Comparing to the Jones's

I have a question(beware I am in one of my moods and regrettably, I don't think Scarlet has anything to do with it). When a person is feeling down it is natural (correct me if I'm wrong) to look at the brighter side of other people's lives. I wish I had full time help like so-n-so, I wish I had a car like him, Wouldn't it be great to have the quality of like that that person over there? You know, the general wanting-to-be-like-the-Jones'-thing. I have been told on a number of occasions that it is not right to compare with others; her kids that listen, her husband that helps and is often there, her lovely clean house. You just have to not compare.

Here comes my question; Why is it wrong to compare to others that have more than you? (I'm not talking about jealousy or envy or comparing in an mean spirited way, I'm talking about wanting it in a strive to better the ways your life isn't. Does that make sense?) The moment one starts the proverbial "bitching" about what more they want, there are those "helpful" souls with the best intentions, who are the ones that told you not to compare in the first place, that remind you of how much more you have than others. Isn't this a little contradictory? I may not compare to strive or want more, but I can compare myself to those who have less or are worse off then I am in attempt to make my lot seem rosier.

I'm confused, so I'm just asking.

Our little Bokkie

Kade played his very first rugby match yesterday and did us very proud. He was a little concerned at playing initially because "I'm not really a good runner with the ball Mom!".

We encouraged him to do his best and he found his niche; tackling. He very proudly informed us that although he may not be very good at running with the ball, he tries his best to make certain that nobody from the other team gets a chance to run their ball to the other side and on occasion he had a few guys down on the ground, at the same time.

We helped him realise that there were other valuable jobs for the team mates to do and being a good tackler was as important a job to the team than just scoring a try. He practically tackled anything that moved after that and he did very well, preventing 6 guys from scoring tries and as a result his team won 8-5.

Perhaps we are going to have another springbok rugby player in the family.

Forgotten promises

It is really weird how life works. Some people call it fate, some call it karma, others like myself, believe that God has us all in the palm of his hand and sends us messages and interventions to help us through life or to teach us lessons in life.

Hubby and I spent the weekend discussing our marriage and whether or not there was anything left to save. Neither of us is entirely happy with life, each other or much of anything right now and we have reached "that" point in our marriage. Do we go forward together or do we call it a day? To make a long story short, we have decided to give it one last try.

Where does God come in you're thinking? Well, I have been invited to a series of scrapbooking evenings, dedicated solely to making a wedding album. I didn't really think too much of it until I spent this afternoon sifting through all my wedding pictures and keepsakes that I had packed away. The things I found and remembered really pulled at my heartstrings; our wedding vows, the order of service in which I had dedicated a poem to Mark, telling him why I wanted to be his bride and finally the letter I had written to him and left on his pillow the night before our wedding day, dedicating my undying love and devotion to him, making promises I fully intended to keep, yet realise I have fallen horribly short. Reading these things and remembering why I married him, why I love him and reminding myself of promises and commitments I made and haven't lived up to. That is where God comes in. Thank you Lord, for choosing a critical time like this, where everything could be falling apart and making me realise why and how I should be working harder at keeping it all together.

From Time to Thyme, things can happen.

Yesterday brought on an unexpected "Domestic Goddess" moment and I just had to share that from time to thyme these moments do happen. The kids really enjoyed getting their very own chicken pie pots. What the kitchen looked liked afterwards? hhmmm, nothing Goddessy about it!

Evil elves in my cupboard

It has come to my attention that there is either an evil group of tiny elves or tiny group of evil elves living in my cupboard. I haven't actually caught them physically so I can't tell you whether they are evil or tiny or both, but I know that they are there. I am not crazy, yes, I know you find that difficult to believe and from time to time I might appear a little off balance but crazy, no, not yet anyway.

To prove my point let me give you an example; yesterday morning AND this morning I dig in my cupboard for something a little more summery to wear as the dawn of Spring and Summer slowly arises and to my horror of horrors I discover that the clothes are smaller than they were last year! Can you believe it. These little buggers have basically spent most of the winter altering my summer clothes and have made almost every single one of them smaller.

Is that a snicker I hear? Please people this is no joke.

Obviously I cannot make them the same size that they were last summer and a new wardrobe is completely out of the question, so I guess I am going just have to try and lose a few pounds and fit into my newly altered attire. O.K, so getting rid of a few kilo's isn't necessarily a bad thing but jeez you evil little elves, you could have warned me.

Just the two of us

Madam Fluff drew this picture of the two of us and I just absolutely love it. It is very seldom that she really feels like sitting down and drawing so this beautiful and colourful work of art has found a warm fuzzy spot deep in my heart. Thank you Princess. I love you.

Could I have some Tomato Sauce with that please?

I must admit, I am a Tomato Sauce (ketchup) girl. I could pretty much add it to any meal before I would consider using another sauce. Macaroni cheese just isn't the same without a dash or rather a dollop of good old tomato sauce. I do however have to draw the line somewhere, I suppose, like today for example; we arrive home from school and fluff requests a peanut butter sandwich, no problem. As I am about to add the finishing touches to the gourmet sarmie, Fluff tells me to add tomato sauce.....huh?

"No, sweetie" I reply, holding down the urge to reflux right at that moment, "Peanut butter and tomato sauce just don't go together."

"O.K." she says, "Can you just put it on the side and I will dip the bread in?"

The urge to gag returns. " Caley girl, please, tomato sauce and peanut butter sarmies just don't go together."

Thank goodness, the conversation did end there and she sauntered off to munch on her lunch.

Although I am quite prepared to give any food item a reason to be enhanced by my favourite condiment, I'm not sure I am going to give this one a try. Excuse me, the urge to gag has returned again.