just something quick

I'm in a very warm library with Heidi (they DO heating in this country!) with exactly 1 hour to internet. So I've checked my email (alas) and checked my regular blogs... and now I thought I'd drop something in here.
I've been having a very special time with Heidi and her family. Little Keira is the sweetest thing. A very contented baby full of smiles, and sleeps at the most convenient times (including at night!) I've formed a special connection with Kaityn, she's full of cuddles and has an endearing British accent. I'm so loving seeing the space she inhabits - the shops (Hobbycraft, yum) and the school and the roads and her lovely decidedly un-British house. Now I'll be able to picture her in her space when we email and chat.
Also got to see Annie & Mark (& Daniel). Wonderful to see old friends, and lovely to just pick up where we left off.
BUT: I'm so missing my boys. All of my boys. I dreamt about a house flooding last night and I was very anxious about getting all my boys out. I need to see them. And I'm quite desperate to see my Biggest Boy. Missing him so much. I think 10 days is long enough. Two weeks is a bit too long.

"Do I like smiles? Yes, but only if they are real and filled with life. And I also like tears. You see, truth is beautiful, no matter what the expression." Randy Bacon

A Cambridge-ish Tome (forgive me)

I have had the most wonderful day today, and should be settling down to do a little more work, but I'm feeling a "fluence" from a G&T at Eagles pub (Most Famous Pub in Cambridge, and quite delicious G with my T) and two glasses of Most Fine Australian Shiraz served to us at Henry's by a sweet polish bar lady (I couldn't work out whether she was 14 or 15, but gave her a fine tip anyway).
Cambridge has been a wonderful experience. It's been amazing to have the freedom to reconnect with Dad. No "little ones" needing my undivided (although I have missed them like my heart breaking slowly into tiny pieces, which I'll mail back to myself, first class mail). I love the anachronisms of walking out of Sainsbury's, with its long isles of 47 different flavours and fat-contents of yoh-ghurt and 11p spaghetti, and catching a glimpse of a 400+yr old academic college, complete with turrets, statues, neatly shaved grass (light green this way, dark green that way, how do they do this?) and stained glass. The round church is unique and beautiful. The japanese elm in the Emanual College Fellows' Garden is probably the biggest non-Hogsback-Big-Tree I've ever seen. And breathtakingly beautiful. I found myself taking photos of doors and windows and trees and grass and even bicycles, like a true scrapbooker / Japanese tourist. I wonder if I'll have the will, energy or time to create a scrapbook / travel journal?
I've had the Best Time browsing in bookstores - Waterstones, WH Smith, Rymans (ah, stationery...) and Borders. Bought the boys books on dinosaurs, slinky malinky & hairy mcclary, and some I-am-such-a-good-mother-and-teacher early learning books on writing and numeracy. Dad and I managed to find the Cheapest Plastic-Crap Dinosaurs in Western Europe (a mere £1 to the £13 at The Cambridge Toy Shop). At least I have managed to cross off item number one on the boys' long list of Things Mom Will Get Us in England (to appease her guilt and distract us from she'll-be-away-for-2-weeks). Items number two and three are a little hard to acquisite: "men" (I think this might be X-men or the typical action hero figures) and "blankets with snake on it" (not quite sure where this comes from and where I should find such things and even whether I want to).
I managed a cross-country journey (15min walk in 7.10am prewinter-cold - 2.5hr uncomfortable coach journey - run to Oxford train station, miss train by 12 seconds - wait twenty minutes for next train, smelling delicious Costa coffee but too snoep to pay R36 for cuppa - train trip to Banbury station - wait expectantly for Phil & Mel at Banbury, not really convinced I'm in the right place and pressing send on a SOS sms as I see their Vauxhall turning into the parking lot - 10 min chatter-car drive to their lovely spot) to visit Phil & Mel & Ben & Anna. Don't get me wrong, I don't for one single second regret the rather tedious trip to get to them. It was thoroughly wonderful to see their house (big! not like your typical middle-row, double storey hole most English live in), get a taste of "public school" life and get to know the Schonken kids just a little better. I loved Anna bringing me books to read (she, basically, read them to me, with her rabbits go "hop hop hop" - mind the spittle - and fish go "phlup phlup phlup") and fetching wooden train tracks one at a time to make a long and slightly drunken track for the trains. I, after 20 minutes, managed to decifer sweet-Ben's lispy talk, Pom accent and all, and thoroughly enjoyed engaging with him about CBB's website and the Tweenies. Boy, did I miss my boys, but nothing a bit of Schonken-free-5,000mile-telephone-chatter couldn't cure (how can you not melt when your boys say "Love you, Mom" even if prompted by your Most Excellent Husband?)
Tomorrow I'm onto my Best Mate... I get to meet Heidi's fresh-babe: Keira-Page (not hyphenated, me thinks, but I rather like it hyphenated). I get to play with Heidi at an open-air market full of scrapbooking supplies (so I'm promised), buy Christmas stuff i don't really need but can't resist from Tesco's (thank you, Mel) and salavate at all the homewear goods at Ikea (and probably lug a catalogue home to attempt with little success to replicate the "rooms").
OK. Time for bed. I need to earn money tomorrow, Vanharm's Believe or Not, and I plan to be at my desk at 8am.
Missing all at home and in far-away places (like Australia-mate... please come home quick, Mom).

