Scent of a Woman

It’s no secret that I love Keith and we have a good marriage built on solid foundation. It’s also no secret that he is the most infuriating person I know. A fact that’s hard to believe when you meet him in person because he is so cool calm and collected. But I promise you he does drive me insane at times. He is also the one person I trust with my life and the keeper of many of my secrets. My best friend.

This evening, when I went outside into the cold, I put on one of his thick jackets and got a not so faint fragrance of women’s perfume. Definitely not mine. It’s the kind that I steer far away from because it gives me headaches. None of the women who get close enough to him wears this kind of scent either. You know, maybe a family member or close friend who would lean in for a hug. At least I don’t think so. I rushed inside and took it off. Near miss with a possible headache.

He wasn’t home and I went about doing my thing. The more I washed dishes the more I wondered where the scent came from. He’s never given me reason to doubt him or his faithfulness so it was unwarranted. Yet… A little voice in the back of my head nagged “Yes that’s what all wives say” yada, yada, yada. In our marriage, like most marriages out there, we’ve settled into a “nice” and “boring” existence. We have a routine and hardly ever deviate from it.

When I say “nice” and “boring” I don’t mean there’s a lack of sparks. Anything but. We love with more intensity and on purpose. We laugh more and are already picking out stories to tell out grandkids. Boring simply means that we have settled into an easy and mostly uncomplicated life where fights are not worth going to bed angry for, where we’re ok with everything not being some adventure, a life where we’d much rather spend some time home with the kids instead of attending a get together, where taking naps on a Sunday afternoon is somewhat acceptable. By that standards I love boring and the use of the word “nice” is fine with me. Spontaneity and excitement can be overrated at times. I prefer my husband loving me in every moment, whether it’s during the mundane daily activities, as opposed to “date night” love or special occasion love. Boring dish-washing love is our thing for it’s in those moments we share together that I feel the love more than when we’re out watching a movie or having dinner at a restaurant. Although it is great going out as a couple.

While waiting on his return home I remembered the times he has stood up for women, held doors for them, treating them with respect and offering his jacket to women, besides me, on a few occasions. My husband is a gentleman and the type of man I want 1st K to be. Well maybe not completely, but he has a good example of what a man is supposed to be.

And just like that the mystery of the scent of a woman on his jacket is a closed case. Not something I’d bother asking him about but I’m definitely washing that jacket. The smell doesn’t do it for me. FYI my dishes are sparkling and thanks the woman who sent me on a brief cleaning/polishing trip πŸ™‚ I may just ask him when our next date is. I can live with some US time, then again it’s much too cold to be going anywhere now. I told you I’m boring.

Now I’m wondering what odd scent/thing will trigger my memory next and remind me of how blessed I am to be Keith’s wife… Really, sometimes I wonder about myself.


Winter Outfit Ideas #3


This week I opted for outfit ideas suitable for the office. I’ve never been much of a red fan but I suppose it’s because I never made time to find the ‘right’ shade of red for me. Two winters ago I found a perfect red, in the kiddies section of a store and have been wearing the same red coat since. This year is definitely time for an upgrade. The quality of kids clothes are not that great. I think manufacturers bank on kids growing, so quality is nor a big concern. Then again an upgrade depends on whether I happen to find one that is within my budget. If not then my kiddies one will have to do. I can pull it off for another winter, I think.

The dress in the second ensemble makes me want one in every colour including red. Guess I’m becoming a dress woman after all these years. πŸ™‚Β  I hate the cold but obviously won’t be wearing a dress to a braai, so it’ll work. Work, church or a night out does not call for dresses anymore but there is just something about wearing a dress and stockings and heels that makes me feel like a lady.

Hope you guys love these style-spirations as much as I do.

Have an awesome weekend.

Winter Outfit Ideas #2

“Dressing well is a form of good manners.” – Tom Ford

Here is my weekly style inspiration. Again, Pinterest inspired πŸ˜‰ Oh how I wish I could just walk into a local store and buy these as is without having to shop around. Since we have so many fantastic stores to choose from (and malls) I’m sure it wouldn’t be too difficult a task.

