Overcoming Our Errors: An Open Letter To My Dad

Hi Dad, and Mum, and maybe a handful of other people who might be reading this,

What is an open letter?

A letter that you are writing to someone specific, but also to the world.

Why?

Because yesterday when I thought about writing it, I felt scared. And that's when I knew that I definitely had to do it. (Totally makes sense, right?)

I don't even know where to begin.

I'm not going to go into specifics.

I always told myself I wouldn't ever write a blog about our family stuff, it was something I would always keep to myself.

It was like the ONE THING that I would keep to myself, I am happy to talk about anything and everything else.

But I decided that I would write this, not as a scathing list of all the wrong things you've done to me, but as a sort-of honest declaration of things children don't often tell their parents (at least my brothers and I certainly haven't).

Dad, you have often scared a lot of my friends.

If I ask most people what their first impression of you is, they will say that you terrify them.

And to be honest, I think that's awesome.

I probably shouldn't think that, but I do.

And when I hear that I also terrify people upon first meeting me, I consider it a success.

South Africans are scary people!

We tell it like it is 100%.

We don't tiptoe around the subject or try to be politically correct.

Its just, BOOM! There it is.

It can be hard to take at times, even for me.

Growing up, you were terrifying at times, but I think I prefer that to the soft-spoken, teddy-bear, never-say-a-bad-word-or-dole-out-any-kind-of-discipline approach to parenting.

Yes, I got smacked with the belt a few times, but I don't think there's anything wrong with that.

I do appreciate that you disciplined me, but never as much as my brothers (haha sorry boys).

I got my fair share of chili powder which was also a good thing. Children should not be allowed to use filthy language. It's just not right.

Dad, I never saw the world through your perspective.

I didn't even consider the fact that you moved from your only home-country that you'd lived in your whole life and loved dearly to a completely new and scary place.

You sacrificed a lot.

More than I ever realised.

It must have been the hardest thing you'd ever done, coming to New Zealand all on your own to a strange northland town that didn't make any sense.

If it came down to it, I don't know if I'd be brave enough to do it.

I grew up in a safe and happy environment because of your sacrifice, so I'll say it here for once and for all: THANK YOU, PAPA.

We have had our disagreements (many of them), but you are not a bad person and I don't think badly of you.

I don't apologize for the letter I wrote you last year, but I DO apologize for not considering your side of the story when I aired all my grievances with you.

No one is perfect, not you nor myself, but we are made perfect in our weaknesses, by the grace of God.

Thank you for always listening when I would talk to you about my problems and for paying for everything as I was growing up.

Thank you for all the painkillers when the red visitor of doom would leave me bed-ridden, and for giving me antibiotics when the doctors in Dunedin diagnosed me wrong, AGAIN!

I am so blessed to have a doctor for a Dad, God must have known that I would need it and that's why he chose me to be your offspring.

Thank you for giving me every little thing that my heart desired as I was growing up, I realise now you probably shouldn't have done that (I'm certainly not doing it for my own children, they can deal with it) but it's done now!

I do appreciate everything. EVERYTHING!

You and Mum were not perfect parents, but you tried your very best.

No one can say you didn't.

And you spoilt us kids more than we deserved, so THANK YOU.

I could write a long list of all the things you did that disappointed me, but at the end of the day, what is the point?

The crux of the whole situation is this:

Yes, we all made mistakes in the past and treated each other worse than we should have, but it was all part of the process.

We also had a lot of good times, and in the end, we are all tied together by blood and by our love for each other and for the Lord.

You can't choose your family.

And looking back, I wouldn't change you as my Dad.

If anyone says anything bad about you, I am quick to shut them down.

You are not a Kiwi Dad, the kind of dad everyone else has, but you are my Dad.

And I'm proud to say I am your daughter.

I am sorry I don't have the same ambitions you do, I am happy to live a simple life.

But that's just what I've chosen for myself, and I hope you'll be okay with that.

I think the most important thing is that we live a life that God has called us to, always remembering to keep Him in the center.

I hope this letter finds you well, and anyone else reading this will consider their own relationships with their parents.

