Catch me if you can!

I'm a little sad that no one could answer the questions in my previous post. I have so much more I could ask here but, since I have had no responses so far, and I am not in the mood to become irritating, I will drop it. For now.

So, I feel like blogging! Maybe I just feel like writing. On either point I have nothing of value to say so, if you don't suffer fools gladly sign off now.

I have realised that I was wrong. (Ha! That caught your eye, you'll read on just a little now, won't ya!) OK yes, I admit it! Once in a while I can be wrong! I defied the experts (mothers with grown up children) who said that it is virtually impossible to be a working Mum, (even from home, part time) and consistently keep up any form of exercise that requires you to leave the house for any length of time! Well I proved them wrong... for a while... and was feeling very smug about it too! I was running 3 or 4 times a week, for about 6 months, getting out, getting fit, still fitting in my work and my kids and I was loving it. It was summer and the daylight hung around giving me plenty of time in the evenings when Sean got home after kids were fed and bathed to venture out and stretch my legs! It's winter now. It's bloody dark by 5 and, being that I live in the relative danger of South Africa, I can hardly go running after dark now, can I! So now I am sulking. Not only was I wrong about the whole time to exercise thing, I am now feeling rather unfit and flabby again!

But!

Sean has assembled the gym in the garage and my trusty rebounder stands alongside. Perfect in home exercise equipment. Must be time for that. I don't have to leave the house. Well, we shall see, lack of time might be just one excuse better than 'I'm too bloody cold to get changed!' And it doesn't help that my house is at least 3 degrees colder than outside!

I know, don't complain about the weather, there's nothing you can do about it! Well, I never complain when it is warm, or hot. Stifling doesn't get a moan out of me. But cold! It changes me. It clamps down on my mind and no amount of positive personal pep talking can budge it. At least in England there is central heating indoors. And Suzi, bless her, has a roaring log fire melting the frosty claws that dare to force their way through her windows and doors.

I am unprepared for the cold. That may be my only problem. For now I can't change that. I feel a little rebelious.

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

You know when you get the feeling someone is trying to tell you something? When certain 'reminders' crop up here, there and every where? Everywhere you turn the same message is written on the wall? Well, that's been happening to me for about 2 months now! It happened here where Expatmum had me in stitches with her take on the Good Wife Guide from the 1950s, as well as in numerous conversations, FWD: emails, on the radio. Everywhere. It all indicates what I am supposed to be doing but not why or how! And let's face it, I've never been good at blindly following rules!

I am a modern woman. Can't help it really, it's just part of who I am and I have recently, for whatever reason, been continually reminded that I am supposed to put my husband first as he is head of the household. Really? Is that still true? What of equal partnerships, women being as important as men and respect for each other?

Now, I have no problem with respecting my husband, I take no umbridge with the role I play in our relationship, I have no issue with seeing his point of view. But surely he must equally see mine? Have equal respect for me, accept and fulfil his role in our relationship? Is the MAN as head of the house not a little archeaic? OK, I am going to bore you now by saying that I am lucky in that the man I married does not see himself as head of our household. He seems to ascribe to my version of coupledom. We are a team. We make decisions together. If our points of view differ we discuss it (sometimes rather loudly, if I am honest) and we choose the RIGHT option in the end. Not mine. Not his. He plays his role and I play mine. If we both tried to do the same thing half the necessary work would be left unattended. If we both tried to do all of it we would suffer nervous breakdowns. We defined our roles and now we fulfil them. Is this not a healthier way of building a marriage? And as far as I am concerned the children come first. For both of us.

Where does it say that a man is superior? Where does it say that a man has better judgement in all circumstances? Where does it say that men and women are not equal? That social labelling was firmly affixed by men. Thousands of years ago. Perhaps because they COULD get out of the home since women were more adept at nurturing than men were. I think that modern marriages would have a better chance of survival if husbands and wives showed equal respect for each other. Just because the man earns the money in a household doesn't mean he does the lions share of the work or has more responsibility. He has a role to play. Just because the woman stays at home (and let's be honest there are not many women who do so anymore with the need for two income households) does not mean she does not play an equal part in the work or the responsibility that makes a family. She has a role to play. Perhaps I have misunderstood the signs? Perhaps there is a flipside to the discussion that says to husbands that they ought to put their wives first? Perhaps by having an equal partnership we put each other first?

Defined roles, teamwork, equal effort and equal R-E-S-P-E-C-T are the cornerstones of a successful, fulfilling and happy modern marriage.

My biggest question in this regard, I think, is does this mean I am supposed to put my husband ahead of my children and if so how? They are completely different relationships. The love for a spouse requires constant work, the love for children is unconditional. The expectations of the relationship are different and the needs of children differ from the needs of husbands. We do not ascribe to the 'because I said so' or 'becuause I am the Mother/Father' rules of parenting. We believe in respecting our children too, believing that this will teach them that respect is earned and not just given.

It seems like it is a moot point bearing in mind that our marriage is already built on an equal footing. But then why the bombardment with the same message? What am I missing here?

