel so much better, it makes me feel that we’ll be able to handle whatever it is that is wrong with him.

8 Already

Today my niece turns eight years old.  It’s amazing how quickly time flies.  Eight years ago I was a hung over wreck visting my sister and her baby in hospital and today that little being is a bright, vivacious, sometimes precocious, wonderful, talented young woman little girl.

I often think about what a great job my sister has done with her (my sister is a single mom after she threw her trash talking fiance out after finding out he cheated on her all through her pregnancy a week after their daughter was born).  She’s well mannered and while she pushes boudaries all the time which frustrates me no end, I have to admit that probably all kids do this at some point in their lives. (And probably more often than not!)

I asked her what she wanted for her birthday and she told me “a cousin” and how I wish that I was making that gift a reality right now.  But the fact is that I’m not so her new bike helmet, bike bling and clothes will have to do in the mean time.

Happy Birthday child of my heart – Aunty Sam loves you lots and lots.