Handy tips

I went on a hike yesterday. A group of us get together on a Friday morning and we properly hike, like up mountains, ravines, peaks. It takes me way out of my comfort zone, sometimes the hikes are long and arduous but I stick to our weekly plan (mostly) because this is a group of women whom I adore. We call ourselves the mountain goats, yes goats because we climb, but also goats because we are the greatest of all time. For real.

We laugh, we support, we listen, we advise, we take interest, we commiserate, we have fun. I am completely and utterly myself. I’m goofy and silly and I never feel judged. It’s taken me this long to be with a group of women that I feel I can be me. We are not in competition with each other, we are honest and sincere and we appreciate each other. At the same time finding each other hilariously funny.

Now I might get into a bit of trouble here because I do have a swimming group (see cold water swims) and I adore them too, a ballet rip group (another great bunch of ladies), a Flashdance group (another story, but let’s call them the A graders because I’m in awe of their collective talent), an informal coffee group and a family group which involves my mother and my sisters.

My father isn’t included in these chats because they are mainly about the Royal family, an actor/singer who’s just died, some cousin’s friend that we bumped into, gynae checkups, a sentimental poem we read, an old boyfriend we happened to find out about, that sort of thing.

When we are young, girls see each other in a competitive light, we are often threatened by each other. As we get older and we find our friendship groups, we begin a kinship that runs deep, we understand each other and what it means to juggle life as a woman. We have marriages, some that work, some that don’t, channeling all of that, raising children, juggling a career, holding onto our identity, managing a home. We just keep doing the best we can.

Of course that’s not to say that men do a wonderful job too!

One funny story to leave on. At the beginning of our marriage, my husband would sometimes come home late. I was at home with the boys feeling useless and irritated whilst he was having fun, or so it seemed. So on the mornings after, as he was getting ready for work, I would think of something I could do to get back at him. Immature yes, but necessary.

I’d hide his glasses.

Have you seen my glasses??? he'd frantically ask rushing to get out the door.

Not batting an eyelid, I'd reply,

Nope.

Where could my glasses be??

Again, my face dead pan,

No idea.

Only later, after a long day at work, the glasses would miraculously reappear.

Little wins for me.

I passed this story on to my friends in the hope that this might come in handy one day.

Handy tips for women dealing with misbehaving husbands.

Somebody said something funny