You’ll note that most of the outfits are relaxed. Items I would wear on weekends, during the week if I need to be somewhere or just have to get out of the house because of cabin fever. Whatever reason, I like to look good but in a casual kind of way.

Hope you like this weeks tidbit. In case you missed last weeks post start HERE. Happy weekend. πŸ™‚

Winter Outfit Ideas

Every year, since Pinterest, I consult various pins for style inspiration for the girls and I. My dress sense is of the minimalist nature and I opt for comfort instead keeping up with the season fashions. Although I must admit that I do buy into some fashionable items and trends. Wouldn’t want to be caught looking like my kids gran instead of their mom.

Finding the balance between looking (sort of) hip and not all together like a youngster, if you know what I mean, is kind of a big deal to me. Middle K is a pre teen so I can’t be walking around in fashions that is more suited for her than me. She wouldn’t allow me to in any case.

With all this in mind, I’ve got some ideas and will be mixing and matching what I do have and supplementing my wardrobe with the items I don’t. These are some of the pins I’ve sourced from Pinterest.

Hope you like this first installment of my little style segment.

Getting back to the basics of being ME

The past weekend the hubster and I had some alone time, while K3 were hundreds of miles away. This was one of those rare opportunities for us as a couple to just be a couple. Two days filled with promise.

Strangely enough, we didn’t make use of the time and set about doing what we normally do. Or at least most of the time. I caught up on some sleep, reading and writing while the hubster watched some sports. We were so engrossed with our own agendas that the other may not have been around at all. Time fled by and before we knew it, it was Sunday evening and we were eagerly awaiting the kids safe return. Truth be told, we have forgotten what it’s like to not have K3 around. For all their moaning and groaning there are also their clever quips and plenty of laughter. The littlest K is the funniest of them all. The first K is going through a sarcastic phase and often has me rolling my eyes. The middle K, well, like I always tell people, she’s a child that needs to be experienced. Cheeky, funny and all out dilly just like her mom. Except for the funny bit. I try, while she just gets it right. We missed them like crazy and without their antics we were somehow lost.

The idea of not hearing ‘Mommy’ was so much better than the reality. Make no mistake, I can live without them around every once in a while but I realised that my marriage has become kid centered. Our lives are so wrapped up with their activities that we have forgotten to nurture our marriage. Have we done anything majorly wrong? Nope. We just lost a little focus. Don’t get me wrong, we’re not in a bad state. We’re just… I don’t know… I suppose complacent is the most appropriate word.

This had me thinking all weekend. When the kids are all grown and they leave the nest, where does that leave us if we continue this way? Will we then live past each other and only see glimpses of the other every so often? The hubster is quiet by nature and I do most of the talking for the both of us, but what if I run out of things to say one day? Are we experiencing a drought in our marriage or was this a good wake up call?

With me being home these past few months, I don’t feel that I’ve lost myself at all. In fact I’ve been concentrating so hard on not being ‘just another’ Stay-At-Home-Mom. I’m still the outgoing person I’ve always been and get all dressed up even if it’s just to drop the kids off at school. I wear make up for the heck of it and I haven’t lost touch with reality. The only difference is that I don’t leave home for twelve hours on a daily basis.

Somehow it’s become clear the family’s perspective of me has changed. In a matter of months they’ve started taking me for granted and automatically expect me to be at their beck and call. When I’m not needed, I seem to be of no interest to any of them. I’m a mommy so I’m supposed to put my big girl panties on and deal with it right? Part of me says yes but the other part says NO way. I’ve decided to take my stand and stick with it.

I don’t want a comfortable marriage. I want the spontaneity we once had. The talks during the wee hours of the morning about nonsense. I want my family to be on the page we were last year where everyone pitched in and helped make this household run smoothly. I don’t expect my kids to do chores because I’m lazy. I expect them to do it so they may learn responsibility. I want my husband to start acting like we’re a team once more by doing his bit too. Just yesterday I had to remind him that I do actually still contribute to the finances in this household but it’s not in an employee capacity. Just because I work in the comfort of our home mostly does not negate the fact that I do work.