Of hair and being 4

When I was a little girl I was blessed with whispy, fly-away, style-less hair, coupled with a high forehead to give an overall slightly odd look at all times. I never really cared, I was not that kind of child! Since then I have tried numerous short styles, settling for the tousled crew cut I now sport. And will for ever more! Hair is just not my strong point.

For 4 years now I have resisted the fringe effect for young Shannon, determined that she would eventually grow thick long, blond tresses to be the envy of all. Sadly I think I may be deluded and, though in looks she is just like her Dad, she has the misfortune of having inherited my hair!

So I cut it. A short bob with a fringe that seamlessly frames her face making her look oh so much more adorable than she did before. I have embraced the fringe!

Shannon was over the moon with her new haircut, which happenend on Saturday afternoon. She couldn't wait to get to school on Monday for all her friends to see. And she was flocked, little girls of four and five oohing and aahing over the new stylish chica amongst them. Shannon came over to me once the parade had ended and said quietly: Mommy, I love you. Thank you for cutting my hair.

Then it all went horribly wrong. Yesterday one of the girls in her class said Shannon looked ugly because now she looks like a boy! I was not surprised to hear that this had her dissovling into floods of tears and left her tearful for the rest of the day. Even this morning she seemed not to have recovered fully! One person put her down and now she believes that everyone else was talking rubbish and, in fact, she really looks terrible! Something makes me want to take that little girl and shave her head!

Now I must undo the damage to her delicate self-esteem and convince her, once again, that she is beautiful with her new haircut! And not at all like a boy.

The thing is, once I am over my protective mother emotions, I am amazed at the importance placed, by very little girls, on their appearance and the need to be accepted. How delicate their emotions really are. And how easily one wrong word can ruin their little world! Once again I had fallen off the attention wagon and assumed that nothing could really be wrong in my babies worlds because I love them. A bit egocentric don't you think? So now, I am more attentive and watchful to ensure they recieve the attention they need from me, while at the same time hopelessly aware that I cannot protect them forever from the big bad world!

Job requirements... Epic Fail?

I've come to a conclusion. I would make a terrible counsellor.

I always believed, at least until recently, that I would make a great counsellor: I can see other people's point of view almost as clearly as my own, I worked through my own issues and reached a state of higher understanding about being me, I want to help other people improve their lot and I am a caring and empathic person. It turns out I may be deluded.

Behind the above facade lies a whole different person screaming to get out! This person says: get over yourself, pull your socks up and cope! This person prefers to speak than listen! This person judges others against her better judgement. OK, no not really.

I really do feel I understand how people work, better than many others do(hmmm maybe I am deluded). In fact I have no real hangups about how or what other people are. I just want everybody to be happy and successful! Oh and world peace wouldn't be a bad thing either!

So, where I fail really in the whole job requirements for counsellor story is here: I had an idyllic childhood, I belong to a stable and loving family, I was given a good education and guided through life's harder decisions by parents who knew enough to allow me autonomy, while at the same time making sure I was safe, I am now in a stable, happy marriage and have two children who are adored and provided with boundaries to help them become content and successful adults. OK, so I was a bit misunderstood as a teenager and also tended to misunderstand a lot about the world, but that is more normal than not!

So where are my experiences of things traumatic? How can I counsel someone who has been raped, since I have no idea what they are going through? How can I counsel alcoholics or drug addicts when I've not walked a mile in their shoes. How can I help someone who is having a nervous breakdown, if I've never felt the stress that they are feeling? How can I empathise with an abused woman who won't leave her husband, when I've never been beaten or abused? How can I? Not authentically.

I am not all out of ideas though. I have had some experiences, that other people have all the time. Some can cope with them and some can't. Those who can't can be shown how to do so and be taught what to expect and different ways to handle it. I am still thinking about it. It is already done. It should be. I'll think about it some more and blog about it when I am ready!

When I am qualified as a counsellor I will see if I have anything authentic to offer. Until then, I'll be a writer!

on cycles, astrology and being me

I am done being cognitively driven for the moment and have decided to do a little soul searching. Don't know why, or where I am going with this, so please bear with me! Knowing me it will end up cognitively driven anyway... let's see, eh?

Oh, and it's a little long winded so look away now if you are in phase 3!

It is quite apparent, and has been for a long time, although I have chosen to mostly ignore the fact, that I work in cycles. This is not just true of me, but also some of my discerning friends who have noticed a similar sense of their own capabilities. Recently I have decided to pay more attention to my natural tendancies and allow them to guide me rather than trying to override them with positive, self-castigating pep talks. The result has been satisfying, interesting and a little frustrating!

It sounds a bit bi-polar actually. It's not, just so you know! What I haven't yet worked out is how long I take to complete an entire revolution, but I find myself moving, fairly smoothly from highly efficient, motivated, determined and outgoing to demotivated, almost completely inefficient, not bothered and withdrawn into my shell. As I say, this happens fairly smoothly, so I am not bouncing up and down like a yo yo! Nor is it easy to notice the actual time of transition! The motivated phase (P1) moves to some sort of Zen phase (P2) where, though I find it easy enough to do the things I need to do, I am less bothered if they are not perfect or done straight away, this slowly revolves to the whole can't be bothered, don't care, can't bring myself to do anything productive phase (P3), and then I am on the upward curve again back to Zen (P4) followed by highly motivated!