God bless you always and lots of love x

Daughter.

A Poem For My Guitar

My dearest Isabelle, you've come along so far,
I've taken you on planes with me and often in my car.
I was but nineteen when you were gifted to me,
The prettiest guitar that I had ever seen.

You didn't cost that much,  I'll admit it to be true,
But you were five times the price of my brother's one,  ooooh.
I learnt to play on that guitar I named Sid,
I remember the strings were so hard on my fingers and the guitar case was made of canvas and there was a pocket in the lid.

Sid was okay but I simply wanted more,
A guitar I could plug into an amp was what I longed for.
And could the strings possibly not make my hands bleed?
These were the questions I would not concede.

And then it all happened, my father said "YES!"
He'd buy me my own guitar,  at last! I'd impress.
When I played on this new guitar,  my skills, they would show.
The strings would be softer and my talent would grow.

Playing would be better,  and funner, I could see,
Sid was alright but Isabelle was The Queen.

When I took her home from Kaitaia's only music shop,
I loved her instantly and this love never stopped.

She's been down the country,  finally settling in the South,
She's played to tens,  and twentys, and even hundreds of crowds.

She is very special, if you can't already tell.
I love my guitar,  and she's done really well.

I wrote all my songs while using her charms,
We've played countless gigs,  her under my arms.

When I get this new guitar,  she won't be replaced,
It'll simply be a new addition to my musical space.

Thank you,  Isabelle, for all that you've done,
I hope I can teach my children how to pick and strum.

And then maybe when they are good enough,
I'll let them play on you,  Isabelle, but not before.  That'd be rough.
(I'll see if I can get hold of Sid for them to learn on,  my brother hasn't played him for over six years)

HAPPY SIX YEAR ANNIVERSARY MY BEAUTIFUL GUITAR!  X

The Struggle of Having Long Hair

So I've had long hair for as long as I can remember.


I think that my mum always wanted me to have long hair, or maybe it was because I told her I wanted it, I'm not entirely sure.


But I DO remember that as soon as I was able to grow hair, it grew. And grew and grew and grew.


I was telling Lyndon the other day about how up until I was about 11 or 12, my hair was reeeeeally long and my Mum had to brush it for me daily and put it in a long plait(braid) because that was the only way I could wear it that didn't result in endless tangles and knots.

When I was 11 or 12, I had to go on a school camp to Auckland and my mum wouldn't be there to tame my hair for me (I couldn't do it by myself, I didn't know how and it was just so long and hard to deal with) so I got most of it chopped off.

Honestly, my head sprung up the moment it was cut. Like there was this giant weight that was just taken away. It felt AMAZING! My head was so light and free!!!!!!!!!!

After that I kept my hair long-ish but learnt how to deal with it on my own.

It was definitely a learning experience.



I only cut it short once and that was in 2009 after I broke up my boyfriend at the time (so cliche).

I got a lot of compliments but realised I actually didn't like it that short.


Yes, it was easier to deal with, but it didn't look right.

Without the weight of the long hair weighing it all down, my hair kind of grew outwards and was really poofy and overly-voluminous.

This was not what I wanted.

So after that I decided I would never cut my hair very short ever again, but obviously a trim every 6 months or so was both necessary and good to keep the hair healthy.

Having had long hair for 20+ years, I feel that I know quite well the struggles that come along with it.


Yes, people say that your long hair is pretty a lot of the time, and say they wish they had hair as long as yours, but there are always negatives that come along with the positives.




These are some of the negatives.

1. It gets stuck in lots of things

Yup, you never realise how much your hair can get stuck in things until its happening. And trust me, the longer it gets, the worse this problem becomes.
Things I get my hair stuck in daily include:

My own armpits.

The car door/window

My husband's beard

Under my husband's arm

My guitar's strings

My clothing's zippers

Food

Branches/Trees

Nails/Screws

My engagement ring

My handbag



I could just end the blog here, but WAIT! There's more.

2. When it falls out, you (and everyone else) knows its yours

Guys who marry or move in with girls with long hair will know this.