It cost some real alone time for me to figure out that my life is not where I want it to be. My marriage is not where I thought it would be. I find that in my quest to do good at this SAHM thing, I’m to blame for this messy state I find myself in. I gave up so much of myself that I didn’t realise it until it was almost too late. Contrary to what I believe, I have indeed lost myself and am not the person I was a year ago. I’ve become a slave for my family in the name of love, whilst juggling being an entrepreneur and doing ok at it. I have created the great expectations they have.

Today I realise that in order for the family to respect me, I will have to respect me (something I thought I had well covered) and that can only be done once I put my foot down and stop allowing them to “get away with murder”. Starting now, it’s time to take back ME and conquer the world (or Jonkersville at the very least). I doubt the fam will like what I have in store for them but that’s just tough. This momma ain’t going to be cleaning up after anyone for a long, long time. Except for doing washing. I love doing washing.

The one positive about alone time was that the hubster and I enjoyed long romantic walks this weekend… Long romantic walks to the fridge. No kids equals no cooking, so we grabbed whatever was in the fridge.

Getting Ready for The Weekend

My alarm, and my glutes, amongst other things is my kryptonite. Although I’m one of those annoyingly happy morning people, and I’m sure the hubster (who hates mornings) has been gagging me and plotting the murder of my happiness in his mind about a million times, 5am has never been my favorite time of day.

It’s Monday morning and I, along with most of our population, am still recovering from the weekend. The headache I just can’t seem to shake makes me wish I’d had a few drinks (of the alcoholic nature) just so it could be justified. Luckily I don’t have to commute to an office away from home and face an intimidating boss or annoying colleagues. My already made bed is beckoning for my attention. “Lead me not into temptation, I can get there myself!” I say, not sure if I’m really expecting my bed to reply and possibly sulk, trying to convince myself that I don’t need to curl up again or just trying to justify that getting back in would do me good.

Then it hits me… That ‘weekend off’ I always hear single moms talk about will be me this coming weekend. I’m 4 short sleeps away from being just married with no kids. K3 (my 3 kids whose names coincidentally all start with the letter K) will be visiting my sister in the West Coast. Alone. How cool is that? Not hearing that horrid word “Mommy” for a couple of days has the instant effect of Myprodol and Redbull. Head gone and full of energy.

I’m so stoked that I just stopped my maid duties and started packing their bags. This way I’ll be sure that everything is packed and ready for them to leave after school on Friday. At least this is what I tell myself in order to not feel too bad about wishing it’s Friday already. Hey who am I kidding? I love my kids to infinity and beyond and I love them even more when they’re sleeping πŸ˜‰ but TMO has never harmed any mom.

What a great start to my week and my day. Now I’m really wanting to send the hubster away too so I can be alone in the truest sense of the word. Hmmm… A girl can dream.

NB: Please note I have never taken a Myprodol with Redbull so I’d suggest you DO NOT try it at home. Can’t imagine that those 2 can be good together.

Mommyhood in Jonkersville

The only two certainties in life are death and taxes. I’ll add to that by saying that the one thing most moms are guilty of, is when they open their mouths their own mother comes out. The things they (mostly me) swore they would never say or do are the ‘crimes’ they (again, mostly me) commit on a daily basis. In case you’re wondering, YES, I too have given my son the infamous “I brought you into this world and I’ll take you out of it” speech. I don’t remember my mom ever using that one on my sisters and I so my usage of it is quite third rate.

There are plenty of self help books on the shelves and with too many resources it can be quite daunting to pick just one. The problem I have is the contradictions between the various advice you get from books. So much so that the aunthentication of motherhood for me and lots of other women stems to how we were raised as well as a few tried and tested methods we’ve seen in practice. Reading materials aside, I always thought that I’ll be an uber cool mom. In those daydreams I also envisioned cute girls with ribbons and not a hair out of place and a perfect gentleman of a son. They would have impeccable manners and speak with inside voices. My perfect kids would be bookworms and speak one language at a time with no Engli-Kaans babble in between. We would laugh and play and they would be excellent sports players with grades to match. Heck I even thought I’d be a PTA mom and have a seat on the school governing body. Reprimands would be of no concern and parenting would be plain sailing. You may think it naΓ―ve and you would be right. Thanks to father time and some seasoning of the real life variety, I have come to my senses.