Today's Interesting but Useless HInt: Sudoku is much easier to do after a couple of drinks, much like speaking Afrikaans, playing the piano and telling lame jokes.

off to the wild side

On Friday, I was asked by my "employer" if I'd assist with a 3-day workshop (Water Summit) for OR Tambo. I'm like: "when?" (next week). Think think think. Nothing on (except a wax), but momsie's leaving on Friday. I say "Um?" They say "It's at the Wild Coast Sun." I hold my tongue in order to play hard-to-get, while thinking "YES YES YES". Instead I say "So what do you want me to do? I don't do secretariate." Ends up that I'm facilitating some group work and plenary sessions (good learning experience) and will be assisting with drawing up the final report (at R400/hr!, but alas, not for me.)
As of next month, my employer will be Ms KA van Harmelen. She's not easy to work for, but she understands me. This is good. She's already given me my November workplan: a research project into financial modelling in municipalities, then 2 weeks' paid trip to the UK (I like this woman), then some training (ETD Practioner). I think this could work.

bloody blogger (aka "More Good Shrink Time")

(Disclaimer: this was emailed to my blog on Thursday... it's yet to appear. So here it is "manually")

Yes, I did nearly call him my "shrink" to his face, but I could see the twinkle in his eye... he doesn't mind people calling him "shrink". Just one of my "routine" visits but I had to confess that I hadn't taken the drugs he'd prescribed last time I was there (mood stabilizers). Oops. Meant to phone, but didn't...
Things are much better with me, and here is some of the evidence:
1. I laugh more than I cry when I'm in his office (and it's not nervous or hysterical laughter)
2. I've got friends. No, really, I have! We were looking back to January, when I first saw him, and he'd asked about friends. I said I have one close one, but she's in the UK. We email. Now I've got tons. Love love LOVE my girlfriends, in the form of Book Club Girls, Gym Girls, Scrapbooking Girls, eFriends and two who merit "special mention": Ali and Shupiwe. They can certainly take some credit for my improved sanity.
3. We had a party and invited a bunch of people. It was MY idea and it was very cool.
4. I'm enjoying exercise and giving it some credit for being more Seratonin-sunny and Dopamine-dilly.
5. I'm being retrenched, and happy about it. It's going to give me time to find something I'm more passionate about.
6. I have been talking about depression and giving my medication (Venlor 150mg) some credit for helping me through. This is demystifying this "disease" for me and for others around me.
7. I'm reading. I'm reading FOUR books at the moment (he says to me: "how do you read for books at once?"). Now that's the old me. I can't remember reading a SINGLE book last year. Oh, BTW, if you haven't read "The Time Traveller's Wife", read it.
8. I did a scrapbook workshop on Saturday with Ali, called the "ABC of me" album. It went very very well. I was flat by the end of it, probably from exhaustion and all the giving, but we both received the most beautiful sms's about it afterwards. And we're running a kykweer in a few weeks time for those who feel they've missed out. Good stuff. I have tons of idea about more workshops, too.
9. My "down times" are no longer amorphous. I can name them, I can (usually) identify the cause, and I have skills and strategies to deal with them.
10. I'm planning to write a book of my own. Yes. I can make this happen (aka: "If you don't risk anything, you risk even more" Erica Jong).
So, my brain is shrunk. Now I'm working on my body! Hah!

Ten on Tuesday (is it Tuesday?)