So, what does this twaddle mean, right? It means becoming more intuitive. Listening more carefully to who we are rather than what we want! What it means is that during P1 I can do everything, I can be a great Mum, a brilliant wife, my house is immaculate, my work is finished to a high standard in record time and I am the life and soul of the party. Phase 2 and 4 render me capable of completing all my tasks fairly well, I am perhaps a little less attentive, a little more inwardly focussed, slightly less aware of those around me. BUT. Phase 3, the sucker, makes me desperate for isolation, me time, down time, my housework starts to fall behind, even though I try very hard to force myself to do it, blogging is a no go as my words all seem to dry up, I am impatient with my children and inattentive towards my husband. I have always really struggled with this, thinking things like: what's wrong with me? Why can't I just get on like I usually do? Why am I eating so much (!)?

Ok where are we going with this? So, knowing that the cycle exists allows me to understand where I stand with me! How much I can expect of myself and that overcoming it requires careful reflection, planning and knowing myself a good deal better than I do now. So far I have managed to stop fighting phase 3! But, being a Virgo, and therefore desperate for perfection, I still need to find a way to get things done during the down time! So I am now working on trying to figure out just how long the cycle takes. I am currently emerging from phase 3 I think, I may however have just entered it (not completely au fait with this yet!) as things are still a bit of a chore and I am not feeling very life-and-soul-of-party-ish.

Yes, yes, I know, off on one of my wierd tangents once again. No! Not this time. It feels right! Knowing our natural selves makes life a whole lot easier as, rather than fighting our natural disposition, the mind will (it has to) start working with our intuition rather than against it. Being in tune with who we are must lead to a happier, more content, more satisfying existence, versus thinking that we can make ourselves feel better through eating, shopping or gossiping. Feel better first... then indulge ourselves!

So the crux of the situation is that I am attempting to become more intune with the natural me and take back control from the cognitive me, which is highly dominant! One step closer to perfection! *sigh* (Oh, there's Virgo again!)

Anyone else out there got any fabulous insights in this regard?

I've been away...

...and there was no internet and the dog ate the computer! That's my excuse for not blogging and I'm sticking to it.

Actually it may have more to do with writing other stuff and not having any words left, but there you go. And here I am, back again!

Since my last post my Mum has been to visit... and returned to Turkey... and is, in fact, already packing for her next trip, to another daughter. Mum's visiting all three of us this year: South Africa, England then Australia. What a life! We had an awesome time together. The best we ever have, I think. It was great to have her to myself for once since, though those of you who know me may not agree, I am the least talkative of us three sisters! I love to talk, that's a given but, when in a room with my darling sisters, it can be a little difficult to make myself heard sometimes. Just an observation you understand! Mum spoiled us rotten, as is her wont and we laughed and played at being writers, we shopped, we ate chocolate. The dark stuff. Shannon was a little bemused that her granny doesn't knit but, since Mum devised a brilliant game for Shannon to play which involves learning to read without noticing, she got the thumbs up anyway! It was fantastic, come again Mum, but try to bring Dad with you too!!

Yesterday I made the huge decision, (I say I made the decision rather than we as Sean put his faith in me to choose and left me to it) at least it feels huge to me, of which school to send Shannon to next year! She starts 'big' school and we have chosen a lovely little school about 3km from home which I am so pleased I went to see as I had sort of written it off thanks to some incorrect information about it. Just goes to show you should always find out things for yourself before making a judgement, even if your source is usually very reliable! So Shannon is off to Forest View Primary School next year - just have to sort out all the paperwork. Ugh.

Jordan is growing outwards and upwards but still has only 4 teeth! He is 17 months old for goodness sake! I wouldn't mind so much if he didn't spend so much time trying to grow more teeth! Honestly! Otherwise he is completely adorable and very naughty!

Shannon is all long, skinny arms and legs and seems to be having one growth spurt after another. Just as I've restocked the cupboards after one bout of growing, she's eaten the lot again. A little advice, don't buy tights or trousers that fit a 4-5 year old! Rather buy them for a 15 year old and let them grow into them!

Sean seems to have really found his place in the world with steel fabrication. He has a lilt in his voice and a spring in his step that I have not seen or heard for a long time! He is still under enourmous pressure from a cash flow point of view, but the work just keeps coming in.

And as for me, I have decided to postpone my honours degree for a year (yes, I will have a Bachelor of Arts Degree by the end of this year! How time flies!) in view of being a full time writer! The career of my dreams, let's see if I can pull it off!

Well that's it for now! I think we're up to date! So, 'til the next time...

Word games

A child learning to speak, starting with the very first words all the way through to trying to get their grammar correct, and the right suffix on a word, is one of the most amazing developmental processes to bear witness to.