Turns out that DNA and genetics have more than just family illnesses to pass on. Personality traits are of the few things I miscalculated and it comes from two sides. Double whammy. Only some of my dreams materialised and the rest have long since been revised. I’ve got three kids who each have more of my personality than I care and hoped for. Strongwilled and stubborn, to mention a couple. Though I am somewhat of a cool mom, I have more sergeant-major in me and my stripes are those silvery lines three pregnancies have left behind. FYI: If anyone ever tells you that you can tan stretch marks away, they’re lying!

My girls are two very spirited individuals. Taming their hair would be like teaching my 70+ year old gran about Twitter. A near impossible task. My son on the other hand is turning out to be the perfect gentleman but being a teen, his forgetful nature is quite trying. They happen to have good manners and when we’re in public it’s impeccable. The same could be said of me and my patience. The best place to fake it is in public. It’s not lost on me that they have learnt how to put on that facade. Thus far they excel at school and I’m an award winning mom. (Thank you Google)

Here is where the daydream ends. They don’t excel at sports. Obedience is selective. They don’t enjoy reading. (To a bookworm like me it is upsetting.) The girls cannot speak with inside voices even if I offer to pay them for it. Which I did a few times by the way. Engli-Kaans is one of the things we fight about constantly.

We all know that there is no instruction manual to raising kids and no amount of advice will ever help to get you through a lot of your sticky situations. Being a mom is not just about trading your manicures for short nails or loose hair for ponytails. I’ve seen those emails too… To me motherhood is about being flexible, adapting to your circumstances and constantly changing your game plan to stay abreast with new trends and threats. It’s about getting to know them and accepting them for who they are (with caution obviously) and unlocking the potential you see in them. They’re your responsibility but not your second chance to relive the life you didn’t live the first time around. It’s about allowing them to explore and guiding them (sometimes nudging them, by force) in the right direction.

All things considered, genetics and all, my kids and I seem to be ok. At least they’ve inherited recessive genes and most of the hubsters good qualities. They inspire me to do many things myself and I learn from them daily. Sometimes more than they learn from me because, let’s face it, I’m nothing but a child trapped in this adult body. Hopefully they don’t realise this bit of information anytime soon.

Two of the not so authentic things I usually tell (or more aptly, shout at) my kids that makes me want to hush my mom’s voice is:

– You WILL eat it and you WILL like it!
– I don’t care what the other kids are doing, you are my child and you’ll do as I say.

Try as I might I’m hooked on those two and it dates back to my own childhood. I guess it was effective enough for me to say it as naturally as breathing.

I’m no PTA mom but this year I’m going to run for a seat in the governing body. It’s a three year term and one I think I am ready for at this stage of my life. Yep, that dream hasn’t been scratched as yet. I guess you could wish me luck πŸ˜‰

Marital & Relationship advice: Are we too reliant on social/other media?

I’ll never forget reading “He’s just not that into you” during my first year of marriage and boy did my mind wander off to an obscure place. The more I read the more I thought to myself, “Self, why did you not read this a year ago?” I was convinced that my husband wasn’t that into me anymore and we probably would not have married if I’d read this sooner. By that time, my husband had already fallen into the ‘married’ trap and the guy I’d dated was long gone. We were adjusting to being a unity and our thoughts of what marriage should be like differed on a few levels.

My idea of the married trap is simply this:
A lot men, regardless of their age, somehow expects their wives to cater to their every whim and be at their beck and call. It may be illustrated in different ways but it comes down to the same thing. They somehow think that romance is not needed anymore and wives become ‘just the woman he married’ instead of the girl he fell inlove with.

