$$$ issues

I had kinda gone MIA there simply coz I just didn’t feel like writing, nothing was stimulating me enough to want to get down to a post. And its amazing that what I usually find annoying is what triggered me to finally sit down and write. As a rule I am not a big fan of people sending forwards to my email, I don’t care how funny they are or how tragic and sad they sound, I just don’t like forwards, period. I can count on one hand the number of times that I actually read one before deleting it and even fewer times, me deciding to forward it to someone else. But then this one caught my eye, I don’t know whether it was the title, (which spoke about what women want) or if it was the fact that the first thing I saw when I opened it was the glorious hair and beautiful face that belongs to Robert Patterson (someone help hold down my cougar instincts!) anyway this whole paragraph is irrelevant to my post by the way, I just sort of enjoyed making a grand entrance and doing an intro.

The subject of discussion is one that has been done several times over, even a number of times here on blogville, but what the heck. It concerns the grand issue of men providing for their women. And I shall put a disclaimer here and say this post refers specifically to married men providing for their lawful wives (this rules out small houses for the avoidance of doubt). Now we all know that even the bible has placed men in the unenviable noble task of providing for the family as the head of the house hold, fair and fine. I have no problems with that, hell show me a girl who doesn’t want to be spoilt and pampered and I will show you a blatant outright liar. Where is the problem then you ask? One of my favorite adages is that, culture, and indeed society is dynamic. Therefore one shouldn’t feel obliged to be stuck in the dark ages where a wife’s lifelong ambition was to always thank her hardworking husband for the pair of knickers that he bought her. I think we have reached a stage where any hardworking, professional assertive woman, will graciously accept a gift from her man, but not because she cant afford it herself. I am not by any long shot a feminist ( though I am still trying to figure out why that word always evokes such negative energy from people) but I do subscribe to the motto that what a man can do a woman can do even better. So yes, I will let dear hubby buy me anything, from a pair of diamond earrings, a blackberry, a set of wheels, but not because my fine self cant cough up the dough. Simply because he is my man, and he is allowed to show me how much I mean to him by spending some cash.

P/s I am not saying the world is now rid of the Khanyi Mbau’s and the Anna Nicole Smith, but that’s a topic for another day.

The elusive "one"

A discussion with my bestie last night planted some thoughts into my head and made me ponder over the remarkable issue of meeting "the one". Of course, watching Eclipse just before bed also made me wake up with all sorts of wonderings about life partners vis the Bella-Edward-Jacob triangle. what i am thinking is, first of all, the age old question, is there a single "one" person, soulmate, love of your life kinda person that you will ever meet in life, or is it possible that you can meet a few people and still love them intensely and whole-heartedly in a lifetime? unfortunately i am not sure i have an answer to that, it still baffles me. but for argument's sake, lets say that there is "the one", how do you know when you meet them?

I am certain its more than just a cliched catching of the eye across a crowded room, it even goes beyond butterflies or heated passion. there has to be a more unfathomable (my thats a big word) connection that is stronger than anything that could break you. you have to be able to be FULLY yourself with that person, no pretense, no trying to impress. you have to understand each other on all levels, the term i used to use when i was younger was "with your hearts beating to one rhythm" well figuratively speaking at least. You have to be able to look at that person and tell them the silliest things that get into your head, your deepest fears, your fantasies, your dreams and everything about you and know that it is safe with them.

before i start sounding like a hallmark card, i just think there is an internal radar that pulls you to that person, sometimes against your will, sometimes when it doesnt make sense. I am not sure in reality it would be the same as sacrificing your soul for that person (Bella) but it has to be somewhere up there.

i am not sure i will ever be able to define "the one" but i am a hopeless romantic, i am pretty certain the concept exists!

Who am i

I was avidly stalking several blogs last night and if anyone has done that they know that once you start, you cant stop. Each blog links you to another and the cycle goes on and on. Anyway the point is I got exposed to so many people’s thoughts such that I swear by the time I finished I had their voices buzzing in my head, all at the same time. (((creepy))) And in a way it made me start to wonder what my own thoughts were, on several things, life, relationships, fashion, traveling, movies, music, EVERYTHING. But I thought before I overwhelm myself, I decided to take a leaf (or is it an icon) from my girl Kookie’s (page) and write about who I am.