One of our hairs is equal to at least ten, if not more, of the guys hair.


Lyndon finds my hair on almost all of his stuff.

His clothes, inside his work bag, in his beard, in HIS hair.


And it does get everywhere in the house, SORRY DEAR!

When I'm doing a good clean I usually rub my hand over the carpet where I normally brush my hair and pick up a huge ball of the stuff. You don't even want to SEE my hairbrush.


But Lyndon thinks its pretty so I guess we just have to deal with all the foreign strands everywhere (did I mention its all in my car as well?)

3. Washing is an ordeal

You know how people have the lame excuse: "Sorry I can't come out, I'm washing my hair" ???

Well this is a LEGIT reason for me.

It takes at least an hour to wash and blowdry (I have to wash my hair at night because I'm a night showerer)

I also use a crazy amount of shampoo and conditioner, luckily I only need to wash it every five days or so, otherwise I'd never have any time for anything else and I'd also be completely broke.

4. Only so many hairstyles

I struggle with this one the most I think. I get stressed out when my hair is down when I'm trying to do things, especially when I'm playing guitar, so I have had to find good hairstyles that both work for me and aren't going to hurt me later on.

When I wear my hair in a bun, or a ponytail, it usually starts pulling really badly and hurting my head eventually, so usually a plait or pinning some of my hair up is the best way to go.

Short hair is definitely easier to do different things to, but I'm trying to do some more experimental things every now and then (usually unsuccessfully)

5. Risk of looks like a Mormon/Religious Zealot/Brethren

This one is pretty self explanatory. When I see my mum after not seeing her for awhile, she usually comments on my hair and tells me its starting to look a bit like a Brethren woman.

I see where she is coming from. I do not suggest wearing your long hair straight down, unlayered, with ratty ends that go past your butt.

Its not the best look.

I try really hard to avoid this myself. It makes you look old and like you are maybe in a cult :-P

If you can make it work though then all the power to ya!

6. When it's hot- Beware!

Long hair is the worst in summer, as I mentioned before, there aren't a lot of hairstyles you can do with really long hair that aren't going to hurt your head.

Even a plait or wearing some of your hair pinned up won't help cool you down on a really hot day because the hair around your neck creates an insulated area of intense warmth that makes you feel all sweaty and gross and creates an uncomfortable dampness down your neck and back.

Trust me, I'd know.

Best thing you can do is pile all your hair on top of your head and tie that sucker up and hope for the best!!!

7. The stress of it getting into lots of things

Yes I have to tie up my hair everytime I eat a meal, and yes Lyndon does find hair in his mouth after we kiss sometimes, hahahaha........ I'M SORRY LYNDON! YOU THINK ITS PRETTY THOUGH!!!!!!!

The stress I feel when I'm trying to eat or play guitar is actually very serious though.

I have to, HAVE TO, have a hair-tie on my wrist at all times during my life UNLESS I'm showering or sleeping.

I also have a few spares in my bag, that's how important it is to me.

Trying to eat without my hair-tie is enough to make me want to punch a wall and run around screaming. Hair just droops over and into the food and its just so bad and I can't handle it.

My hair also gets stuck in my guitar strings if its not tied up and it impairs my vision. I can't see what I'm doing, the hair is everywhere, its like a blanket of hotness over my face that I can't get rid of.

I can't see, I can't breathe, its inescapable. 

The stress, THE STREEEEESSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!

But once you're able to tie it back, AAAAHHHHH. Sweet relief.

I can go on living.

At the end of the day, yes its a struggle, and a pretty funny one sometimes, but I love my long hair and I don't wish to cut it. At least not at the moment.

<3



Thanks for reading and I hope you've learnt something today, even if that's just that I'm a bit crazy (maybe its the long hair).

A Day In The Life

Hello blog,

I am writing this on my phone so this could end badly/there could be many spelling errors,  but let's see how we go.

My current daily schedule is quite different to what it's been in the past.

In order to preserve its memory,  I thought I would write it out.

I also hope that this might explain to my family and friends why I will never be contactable after 9pm in the evening.

