Big Son: "Hi Bella, can I have a hug?"4yr old Bella: "No."Big Son: "Pleease?"Bella: "Give me fifty cents and I hug you."Big Son ( aghast): "What!?"I am somewhat troubled by my 4yr old's willingness to exchange affection for cash...BUT I am impressed with her entrepeneurial spirit. It got me thinking about a similar little girl… Continue reading "Sell me Your Bed"
He doesn't love me! This is what my mind, heart and soul were screaming when me and the Hot Man moved into our first apartment. Because he didn't lock all the doors, check all the windows and turn on the outside light. No. Instead he just got into bed and went to sleep. What the… Continue reading He Doesn’t Love Me!
The Hot Man and I are enjoying a peaceful moment.(Translation, the kids are all playing Xbox and we are ignoring the shouting and arguing.)Such tranquil 'alone' moments are rare and I must cherish them. I ask, "What are you thinking about?" (awaiting his deep thoughts) "Nothing.""What do you mean nothing? Come on, what are you… Continue reading What Makes Men and Women Different? Nothing.
The world can be a very small place when you're Samoan. The extended family is key in our culture. So no matter where you go, you can be sure that you will stumble across someone who you're vaguely related to. Who knows your parents. Your aunty. Who went to school with your cousins. Who comes… Continue reading Samoans. We’re everywhere.
I am not happy. Today I was a super-wonderful wife and mother because along with general cleaning and other domestic duties - I cooked an amazing dinner. Creamy chicken rice casserole with mushrooms and for dessert, toffee date pudding.(otherwise known as Sticky Date pudding.) Its HRH's favourite and we always used to have it when… Continue reading Its getting a little sticky around here.
Today i caught the Princess crying in her room. Why? Because her big sister told her she was fat. And that the dress she was wearing for church was really ugly. Huh?!After severely straining my UN Peacekeeper skills - i was able to successfully soothe the conflict and heal the troubled waters. But the spat… Continue reading Sisters
When I was nine years old, my little sister tried to kill me. She chased after me with the breadknife, the serrated one perfect for cutting hunks of steaming hot bread. Screaming, “Im going to kill you, I hate you, I hate you!” I locked myself in the bathroom and yelled back at her. “You… Continue reading I Kill You!