Jordan is stepping boldly into this world with his version of what he hears and can already, to his mother's ear, say Mummy, Daddy, Shannon (Nana), bottle (bobble), car, play, up (blup), no, yip(somehow 'yes' has eluded him), dog (do), door, (do) - yes I know they are the same, it's the context that alters them - among other things. I watch with facsination as, everyday, he adds another recognisable sound to his repertoir.

Shannon, being the chatterbox that she is, is well on her way to talking correctly in every aspect (although she still adds endings that she seems to think make more sense than the real one, or put words in an order that she prefers!) so, in the interests of keeping things interesting we play word games with her. When she was younger this used to consist of the following interaction:

Mummy: Shannon, say fossilised
Shannon: I can't
Mummy: what can't you say
Shannon: fothilithed

very cute!

Then we went through this stage:

Mummy: Shannon, say fossilised
Shannon: I can't
Mummy: what can't you say
Shannon: I can't say what you said (got brains that child)

recently this has started:

Mummy: Shannon say photosynthesis
Shannon: photosynthesis

Mummy: Shannon say multidisciplinary
Shannon: multidisciplinary

Mummy: Shannon say metamorphosis
Shannon: metamorphosis

... when did that happen??? I can't seem to catch her out any more... I need more words people, how can I challenge her diction if all the words are too easy for her? hmmm maybe we should move on to meanings. Shannon's first, that'll bring some interesting ideas to light. Asked what Daddies are made from she replied wood, and Mummies, apparently, are made from water and strawberries! Glad I'm a Mummy!

Around the world in 80 clicks

Exciting things are afoot! For the first time in my blogging existence I have been tagged to take part in a meme that's doing the rounds. Thanks Sparx you've made my day!

So in the interests of playing my part...

Here are the rules: Write a post of your own about 5 things that you love about being a Mum. Tag 5 bloggers - someone from your own country, if you like, but definitely someone from another country - and link back to me here and finally go to Her Bad Mother and leave a comment.

Ok, 5 things that I love about being a Mum are:

1. trying to make myself believe that these two adorable little beings are there for me to love, nurture and interact with all the time. I am wholly responsible for 2 little people(Eek). Nearly 5 years on I am still over-awed by the fact that I helped to create real little people and who they are, and what they get out of life starts with how much love and interaction I share with them. That's a huge responsibility and an amazing privilege!

2. having an excuse to sit and colour in while other adults go about preparing food and doing the dishes. I would really love to help, but the children will all be underfoot and causing trouble if I don't keep them entertained... really!

3. seeing life through my own mother's eyes and beginning to understand our relationship from her point of view. This is a neverending chain of changing relationships as daughter becomes mother, and I am part of that chain.

4. seeing the world through the eyes of a child and realising that the little things, like chasing butterflies and saying 'I love you' are more important than the hustle and bustle of life in the fast lane.

5. getting to see the children's faces when they are given a surprise or a treat that they were dying to have: Disbelief mixed with wow-Mum-is-the-greatest/-magic/-the-cleverest-bestest person in the whole world!

So, that's my five and now I tag, in the interests of keeping it international, Expatmum in the USA, Reluctant Mem in Tanzania, Potty Mummy in Bonny Blighty, my own Mum, Geriatric Gapper, in Turkey, and because I enjoy her story so much, So Close, from Cape Town, South Africa. What are your favourite things about being a Mum?

Comments 101

Right, people. In the interests of making this blog more attractive to NON Family members I have decided to write more posts, more regularly. The idea of a blog, other than to keep family up to date on the goings on in our lives, is to join a whole new community of similar minded people and interact with them in the blogsphere.

As it stands I do interact with them... on their blogs. So the question is, how do I get them to come over to visit me? The technlogy in this seems to elude me - please feel free to enlighten me if you know what I have to do there - so I have decided that more posts, more regularly is a good place to start.

I also think that perhaps more comments might make me more visible to all those search engines. So, in the interests of giving me a step up, I need your help. I know that many family read this, so please leave a comment every now and then...

Here's how:

• Click on the word 'comments' at the bottom of the post
• Fill in the comment box with anything you feel like saying (preferably nice and preferably on topic)
• Fill in the funny word so I know you are not a hacker and then
• If you don't have a google account select either Name (url is optional) and fill in your name, or Annonymous if you prefer to remain so
  
• Click 'publish your comment' and voila you will be part of my virtual community

Right, now there are NO excuses. Please do your bit for this poor lonely blogger!

Dilemma:

How long do you go on doing a favour for someone after you realise they are using you and are not even grateful?

I have been giving someone's maid a lift back to the complex everyday after I drop the kids at school. I don't mind but it does have its downsides: I am committed to coming home after the school run every day and am unable to change my mind at the last minute and go and get the shopping out the way, or pop in to the library, because I have to bring the maid back first. I forwent this freedom and arranged my life so that I could do this favour.