So,  without further adieu, here is my daily routine. 

6AM
Alarm goes off

6-6.10AM
Try to convince self to get out of bed.
Harrass Lyndon to also get out of bed.

6.15AM
Finally get out of bed

6.15-6.20AM
Get dressed into work uniform

6.20AM
Make lunch.  Usually a bagel or a sandwich.

6.30AM
Make breakfast.  Usually yoghurt and muesli or porridge. Doesn't take much time at all.

6.40AM
Eat. Always takes longer than I think it will.

6.50ishAM
Brush teeth. Wash face. Put on "make up" (some mascara).
While I'm doing this Lyndon is already ready to leave so he gathers my things for me.

7AM
Depart house in automobile.

7.10AM
Arrive at Lyndon's place of work, he departs for the day.

7.15AM
Arrive at my place of work. I grab things I need from cafe and head over to Annex.

7.15AM-1.30PM
Work.

1.30PM-2.30ishPM
I close the Annex and then depart for home in automobile.

2.45PM
Arrive at home

If not too tired,  proceed to engage in following household tasks that are required for peace of mind:  Vacuuming, wash dishes,  put dry dishes away,  laundry, general tidying.

Once housework is completed,  sit on couch and either play dumb fashion game or watch TV

4PM
If Lyndon is working at Tomahawk, depart house in automobile to retrieve him.
If he's not,  continue to veg out on couch.

5PM
Lyndon is definitely home. Begin dinner now.

5-5.30PM
Cook dinner

5.30PM
Eat.

6-8PM
Watch television

8PM
Ready self for bed,  including having a shower and brushing teeth,  flossing etc

8.30PM
Quiet reading time in bed

8.45PM
Lights out.

And that is our average day.

When I look at it like that it's kinda sad and boring,  but on the weekends we tend to do fun activities or whatever.

Week days are a hard slog though.

At least it's only til December.

(EDIT: Turns out it was only til the END OF OCTOBER! YAAAAAAY)

I Once Was A Sassy Pants

I don't know what it is about August, but I always find it REALLY hard to motivate myself to blog.

But I am MAKING MYSELF do it now.

Phew. It's good.

It's good for me to write.

I have been thinking about topics I could potentially write about for the last few weeks, and I finally decided to talk a little about my childhood/growing up.

I have a pretty good memory, but a lot of my childhood isn't that clear in my mind anymore.

One thing I do know, I was a sassy pants.

The dictionary definition of sassy is:

lively, bold, and full of spirit; cheeky

As well as:

having or showing a rude lack of respect

Now, I am sorry to say, my sassy-ness was more like the second definition than the first.

I actually don't know how or why I became like this, I guess as an adult I can look back at it and maybe attribute it to Middle Child Syndrome. 

But I don't know.

I wasn't a very nice child/adolescent, even ask my cousin Emil.

He LOVES to tell the story about how I banned him and my other cousins from coming to my birthday party, but I think they came anyway.

Hahahaha.

I am a little worried that my kids might turn out like I did.

How do you stop your kids from being ruthless little hooligans?

I guess it has a lot to do with your upbringing.

I grew up in a household where I felt ignored (classic middle child)

Even though I probably wasn't really ignored that much, I FELT IT.

And I suppose my way of dealing with this was to try and control the people around me.

My family have told me, I was a little b****.

But I don't remember it.

When I try to think back to when I was young, I can see how I was demanding of my parents and wanted respect from everyone.

I wanted to be heard.

This would manifest in being rude and brash with people.

I wish I could go back and sit my child-version of myself down and talk through whatever issues I was facing.

I was confident, but also insecure.

Loud and bossy, but dealing with feelings of inadequacy.

I was rebellious and counter-cultural while also being a child-version of a popular mean girl.

It doesn't actually make any sense to me.

I think maybe, even like today, I was trying to be funny but it just came across as mean.

And my attempts at exploring my leadership capabilities turned into me bossing people around, belittling them, making them feel like they weren't allowed to defy me.

I am sorry for the way I was when I was younger.

It is hard to accept that I was like that.

