Wise ass me

I am wise and intelligent and beautiful, and anything you can do, I can do better. Ha! That pretty much sums up all the things we *in all truth and honesty* know better never to actually utter, but really do believe about ourselves. Ok, ok, none of you believe that about yourselves. I used to think I was so great, and of all people you could discuss your problems with, I'd give you the best advice. I would actually be really upset and offended if people didn't take my advice, or at least hear me out. No actually, I'm lying here if I say I USED to feel upset when people didn't take my advice. I still do that.
On one such occasion a few years ago, I was dishing out such incredibly wise advice, when my listening friend responded with a "you're such a wise ass" quirp. Those were her actual words. My mouth hung open in utter shock! I'm not a wise ass, I'm just really wise. I was reeling for a while. I just couldn't put her statement together with my reality of what a great individual I was.
As shocked as I was that her response was so brutal, I am eternally grateful for that remark, because that day I learnt not to be so obvious about being more intelligent than everyone else.
And then, by God's grace, He allowed me to grow older, and would you know it, wiser! And behold, one day I looked back upon the life I had lived, and discovered, I had learnt something, and by some miracle it appears, I was wiser now than I had been then. Oh the shame! How stupid had I been then? The issue with how stupid I was back then, is that I had believed the opposite.
Then I realized, that I was possibly only about a third of the way through my life experience, and probably would be learning other little nuggets of wisdom in time to come. Whoops. I actually know quite little then, don't I.
Yet, in spite of the perspective I've gained, I'm alarmed at the number of times I still find myself rolling my eyes while thinking I know better than someone, whose uncomfortable shoes I've never even set food in. Oh the pride of it!
The reality is that without Christ, I am nothing! And when I think I am it, then I have shoved Jesus very firmly out of my picture, meaning that when I think I'm great, I'm nothing. When I know it's Christ in me the hope of glory, then I walk in favor and authority.
That is when I am so incredibly grateful for God's mercy and grace. If God hadn't gently taught me, and allowed me to make mistakes and learn from them, I would still be in that place where I am a nothing who thinks I'm everything. Ironic.

Things I love about winter

• Snuggling
• Cosy bed at night
• Fire in the fire place, love that!
• Cups of tea - warm me up, not overheat me
• Hot drinks like milo, horlicks, hot chocolate

But the best thing about winter, by far, is that spring is back in less than 4 months, because really I hate winter. I tried really hard putting it mildly. I also really tried putting a positive spin on things, (see list above). But really, if I was being truly honest, I'd be throwing a winter tantrum right now. I really don't like winter, and I've been putting it mildly right here. Honest would be screaming like a banshee.
You see, I like drinking my tea piping hot. Piping, piping hot. In winter I have a few split seconds to get this right, thus, I have to gulp it down, or risk drinking only half a cup before it's too cold (by my fussy standards)
Also, I'm lazy. Taking the time to put lotion on my super dry winter skin, does not suit me very well, I'd rather be getting dressed so I can try my hardest to escape the cold. It also means I'm cold that much longer.
The most obvious part of not loving winter, is that I do not enjoy the cold. Added to that, I really feel the cold. I'm wearing a jersey when most people are happy in a bikini. So I spend my winters in many, many layers. This really restricts movement. I feel like the Michelin Man most of winter, and then I'm most often STILL cold.
My nose is permanently running in winter. Especially when I'm out running - spot the pun! I have to run with tissues in hand. This is not because I've caught a cold, it's just because it's cold out. And then, my nostrils really begin to burn, because they are permanently moist. In David's words, "not cool, Mama, not cool!"
The skin on my face, especially around my eyes, is so tight. It stings when I apply cream on it.

As you can see, this post is not written in Christianese. I wrote in all honesty.
However, God created winter.
We need winter. Not everything in life suits us well. We don't always love where God places us.  But in winter I really love the sun that I hide from in summer. We learn to love and appreciate the things we'd otherwise never think about or take for granted.
In winter, what we can see dies back and looks ugly. But, what we can't see, gets established and grows stronger. In winter, the branches and leaves get no attention, but the roots grow deep, thick and strong. So that, when spring comes again - yay - the new, fresh leaves are even more beautiful than last summer.