Yesterday I didn't realise, through my own inattention, that she had asked me to give the maid a lift home when I fetched the kids. So I happily drove on by oblivious. Later I recieved a very accusatory sms saying the poor woman had had to start walking and this person's Mother-in-Law had had to take her herself. I appologised. It was my oversight. I have heard nothing back. On top of this, I might just add that she almost never said thank you or even bothered to stick her head out the door to say good morning when I dropped the maid off. I am sure I was doing her a favour. I felt as though I was working for her.

I am not the kind of person who needs recognition for helping out and can, in fact, happily do things for people who don't even know it was me doing the deed! But in this instnace I suppose I just expected a bit of politeness and to not be taken for granted. Needless to say, I no longer will be fetching the maid and will have my time back as my own.

Is this selfish of me? What would you do in the same situation?

Is there such a thing as too much chocolate?

I am afraid (yes I know, I know, it's chocolate) that I have to say a resounding YES! But only in certain circumstances including ones where will power is required to resist consumption and others where most of it (the chocolate rather than the will power) is actually Shannon's.

The Easter weekend has passed and we were, as usual, conservative with what we bought, perhaps knowing that the urge to indulge our beautiful children may be too much for others to bear. It was and they were, as usual, spoilt by those whose priviledge it is to do so! So, now we have a fridge full of chocolate and nowhere to keep the veggies. *sigh* The trouble is... will power is one of the last things on my list of self help requirements. In fact we can safely say I haven't even considered attempting to overcome my grossly obvious lack of it, after all you only live once.

Instead I have changed the way I shop (i.e. no chocolates, sweets, puddings or biscuits get bought so no will power required to limit my intake) and the way I think about food so that I feel more than a little self righteous about my healthy choices, rather than feeling sore that I am not indulging in my greatest fantasy: a chocolate eating marathon. Followed by my second: eat as many ribs as you can with chips on the side! Ok, I digress...

SO. Easter is over. The fridge is full of chocolate and somehow screaming my name. I am home alone.

*Who will even know?*

Family ties

This time of the year is all about family for me. As a child I remember large gatherings of my extensive family in one place or another with an abundance of different characters in whose company and familiarity one could indulge. I think, somehow, I took it for granted. All those important people were always there and always the same. We are fewer now, and yet more. Some of the prominent characters have moved on to greener pastures, others have just begun their sojourn within the comforting confines of the family. Branches have been added as other families have joined the original one. We are all related. Somehow.

I am determined, now, not to take it for granted. To enjoy and file away to memory all the bits and pieces that make up the memory of Family. I want to indulge in each age group within the herd, know what they want, feel and know. Understand them and remember how they are, so in years from now I can say: Way back then... and the memories will be a part of all of us.

Last night we had an awesome gathering of family. Only 2 generations, and only those that still live in these parts. But we still numbered 12 people (if we count Jordan who slept through the whole event). I talked more than I have for a long time. On every topic from the end of the world to life choices. I hope I listened too. But we chatted non stop. And I could because I feel accepted. Because they know me. Because I am part of the family. I can speak my mind and be part of their stories. I belong.

As luck would have it I will be getting an added dose of family over this long weekend of family-ness. Part of my first family is in town, here to indulge their craving for sun, sand and sea. And they are here on mass. It is so important to me to keep abreast with that part of me. I share the same blood line. They are part of who I am genetically and personally. They watched me grow up, change over the years (hopefully), accepted my addition to our family and then, in turn, were excited and happy when our new little bundles joined the ranks. I belong there too.

On top of that, the following week another extension of that extensive family will find their way here. And then Mum arrives for a flying visit. I am smiling now as it seems that it can't possibly be just this time of year that is all about family, for once my first family have returned to their respective homes, those from my new family who no longer live here, descend upon us. We will all be together. Three Generations: Parents, three children and their spouses and all the grandchildren. Life for me is all about relationships and experiences. I hope they will always remain entwined.

Mother's pride

Before I begin I just have a little Shannonism to tell:

I was talking to Shannon about Grannies as she was wondering why hers never fetch her from school the way other children's grannies do. So I told her about how my Mummy and Daddy and Sean's Mummy and Daddy live very far away and that we get special time with them when they come to visit. So we talked about Mum coming to visit and how she would do puzzles and read books with Shannon and... Shannon looked at me sideways and said: 'why will she do puzzles? Doesn't she do knitting?' Ah, stereotypes from a 4 year old!

So. I have it on good authority that a mother's love is the strongest kind. Without really trying most mothers develop a bond with their children that nothing could break. And so it should be. I would say that whoever designed it that way knew women (according to Shannon God is a girl... she is adamant about that...) extremely well. I have two children who I adore with every fibre in me, and yet...

When I look in the mirror I see more weight than I would like to be carrying: I got that from 2 revoltingly weighty pregnancies; I have a wrinkly, flabby tummy (from the same 2 pregnancies) that strikes the bikini from my wardrobe forever; every time I think I have a minute to myself I find I have to get up to fetch milk, make a sandwich, wipe up sick, run the bath, sweep mud back into the garden, clean crayon off the walls, cook supper (and then be moaned at because no one wants to eat vegetables)...