I don't remember it. It's like it was wiped from my mind.

I don't think I was ever a bully. I never went out of my way to make anyone's life miserable, I think I was just misguided in how I treated my friends and classmates.

I didn't know how to express myself or voice my opinions without it coming out negatively.

For anyone reading this who knew me when I was an adolescent, I am very sorry for the way Young Martinette treated you.

I'm sure if I met her now I would be horrified and tell her to grow up and get a grip.

And then I'd speak to my parents (her parents) and tell them to talk to her about her behaviour.

Something did change though, eventually.

My thinking altered.

I believe it was Jesus. He helped me renew my mind and I saw things differently.

I forgot how mean I was and tried really hard to be different.

To be kind and caring and understanding.

That's the person I was when I left high school and moved to University.

The friends I made as an adult would, hopefully, say this is the Martinette they all know.

Obviously I'm not perfect and I still have my sassy moments, but I recognize immediately when I am behaving in a way that is not nice.

It's usually only with my dearest Husband when we are in the middle of a tiff and I'm quick to apologise.

I think I was quick to end friendships with those who knew me as a child because I didn't want to be reminded of the person I was.

It wasn't a deliberate thing, but I think once you've hurt someone, those wounds stay with them, and you, and it's hard to move past it.

I don't really have any friends that I made when I was a sassy pants.

It's probably for the best but it is quite sad.

Sometimes people still see you as the person you were.

It took a while for my parents to see me as this new, kinder person.

For a long time, they kept treating me like I was Sassy Martinette, so I would become her, because that's how they were treating me.

I was always at my worst, my most mean and demanding, when I was with my family, even after I had "changed".

Just goes to show that your expectations of someone can influence how they behave.

If you don't expect much, they will not be able to rise above your expectations of them.

I remember that my Dad used to tell me that everyone who knew me, especially my family, thought I was a b****. (This is while I was at high school, undergoing my "change").

Pretty hard to hear but at the same time, I didn't fully accept what he was saying.

I acknowledged that yes, I used to be a mean little girl, but that wasn't the case now.

It took a while for him to stop saying it.

Family stuff is hard, especially when personality changes are happening.

It's too easy to see people the way they have always been, rather than the person they are now.

With God's help, I hope to keep growing and maturing and becoming a more forgiving and kind person.

It isn't always easy.

Even in the last 12 months I have made decisions that now I look back on and think "Wow. That was not very good. I need to do that differently next time".

I hope I can raise my own kids to be the kind of children that I wasn't.

Kind, patient, forgiving, always thinking of others, accepting and loving.

I guess that's up to Lyndon and me though.

Thanks for reading! 

I hope I have given you something to think about / you've gotten something positive out of this blog post.

:-)

Confessions of a Newlywed

Today marks two years that Lyndon and I have been together!

I hope people aren't getting sick of me writing about weddings/marriages.

I was trying to think of something to write about earlier (my goal is to write AT LEAST once a month, but it's hard!) and all I could really think of writing about is what I know.

And what I know is what I'm going through at the moment.

And as you probably know, I am a newlywed.

Its funny because I get asked all the time how married life is.

You know how when you see someone you know, and you say hi to them and ask about something you know if happening in their life?

Well it feels like EVERYONE wants to know how married life is.

Which is cool!

And I love answering.

My favourite answer is: "Better than unmarried life!" And then I laugh, and usually the person I said it to laughs as well.

But the truth is, it IS a lot better than unmarried life.

Girlfriends of mine who are married or engaged totally agree with me, being engaged is not that great.

Being married is AWESOME!

When you are engaged as a Christian couple, there are lot of things you "can't do".

I put that in speech marks because obviously, you CAN DO them if you choose, but it's not the best idea.

Lyndon and I didn't live together before we were married, and if you refer to my most popular blog post ever: http://girlthateatschips.blogspot.co.nz/2015/03/why-i-waited-til-my-wedding-day.html, we didn't have naked fun times either. 

So getting married was a big step for us and made a lot of things acceptable.

We could sleep in the same bed.

 We could go away on trips together, just the two of us. 