The faults I found in our seedling marriage were escalated because of my hyper sensitivity to any and every move the hubster made or not. Saying that I was paranoid is a tad far fetched so I’ll settle for me in pms mode. Mind you I have yet to feel what the honeymoon phase everyone experience during their first year of marriage feels like.

For me it was getting to know the real guy that triggered alerts. The guy left his coffee mug wherever he last used it, thought that he could come and go as he pleased, tested my limits and half expected me to pick up after him. In all fairness he didn’t expect me to cook because I couldn’t at that time. We lost most of our dishes and cutlery during that year because I took a stand the best way I knew how and tossed the dirty ones (piled up) a few times. Was very effective I must say. *grinning at that memory* His wallet didn’t agree though but I didn’t care then and the me today still doesn’t. By now I’m guessing you can tell why I wanted to opt out during that first year.

Lately I’ve been seeing plenty of marriage posts on social media and realize that marriage and the care thereof has become all the rage. I’ve read some of those posts (well maybe all I came across) and sometimes I think it’s all just fluff. Don’t get me wrong though. It’s nice words and makes a whole lot of sense, even to me. What I don’t get is why the writers don’t back it up with some personal experience. I mean really now, a few nice words here, a few tips and advice there does not make for a better marriage. Can we identify with a specific problem and find our solutions in those words? Do we action any of that advice? Do you even know the writers history or why they chose to write that specific piece?

Let me explain the last question with a few follow up questions. Does the writer have a successful marriage? How did they overcome a specific battle/obstacle? Is their situation exactly the same as the one you’re currently faced with? Is your spouse exactly like the writer’s spouse? What happened to everyone being unique?

There’s nothing like a self help book or inspirational blog to give you a new zest for life. It inspires us yet we are disillusioned to thinking that if we follow a few steps and guidelines everything will fall into place. You can challenge me about this afterwards but what I’ve learnt over the years is that we should not settle for advice from just anyone.
We are too quick to fall for beautiful words that makes us feel good. I’m guilty of it too at times.

My take is that a married couple should essentially grab advice from another married couple. Singles from other singles. Divorcees from other divorcees. Now, you may argue this point but before you do, think about it. If you’re married and going through a bad patch are you going to accept advice from a single person who’s never been married at all? What about if you’re divorced are you going to accept advice from your happily married friend? Point is that it takes someone who can truly identify with your situation to be able to help you. The advice may not be great and you do have a choice on whether to follow it or not but having an ally is the best medicine to whatever problem you may face.

I’m not saying that we should wear our hearts on our sleeves and tell everyone we come across about our problems. I’m also not saying that you can’t confide in a close friend or relative who does not happen to be in the same boat as ours.What I am saying is that before you go out and seek advice or accept someone else’s words just because they have laced it with beautiful catch phrases. Read. Pause. Think. And consider if those words are actually for you. The quote: “I’m responsible for what I say and you’re responsible for the way you interpret it.” comes to mind. How often do we get lost in translation? It is a fact that every person who reads a specific article will have different interpretations of it. But what does the writer actually want you to know? You might find that the person you should be talking to is your spouse. Clear communication on all levels is mostly the component most relationship lacks.

Admittedly it took the hubster and I years before we discovered this. Majority of our problems we face today can usually be solved by earplugs for him and duct tape for my mouth. I blame my raging tongue on my love for pasta that has (over the years) given me some Italian lineage (or so I’d like to think). The lack of communication no longer is a threat to our marriage but because men have selective hearing the hubster is never off the hook. We are a work in progress.

I never got to finish that book in 2006/2007. The hubster made sure of it. A while back I did however and I commend the authors on a well written book even though it’s not applicable to me. Yep it took me a while to get this. A good thing I didn’t finish it back then. We often lie to ourselves and our friends without even realizing it. I firmly believe in those exceptions and rules. If a guy said he’d call and he doesn’t then he’s really not that into you. Don’t try to overthink or analyze it. In relationships there should be no If’s , But’s or Maybe’s. It’s yay or nay. As simple as that. I quite like the movie too and will watch it over and over but I’d suggest you read the book when you have time.