And I do it all. I love my babies more and more every day. I can sit and watch them play, watch their facial expressions change, their abilities improve (Jordan can now climb up onto most things that are above his head height - and when you say Get Down he giggles triumphantly!) I can watch them grow and develop into the people they will be and I get to love them and be loved unconditionally in return.

But, damn... when I look in the mirror... *sigh*

Being a Mum is no easy task: it takes away most of your independence (since you usually have little people in tow where ever you go) is demanding, tiring, frustrating and never ending. Yet, I would still endure all of that and loads more, for the privledge of having my children. So here's to that well designed, unbreakable bond of a mother's love for her children!

And a large glass of wine at the end of the day never hurt either!

Do what?

The reason I have been *missing* for the last few days can be attributed completely to the incompetence of Telkom, my ISP, and their inability to either protect my bandwidth from theft, or to assist me in reconnecting to the new user name I paid good money to use. Luckily I am blessed with brains and a very understanding husband, between the two of us we got it sorted!

This post is, however, not an anti Telkom vent, infact I wouldn't afford them the priveledge! It is, among other things, because Shannon's solution to keeping Jordan in check is somewhat faulty. Here's how it played out:

Me: I think I should spin the vacuum cleaner around the house.
Shannon: Yay, we can pretend to get scared of the noise and go aaagghhhhh (faulty in itself but not the worst of it)
Me: How will we keep Jordan from getting in the way?
Shannon (with very little consideration, thankfully): Just tie him down, Mummy!

Jordan started creche just last week and seems to have settled in straight away. He spent much of his first day saying NO! to the teacher and shaking his finger at her when she wouldn't let him do the naughty things he was trying to do. His second day was much improved, however, and it seems that it has been a good decision all round. This month he is only going 2 days a week and next month he will go 4 days a week!

We also seem to have overcome the sleep issue. Accidentally. Here's how it happened: I put Jordan down for his nap and the phone rang. I left him in his pram and went to answer the phone. When I came back he was asleep. Next he went to school and at his nap time they chucked (not literally you understand) him in a cot and he went to sleep. I retrieved his cot from the garage, put him in it at bed time and... he went to sleep.

He still wakes up in the night but ususally only once and that is definitly manageable!

Now I need to rant. I am still breast feeding Jordan at 14 months. I have low oestrogen levels. In order to combat that a medically trained person recommended that I must wean him now (which is fine, I have started as it happens but for reasons other than these) as, and I quote: it has absolutely no benefit to him now and he is just using you for a dummy!

I beg your pardon? She is a nurse! Where was she taught and which archaeic medical professional told her that? Perhaps I am misinformed but I have always believed that:

1. breast milk is still nutritionally rich - that's why they make follow on formula for bottle fed babies older than 12 months

2. breast milk has components that aid in brain development and the longer the child is breast fed the longer they are able to use those chemicals (DHA being one of them) and the better they will cope with living and learning.

3. breastfed babies are lower risk from MANY problems occurring in kids today including obesity, allergies and behavioural disorders.

4. breast feeding lowers risk to the mother of breast cancer and osteoporosis

5. it is emotionally beneficial to both mother and child. Children whose emotional needs are met as babies and toddlers (and breast feeding is the most amazing emotional staff for babies) grow up to be more independent and better at coping.

I am not saying here that anyone who has not breastfed has done their child a disservice, only that it is not useless post 12 months! If I am wrong on any of these accounts please tell me.

Phew! I feel better now!

That dam wall and the dolphin show

We live in a beautiful area of KwaZulu Natal, surrounded by every colour, sight and sound that nature has to offer... and then some. For some reason, however (for argument's sake we'll say global warming), our natural environment seems to have lost its sense of humour. The weather is taking its toll.

Recently we have had destructive winds, rain, thunder, lightening and hail hurling their wrath upon us in a most unnecessary manner. The latest in this trail of destruction was (nearly) our house and, most definitely, our conservancy. The rain that dropped out of the sky on Saturday was rather alarming to say the least especially as, for some reason, it started to fill up the garden. That has never happened before! So, having made makeshift sand bags from refuse bags stuffed with wet towels, we had to find a way to avert certain disaster. After threatening to knock over the little wall around the drains, heeding my request to make another plan and dashing round the garden to research the next best course of action, Sean knocked some fence posts out (then rebuilt it later while it was still raining - bit of a go-getter, our Sean) and dug a trench which, luckily, drained the water quite quickly and we soon saw grass again.



That, sadly, was just the tip of the iceberg, however, as, just below our homes, in the gorge, is a conservancy with 2 little dams... at least there used to be. Now there is a conservancy with one little dam and a rather swollen river.





Oh, and a big mud hole 30 odd metres across where the other dam used to be. No more fishing. Although, on the bright side, Sean reckons he can now restock his fishing box with all the tackle he, and others, have lost in the middle of the dam on previous fishing trips.






I haven't shown Shannon yet. I think she will be horrified. I will take her down on Saturday, maybe. Jordan will think someone just made the MOST fun new playground for him so perhaps I will strap him in his pram for the duration... hmm, that'll be interesting.