We could live in our own house.

We could choose just to hang out by ourselves, together.

So as you can see, marriage is great and a lot better than just dating or being engaged.

There is more to it than that though.

Here are some things people have asked me and I thought it might be good to share with you:

How do I deal with sharing my space for the first time ever?

This one actually wasn't that hard to adjust to, even though I've never had to share a room ever in my life (my brothers had to but not me, thank goodness). 

I think when you love someone enough, you don't mind them being in your space.

Lyndon is the first person in my life that I don't mind being with all the time, that's how I knew he was 'the one'.

Sharing a bed was a little hard at first (I've never been good at sharing beds with anyone) but I soon grew accustomed to it and now I need Lyndon in the bed with me before I fall asleep or I get too cold. Funny how things change, huh?

Also, Lyndon and I found it helpful once we got back from Honeymoon to completely rearrange our new bedroom with equal amounts of both of our stuff. That way it didn't feel like one of us was moving in to the other persons space. It was OUR space now. :-)

Because you never lived together, have you been shocked by some of your husband's habits you didn't know about?

Actually no. There are no habits Lyndon has had while we've been married that he didn't have while we were dating/engaged.

People warned me that once I was married, Lyndon would bring out all these disgusting habits I didn't know about, but it didn't happen!

I am happy to say that I knew, almost 100%, the kind of person Lyndon was before we said "I do", and I have not been surprised by any behaviour of his post-wedding.

You don't have to live with someone to know who they are completely, you just have to spend enough time together and promote an environment of complete honesty.

I don't believe in the saying "Try before you buy" when it comes to couples living and sleeping together before marriage, it just isn't true. And you don't have to.

Do you fight more now that you live together?

I don't think so. Lyndon and I don't really fight much to begin with, we never really have. 

I get pissed off and have a go at him, he apologises and then we move on.

That's usually how it goes, and that hasn't changed at all since we've gotten married.

You know when you watch tv/movies and there's a couple and they are screaming at each other, throwing plates, kicking and screaming and punching walls? We've never had a fight like that.

I'm not into getting physical when I'm angry, and Lyndon is much too patient to retaliate. I wonder if we'll ever fight like that? Probably not.

When are you having kids?

Hahaha I love this question. Not for a few more years if we can help it :-)

No honeymoon baby for us! (sorry)

Are you sad your wedding is over?

Honestly no. I'm glad. Very very glad.

As I have explained in past blog entries, my wedding was a wonderful event, but also too much pressure to be able to fully enjoy, so I don't wish to ever repeat it. :-)

I look forward to sharing in the weddings of all our friends now, its much nicer being a guest at a wedding than the couple getting married! 

Now that you're married you don't need to see your friends as much, do you?

This is a myth! I hope my friends read this. Because for me, it just isn't true.

Yes, Lyndon is my best friend and I love that I get to see him everyday, but I also miss my other friends too. Especially my girlfriends. I like seeing them and talking with them about girly things that Lyndon doesn't have much interest in (and fair enough!)

It has been almost four months of marriage and I am trying really hard to balance my marriage, job, church, family and friends. (No room for exercise in there, sorry not sorry!) Hahaha.

I have gone down to part time hours at work because I wasn't coping and was just running on empty.

Things are better now.

But I want my friends to know this, and I really hope they read it:

You are still my friends and I want to be an active part in your lives.

Lyndon isn't the only person who matters.

Please keep me in the loop.

Let's hang out and have lunch or coffee or watch a movie or whatever.

I will make time for you.

:-)

I know that there are people out there who may have experienced people in their life who get married and then don't have much time for them anymore, and that's totally up to them and I'm not judging them in the slightest, but that's just not me.

I need my friends. Lyndon can't fill all the places in my heart where they all live.

He definitely has his place, and it's probably bigger than anyone else's, but that doesn't negate the fact that there ARE other places.

But anyway, I think I have rambled enough.

I hope I have made some sense and you have gotten something positive out of this.

It sure does make me feel better to write.

Hope you are all doing well and see you next month!

Thanks again for reading.

x