All that said, my marriage is a good one. I wouldn’t trade that first year, nor any other year, for anything else. It’s made for some interesting stories to tell our grandkids one day. Sure there are times I consider implementing the “Till death” part myself but I don’t think I’m cut out for prison just yet. Besides, I pride myself on making educated decisions and right now I’m not quite educated about the colour scheme of prison wear so it’s a no-no from a fashion perspective. Irking him seems like a better plan for revenge.

As always, all thoughts and comments are welcome. I’d like to know what influences other marriages out there and what impact do those marriage posts have on your own marriage. Of course I’d like some input from everyone married or not. Especially about the half truths we tell our friends to make them feel better when we really do know better.

PS: My idea of the married trap is not based on events of how the hubster treats or treated me but it’s the general complaint I’ve gotten from married women.

New me on the loose

Pre marriage I vowed to not become one of those women who become all consumed with their husband and kids. Never to wear bloomers (especially beige ones) or cross your heart bras, talk about which detergent makes whites whiter and colours brighter. I would be a cool mom who kept up with the latest trends and music. I would not get together with my married friends and complain how tough marriage is or how my husband would leave the toilet seat up. Along with that and a whole few other not-to items on my list, I promised myself that I would be one of those ‘growing-old-gracefully’ type of women who still wore fashionable clothing and takes care of herself.

Yesterday we had impromptu visitors and I whipped up some cupcakes in a flash. The ganache topping didn’t quite turn out the way it’s supposed to but our guests enjoyed it. The realization that I’m fast turning into those real homey mommy-ish wife types came crashing down like a ton of bricks. The kind who is always ready for action and can turn nothing into something at a moments notice. Some type of Brady bunch woman.

I spent some time lying awake last night wondering if it’s a good or bad thing. Do other women my age do this as well? Am I losing myself to this woman staring back at me from the mirror? These days I wear more skirts and dresses, hardly wear make up, swopped my heels for sensible shoes and the idea of a late night doesn’t appeal to me as much as it did a decade ago. In fact I need to mentally prepare myself for outings at night. As maturity crept in and I evolved (without notice) I slowly started drawing lines through most of the items on the ‘not-to’ list (also without notice). Am I finally becoming a grown up? These were the thoughts that kept me awake most of the night.

At 5am this morning I realized how the silly girl in my head got all worked up for nothing and the lost zzz’s is so not worth it. As I sit and recall my thoughts of last night and take it for what it is. Fear. The fear of losing myself and my individuality. That list never had anything to do with marriage or kids. It was all about me and the person I am and want to be. Truth is I don’t want to just be ‘His’ wife and ‘Their’ mom. I want to be ME while being the best wife and mom I can be. I can only be great at other things when I’m being true to myself.

As I got dressed this morning I smiled because I will never be able to wear cross your heart bras unless they design a range for flat chested women. Bloomers are still a no-no. I wear dresses, no make up, flat shoes is because I’m more confident in my thirties than I was a decade ago. I don’t need the trimmings most days. I love having guests and entertaining so I go the extra mile to welcome anyone who comes around. As for my conversations about washing powder… It beats talking about the weather any day. The me today is an enhanced version of the girl I once was yet I keep her entertained in my head to remind me not to lose focus and be consumed with this adult business. I’ve become the woman I’d like my girls to be one day. No pressure obviously.

Keeping up with trends and especially music is not negotiable on any level for two reasons.
1) I need to make sure that my girls grow up with good self images and dress modestly regardless of fashion trends.
2) The music with the cool beats often have trashy lyrics. I’m no prude but listening to men defiling women and women delighting in it is disturbing. It is for this reason I need to censor what the listen to. Thankfully those artists manage to turn my kids off when they see the music videos. It makes me proud that my kids are starting to discern on their own now too.

When I do get together with my friends we laugh at all the funnies and mistakes we make while trying to figure things out. While it is sometimes tempting to complain about husbands, we have this unspoken rule where we only speak positivity into our lives and that of our families.