So, having had a rather wet Saturday, we were all gagging to get out on Sunday. Since our fabulous friends Les, Ollie and little Sam, were here to visit, they decided to treat us to a trip to Ushaka Marine World.

Once again, as in this post, Shannon was spell bound. Jordan and Sam were equally spellbound - for all of about 10 minutes. Having said that Sam sat intently through the Dolphin show while Jordan screamed his lungs out until I started dancing with him on my shoulders.





I guess he just couldn't stand the MC chap without whom the show would have been a good deal better. It was, however, amazing to see those huge dolphins strutting their stuff!!!






The aquarium was full of fish, amazingly, and people doing various shark diving and snorkling activities. They were funny to look at from underneath! Lunch was delicious and Shannon managed to put away 2 whole icecreams!!! Thanks, Les and Ollie, for a great day out!

Just trying to work something out

I am teetering on the edge of Can't Be Bothered. And, incidentally, Denial. Denial because Can't Be Bothered is actually a symptom of something deeper that I can't lay a finger on, not the problem itself. A lack of motivation? Unlike me. I usually potter along easily to the beat of my routine! And so where is this precipice on which I find myself?

I have many, many things to do: finalise paperwork for visas, finish and send off a unit of my diploma, join an organisation for a module of my degree, renew my driver's licence, renew Shannon's passport, apply for Jordan's passport, start assignments whose deadlines loom closer every day, write an article... yet another looming deadline... oh and cook, colour in, bath children, run...

It's not that I don't enjoy any of the tasks that make up my day. I do, in fact, enjoy almost every one of them. The incidentals are a bit of a bore but necessary nonetheless. It's just that I feel like there are bigger things afoot and that I ought to stop concentrating on all these little things and focus on the big picture. The problem is that the big picture is made up of all the little things without which there would be no picture. Am I right?

Maybe I need chocolate... or perhaps it is less serious than that?

So maybe I am losing focus? Hmmm, that sounds about right, actually. I need to focus on the 'why' behind the picture - What do all the little tasks add up to? Where will they take me? What will become of me if I do/ don't do them? - Then gather myself together and tackle each task a little bit at a time.

Ah, another insight... it's all a little overwhelming too. Having so many small tasks to concentrate on has great potential to cause unravelling. I need to put the big picture on the wall and add bits as I go, to each separate concept, little by little, building up until the next stage is complete. So deep breath, focus and... look out Salvador Dali!!!

Eenie Meenie Miney Mo

The thing is I am such a wonderful Mummy that my son wants to spend his every waking hour with me. Cute, eh? Perhaps, and in an ideal world this would be heaven for me.

In that ideal world I would be just-a mum. (yes I know it never works like that but I did mention a world that is ideal) I would get my adorable, well behaved cherubs up at around 7 in the morning - in preference to the 5.30 am rude awakening I generally receive - They would cheerfully eat all their breakfast, in one go, and take their empty bowls to the kitchen. We would then engage in learning/constructive play all morning, during which they would hang, spell bound, on my every word, following which we would have lunch, with adorable cherubs consuming all their veggies without a second thought. The afternoon would include a trip to the shops and then free play. Then Sean would come home from work and attend to bath time, supper time and bedtime while I languish comfortably on the couch, glass of wine in hand waiting for my own supper to be served! hmm I seem to have removed myself to another universe, rather than just an ideal world.

Ah well, back to reality. I have a number of tasks, during the day, which require my undivided attention. Jordan is supposed to play with Dorcas while I concentrate. The problem is: He Wants To Play With Me.

My options are:

1. wait for the phase to pass if it ever does????
2. send him to school with Shannon and do the housework myself?????

Not sure I like either option actually. Presumably, in order to avoid making a decision, I will end up with option 1. Bother!

Discipline...

...or the lack of it, is the most prevalent concern in the Hendry household at the moment. Shannon seems to be doing ok, as long as I remember that she is four years old and a normal four year old:

• jumps on the couches and beds when possible
  
• bounces off the walls
• runs, hops and jumps everywhere she goes
• and is VERY VERY loud!

No, it is Jordan who is causing trouble and depleting the reserves of Rescue! I have taken to saying 'NO' firmly, leaving no one in any doubt that they are doing something wrong. No one, that is, except Jordan, who bursts into tears as if his world is ending and goes right back to doing what it was he got in trouble for. I have, I am sorry to admit, tried smacking his tiny little hand as it goes for the things he is not allowed to touch, like my computer/mouse/keyboard (can you say accidental ctrl/A/delete?) and I get the same reaction: distraught tears and a return to the scene of the crime! *sigh* I can't send him to the bathroom or make him sit on the naughty mat as he would not have a clue what was going on!

So what is my plan of action?... um ....I think... perhaps I should... OK, I admit, I am at a loss. How do I discipline a 1 year old who merely thinks I am ruining his fun when I get cross with him? Either I can't remember this from Shannon 3 and a half years ago (yes, I have probably blocked it out in order to dupe me into believing it is safe to have a second child!) or she was just better at listening. At least THEN she was! Ok, ok I am deluded and suffering from some sort of amnesia but back to my question: What do I do now???