This winter, I will choose to focus on my character. Establish me God, so that I can flourish for your glory in my spring

sewing

One of the lovely things about having girls, is that I get to sew for them. Using the loveliest, sweetest girly colours and buttons with lace and all the trimmings. And so I'm sewing a few summer things for them right now.

a cup of tea

Another thing about me, I LOVE TEA. I don't actually even know wether I can live without tea, I'm way too scared to try. A real teapot, me. You know how mommies say they never manage to finish their mugs of whatever it is they drink, and so there are half full, icy cold mugs all around the house? Well, that never happens to me, I cradle my tea in my hand and walk around with it, and HATE when I've swallowed the last sip. I drink it piping hot, so it's always finished in next to no time at all. The only bad thing is, I need the loo every so often. So, I've developed a bit of a habit. I have my first cup of tea, and then a while later I need the loo, and immediately go make myself the next cup. Tea follows immediately after a trip to the ladies.
So now picture this, I drink my tea piping hot, as I've mentioned, I drink it as I've poured it. I also, when I can, make it in a pot, and then pour it into the thin-rimmed, mind you, mug. But imagine my irritation, when I boil the kettle, and as I pour it into the pot, realise there is only about 50ml of water in the kettle! Well, no wonder it took only a few seconds to boil?!? And then, I decide, to avoid it happening again, I pour about a litre of water in the kettle before boiling it a second time. So now I have 50ml of rapidly cooling "tea" waiting, and waiting and waiting and waiting for it's top up of water. Lesson learnt. To avoid irritation, never become fussy or spoilt about anything. Keep it simple.

The Cross I Bear

I've always been a tense, nervous person. I'm a perfectionist, unfortunately. In my opinion there is more bad than good to perfectionism. The biggest 'thing' to perfectionism is that your best is never good enough. You can somehow never measure up. I know this to be a lie. But, do you think I can tell my mind that? Nope, it gets lost in translation, every single time. And so, I struggle with anxiety. On and off, better then worse, perpetually. Oi. (Hey, there's that word again!)
Anyway, back to the point. Anxiety is the cross I bear. I believe everyone has a cross they bear, a hardship that makes life hard somwtimes. Some crosses are very obvious, like obesity. Some are very easy to hide. Not everyone has the courage to trust someone with the thing they struggle with. Maybe that's pride. We cannot be superwife, supermom, superperson. It's liberating to really believe that, and be ok with it. Tell someone what your problem is, when you do, you don't bear your cross alone anymore.

exlanations

Ok, so in order to know a bit more about me, it is important to know a bit more about my children. Otherwise no one will ever make sense of this blog, there are after all four of them, thus so easy to confuse name, number, placing. They all have big personalities.
Mia, firstborn, turns nine in November. Intelligent, of course! How in the world would she not be, we knew it the day she was born. You know, your first is born, you take one look at them and just KNOW, this child is genius, she's going to be president. More realistically, she probably will follow her dad into business.
By the time Julia was born 2 years later, Mia had sobered us up a bit. Julia would probably not be president, but, she would definitely be top in her class, we can't after all, lower the standard too much. According to Julia, she'll be a designer.
Olivia, almost four, arrived 3 years after Julia. And well, if we ever had moulds or standards for our children, Olivia managed to smash all that to pieces. Here was a girl, much like her mother, who was too stubborn and strong-willed to fit in anybody's mould. Olivia is going to do things her way, thank you very much!
David, born 2 years and 2 months after Olivia-individuality, is just the most placid laid-back boy. Just like his Daddy.
The photo above just is so loaded. David is a little, ok a lot, snotty and so fed up with this photo shoot. Julia is just loving that SHE can hold him, and be posing while doing so. Mia is sweetly looking over at David to see how she can help. Olivia is more than a little perturbed. This noisiness, and the fact that she has to conform, is just absolutely cramping her style. The photo is not so much here because it is so beautiful, but because it's real and says so much.
So, my life is more than a little colourful, but I love it. I feel so blessed and fulfilled.

oi

"Oi? Why oi?" says my clever daughter. "Mama, make a bit more sense!" Well, oi because I am so clueless, so technologically handicapped, that I don't even know what made me start blogging. I just often have words in my head that I want to put down somewhere, so bear with me. I have a lot to learn. Here we go.......