I don’t look great everyday and I won’t even try to justify it. Sometimes I simply don’t feel like it. Home is after all tthe place I can look ugly and enjoy it right. But I do wear heels when I do some tedious task like ironing or clean the house. Or I apply make up when the mood strikes even when I’m home and wearing a shorts and t-shirt. There’s got to be some grace in that, I should hope. Then again there is still time to work on that. Time doesn’t stand still and I’m growing older every second.

So that’s my story for now. I wish for a good nights sleep tonight and that my curiosity over what other women my age do does not keep me awake.

I’d still like to know though… Do they really just embrace growing older? Do they lose themselves overnight or is it a string of occurrences and experience that leads up to it? Am I the only one that’s being silly about ageing and maturing? Or am I just over thinking this as much as I do other things?

Learning to drive

At this day and age it’s a bit outdated for a woman to not be able to drive. Women need to have their independence and having a driver’s license is a sure way to achieve that. At least that’s what almost everyone has been telling me for the past few years or so.

Problem is that it never really interested me that much and I always have a driver available to take me where I need to be. As I told a potential driving instructor last year, the hubster is the real reason why I don’t have my license yet. He is such a patient man and doesn’t mind carting me around wherever I need to be and if he’s not around I always have plan B (who’s name is dad) and plans C and D (my sisters).

What I never really cared to admit to people freely is my fear of accidents. I’ve been in many a minor accident caused by negligent drivers. Luckily it’s never been the drivers of the cars carting me around and I’m blessed that I’ve never sustained any physical injuries. That doesn’t mean that I don’t bear emotional scars.

Turns out all I needed was a little motivation that had nothing to do with immediate needs and all the what if’s that may happen if I didn’t have a license. So a few months ago I bought my first car and I finally decided to get into gear and learn to drive.

I honestly thought that I’d be a natural and drive from the word go seeing as though I’m a fast learner. I’ve heard many people say how easy it is to drive. None of them told me how difficult and positively nerve wrecking it actually is. Not to mention the concentration and co-ordination it requires. At the rate I’m learning, I think that those veteran drivers probably forgot how difficult it was to learn to drive for the first time.

I’ve made my start and as difficult it was initially, I can finally drive. Yay me! It’s a bit of a slow progress. The observations are killing me but I’m getting there. It’s invaded my subconscious too and I am checking mirror, mirror, blindspot, mirror in my dreams too. I even say it out loud when I drive too and it annoys the hubster no end.

When people advised me to let my husband teach me I used to laugh and say that we’d drive straight to the divorce courts. In real life it’s actually the most fun we’ve had in ages. We get some alone time and can laugh at my blips. Men love the opportunity to teach their wives some things, so his ego is getting some major strokes at my expense.

Just the other day a drunk driver nearly drove straight into me and my reflex action was brilliant. Not blowing my own horn here, staying alive was the order of the day. I’m proud to say that there’s not a single scratch on my car. The near miss had me in a tizz and I almost gave up on driving. My biggest fear surfaced that Saturday. I refused to drive any further and held up traffic while I got out the driver’s seat and let the hubster drive us home.

If I thought that he’d go easy on me that day, I was in a for a big surprise. He made me calm down a bit and demanded I drive again. “The best way to conquer your fear is to get behind that wheel again and drive”. I couldn’t believe my ears but like a good wife I obeyed my husband and took another drive.

I’m still nervous when I get behind the wheel but what that Saturday taught me was that no matter how crappy the next person drives, I have control over the vehicle I drive and that is something I should use to my advantage. After all, K53 is all about responsible driving and the safety of yourself and other road users. I still think that people need to start acting more responsibly on the road but hey I’m sure they’ll see the light someday. Hopefully not the ambulance lights.

Right now driving is about conquering my fear and getting my license. I can’t recall taking this long to learn and perfect anything ever. My kids are still deciding if the glass is half full where my driving is concerned, but hey it will give me more time to slip them when I get my license one of these days.