Other than this:

In the mean time...

...2 very important birthdays have come and gone, at such a speed they have left their cards flapping in their breeze.

Jordan turned 1 on January 15. I can't believe a year has passed already, and how he has changed in that time amazes me. He is a proper little boy now. No longer a baby. He understands simple instructions. I ask him: where are your blocks? and he beckons me to follow him to fetch them from his room. When I say bath time, he heads for the bath room. If he is hungry he drags his high chair towards the fridge. When he hear me pick up the car keys he says 'bye bye' and goes to the door. He is only 1. Only just. But he knows and understands far more than I give him credit for. He is adorable. At least I think so, I his Mum, I'm allowed to see all the special bits only. If I want to.

Sean turned 41 on January 24. Sean was already pretty good at simple instructions. We are working on the more complicated ones now: where are your keys? When he is hungry he.... OK, stop making fun of him, 41 is not THAT old! Moving swiftly on... His birthday present? A steel business. His own. Officially BMO Steel Fabrication is trading from Monday, February 2nd. I, for one, am very excited. Sean is aprehensive, as anyone would be on the verge of something that means so much to them. I am proud of him. I know this is his big success story.


Happy birthday to my boys, here's wishing you have many, many more and you spend them all with Shannon and me!

A little perspective, if I may...

We are in the process of making yet more life furthering decisions. Sean is starting up in business partnership in his continual drive for improvements in our lives, I have successfully negotiated 2 years of a degree and am well set to meet the requirements to continue my professional development once I finish this year. Our children are growing up fast and the years are ticking by. As they do so our marriage grows stronger, our family bond has become the foundation on which we make our decisions and our children continue to light the way to our future. And so we must strive to live and make our lives what we want them to be. That’s why we do what we do. It has never been clearer.

Sean and I are intelligent, individual people, with hopes, fears, dreams and realities, just like everybody else. Due to the paths in life we have taken, we are where we are now: a full time mother, wife and student, and a husband, father and earner. We are different to many other people. Our lives have ensured that. We have been places and experienced things that other people only read about in books. We may not have years of career behind us, but we have years of life experiences. Life is too short to only spend it planning for the future. We have lived. Now we are realigning our needs and wants, ticking the right boxes, ready for the next stage. It is yet another experience. We are living.

Sean has found, after many years of searching, an industry in which he feels comfortable, and one where he sees the potential to fulfil his drive for financial security. He has been given a huge leg up, for which he is extremely grateful. But he is ambitious and wishes to constantly improve the lifestyle that he provides for his family. He can’t do that by standing still and waiting for handouts. He can do that by investing in himself and his natural talent for all things practical. Why wait? Why put off something that can potentially change our current situation for the better? Even if it is only a little bit better, better is always good. Isn’t that a valuable way to live a life? I believe in Sean; he has an uncanny understanding of things that appear murky and confusing to others (including myself, often), but he usually proves himself right in the end. Belief is a powerful tool that we can use to improve our lot, lacking faith in one’s self removes that power, so we strive to maintain it. Sean will go far self-employed in the right industry. That is our goal.

Another way that Sean and I are attempting to improve our situation is by furthering my education and allowing me the time to do that as quickly and as well as possible. We are happy to live life as we do in order to make this a possibility. If this means that we must go without a few things, then so be it. Once I am qualified I will be able to increase our financial stability and future prospects, alongside Sean, far more than I would if we concerned ourselves with our current situation and I went to work full time now. Once again, why wait? My earning potential is currently very low and the expense of full time care for our children and the extra petrol money would make it a waste of time. Before Shannon is even in senior primary, and Jordan starts school, I will be a bona fide psychologist. That is our goal.

Something else that is of huge importance to us is the way we raise our children. We are in the enviable position that enables me to stay at home with Shannon and Jordan. I am here whenever they are here. I believe that gives them an invaluable start to life, knowing that I am always a constant in their lives. I realise and appreciate how lucky we are that we can offer this to our children. Once again if sacrifices have to be made to allow this, then that's what we will do. This is another reason I do not go to work. We are lucky that our lives have worked out in this way. Had I developed my career earlier I would be compelled to work in order not to fall behind. By the time I am ready to lauch myself back into the working world Shannon and Jordan will both be at school/creche and they will need me less. Timing is everything.

Long term security rather than instant gratification are our objectives; if we do not do what we are doing we will not achieve them. They are our decisions. We have made them carefully and thoughtfully in the best interests of our family. Life has taught us many lessons which we have learned and implemented in a way that has broadened our horizons and opened our minds. We have grown as people and have come to the point we are at now through much discussion, understanding and experience. We are capable. Our continued belief in what we are doing will help us to fulfil our reality. That is something that I know! Having learnt life's lessons thus far has paved the way for 2009 to be the year we step up a level, and every year after that will be yet another step up. Each new life stage offers a chance to change and improve on what has come before. Now is our spring board into the future. Until the next one, onwards and upwards.