For a while I rode on the waves of what I thought people thought I was (does that make sense?) as in I let people’s expectations of me determine my behavior and my judgment. I was molded on my perceived opinion of people on me. As much as I love my folks, I just think they worked too hard to make me a model child. Don’t get me wrong, I am grateful coz it kept me out of a lot of trouble that I am better off without but at the same time, I wish I had made some of my own mistakes. So for the better part of my growing up I lived into that mould, I was always too afraid to step out of the line, I never developed wings for adventure. I had an iron clad conscience that made sure I was never tempted to bend the rules (pathetic I know we are not even taking breaking them here, just bending)

So now I am in my late twenties, and finally it dawns on me that I am my own person. That I can make decision for my own gratification and worry about the consequences later. I have the power to make my own mistakes, and learn from them and move on. I have the ability to know what’s good for me and what is not and still go ahead and do either. I have learnt which relationships are important and which ones to discard and never look back. And all that has made me into a confident, self assured person. It has made me face the world with a headstrong determination that after all is said and done; I can only be who I am and noone else. And most importantly I know better now, I will not bring my son up to be who I grew up as, with the crippling fear of the unknown which resulted me in never learning how to ride a bike, or how to swim. I shall teach him to seize life by the horns, and find who he really is, all on his own.

I can say now at the ripe, mature age of 27, I finally know who I am.

Untitled

So when we meet, pretend you are doing fine
Pretend that your heart is not broken
Smile and hold your head high
And pretend you are not about to crumble
And that your arms are not aching to hold me
Because that’s what I will do.

So when you see me, pretend I am just another girl
A person you are meeting on the street
Say hi and ask how I am doing
But don’t expect me to tell you the truth
Just nod at whatever I tell you
That I am fabulous and doing great
Though we both know that’s far from the truth.

So when we sit together
Pretend my presence doesn’t affect you
And act like you don’t miss kissing me
And that hearing my voice is just one of these things
Act like the moments we shared didn’t mean that much
For my sake, please do that
As that’s the only way we will get through this

short randomness

I just realized that I am reluctant to visit the dentist. Now this ordinarily would not make headline news, but you see my reason for reluctance is not the usual, fear of pain or whatever. But for me the reluctance is akin to the one I have to visit the gynae. There is something about having someone poking in there, judging me about my hygienic tendencies and possibly seeing who what I had done with my mouth. Its just disconcerting that’s all, there I have said it.

Hi name is Enchante, I am mum to a Cbeebaholic

A friend of mine recently asked why I never blog about my baby, and my response was that this blog is really about me and mostly me, so I never get the others roped in. but today I just had to write a post about this incredible, three and a half year old, 95cm tall living organism crammed full of energy who I happened to carry in my womb for all of 38 weeks, amazing. I always marvel at how God chose me to assist Him in bringing forth this amazing little creature. Anyway one of its characteristics is that, at 630 am, before I am even fully awake, it is at my door asking for “something”. Now this is not some code from the planet that they must come from, it is simply a way of telling me that wake up and give me some candy. Now before y’all go off at me about bad parenting, I do not actually give out any candy (most days) but this was just to demonstrate that when you are all waking up busy thinking about your day ahead, my little man just has one thing on his mind, candy.

Now the most interesting characteristic of the marvelous specie is that, at 7pm when you are anxious to watch Prime time News, he has the remote firmly clutched in his hand and declaring that we are all going to watch cartoons. Now if we are all to be honest, there is a little child inside of every one of us which never grew up and secretly enjoys watching Scooby Doo, Looney Toons etc (for old times sake we say), so naturally cartoons at 7pm would not be a catastrophe (most days). In fact I am quite a big fan of Disney Channel and I am not ashamed to say it. However, the challenge we are faced with is my little warrior is particular about the choice of cartoon channel, it has to be the British Children’s channel Cbeebees. Now anyone who has a child, or niece/nephew, cousin or friend’s child, who has had the unfortunate chance to sit through a programme on Cbeebees will know that it is SPECIFICALLY designed for ages 10 and under. In fact it should come with a strong restrictive warning about the age limit. So the little man loves it, singing along to the tunes, jumping up and down and imitating whatever they will be doing. I have to give it some credit though, it has vastly improved his language skills, and its like a revision class for his numbers, shapes, colors etc when he comes from school. However it is absolute torture for any parent to sit through it. so because of all the trauma that parents out there must be going through, I think its only proper that we form a support group and help each other through the worst years.

Hi I am Enchante, I am mum to a Cbeebaholic…….

somebody is in trouble

Somebody is in trouble

thoughts wander and the heart races.
Excitement, giggles like a 14 year old
Its madness, sheer utter madness.
I wake up excited and look forward to the day starting.
I smile to myself as I count the minutes til I can get to that magical place.
A place where just for that moment I can forget who it is I am,
I can forget what it is I have to account for
I can just be…exist…live…float.
I laugh. I smile; I even get some thrilling shivers once in a while.
Its exciting, exhilarating, rejuvenating.

I speak, I tell, I verbalize, I express.
I hear, I listen, I comprehend and sometimes miscomprehend
its part of the charm, the magic, the enchantment.
Its novel, its new, and it shall soon pass I am sure of it.
Once the euphoria is over what will remain is solid, grounded, meaningful.
But while its here I shall enjoy the foolishness of it.

No I am not newly in love, far from it.
I fell in love a while back and I am still very much in love.
I have just been made to feel 16 again,
when crushes I had but dropped them just as fast.

©Enchante