Just some randomness for your edification / entertainment / boredom-beater:
1. I have just finished a report I've been procrastinating for about three weeks. *sigh*
2. I woke up this morning with the birds tweeting. This was a real pleasure, believe me. It could be that Tim stayed in his bed all night (first time in weeks) or it could be that summer is coming and it was light and tweety at 4.45.
3. When I woke up this morning, I silently thanked goodness that it was the weekend. Then I really woke up.
4. I don't like praying mantises (I have no idea how to do the plural of mantis). I was reminded of this again yesterday twice: once when I was journaling "what makes me afraid" for my All About Me album and once while being subjected to Ants (with advert breaks) again by Matt & Tim.
5. I watched my boys fighting at school this morning. I didn't intervene. I waited for their teacher (and my friend) to do her job. *sigh*
6. I have only just discovered coffee milkshakes. This is not good. All that time wasted, and my poor waist.
7. I am currently reading four books: The Lovely Bones, Down Under, Eats Shoots and Leaves (does it have a comma or not?) and Designer's Eye for Scrapbooking with Patterned Paper. It's quite a treat to get into bed and decide which one I'll fall asleep under.
8. I've remembered AGAIN that we haven't phoned Phil for his birthday. I keep remembering the next day... the evenings seem to whoosh past and we haven't phoned. Forgive us, Phil, if you read this.
9. Ant can say "no more" (quick and gruff). Poor boy, have we been overfeeding him?
10. I have a rainbow-coloured nail file on my desk. Which I use about twice a month. For emergencies only.
(springboard? edillow's blog.)

reasons to be glad

A dear friend, and perhaps relation in another life, gave me a beautiful book called "100 reasons to be glad". The encouragement is to make your own... Here are some of mine. There'll be more.

 

Travel writing (esp Bill Bryson)

Colour

Paper

A fire on a chilly winter night

Ham and cream cheese on a croissant for breakfast (what I'll eat everyday in Heaven)

Fresh, clean sheets on my bed

My husband calling me "my sunshine" (even if it did just rhyme with "1-time")

Friends who make me laugh

That Martha Beck "left the saints" and is writing books 

There's a job  out there for me that's worth doing and doing well 

A winter sea

That shaft of sunlight that pierces the clouds and brightens the winter sea

Spier Chenin Blanc (and that it's only R22.95 a bottle)

Robertson's RubCab (and that it's only R18.95 a bottle)

A (relatively) conflict-free family

Sanity (even if it just alights briefly, like a butterfly) 

I was going to blog something, but...

I can't remember what. Well, not exactly what. So...
1. Heidi's having her bebe today. YAY YAY YAY, happy birth-day!
2. My order of Heidi Swapp chipboard letters and KI Memories mega-alphas has just come in (ordered on behalf of my favourite scrapbook shop) and I'm going to collect them today!
3. I went to Jhb yesterday to meet with our head office about "resource allocation" and I realised how undervalued I am and how little they know about me and my potential. This is a very good thing. Now I feel I can say "goodbye" AND "good riddance" (to head office, that is, I am still very attached to many of the people, and will probably be doing work with the East London office). It was really tough on me yesterday, like REALLY tough, but today I'm realising how I SO needed that. I repeat (for my self): this is a very good thing. I can feel it!
4. We're having a party. We're having a party. Invited lots of people and have no idea who's coming. Just lost track in a totally non-Virgo way. But that's ok. So sorry that some of our faraway friends and family aren't coming, but I've decided to put up a board for "absent friends" (tnx for inspiration, Heidi). Something a little quirky, eh? Totally unlike (the former) me, but I'm learning how to have fun.
5. I'm getting my first ever manicure today. Pressie from my lovely friend, Ali.
6. My mom and dad are looking after my tiny Ant today. Together. And doing my shopping for the party (a jolly long list). Together. And when I went to bed last night, they were drinking sherry. Together. Now, don't get me wrong. I don't want them to be "together" (in that old-fashioned euphemistic way), it's just so much easier for me when they just act like old friends. Because that's really what they are. There's some screwed up history, most of which I have little knowledge of and don't need know, but really, there's a lost friendship somewhere in there. It makes me feel good to think about that.
7. I got a call from Ali this morning, saying she loves the "crusty-communist flashing shoes" the boys are wearing today. They're gaudy and way too big for them, but they've got lights! They blink when the boys jump or walk or run. So much of this will be done today. Tee hee.
8. There was something really silly the boys said in the car this morning, but for the life of me, I can't remember what it was. It had a really cute rhyme. When I remember, or more likely, when Gareth remembers, I'll blog it.
So, there's a bunch of really random things. Just cos.
NOTE: This was Friday's post, emailed to blogger, but somehow got lost in the "tubes". Will be posting an update soonest.

twins - free to a good home

already have good vocab, almost house-trained and sleeping through the night
nutrition required: fish & chips, month's supply included
very entertaining and have many party tricks to entertain friends (possible
money-spinner)
best to go separately, as they tend to malfunction if together
both have violent outbursts, but regular experiments have shown that this is
due to proximity to other twin or to birth-mother (or both)
please apply in writing. packaging and postage covered by seller

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so much to say... so little wine

I've been reading another of Mom's wonderful emails (check link on left to
her blogspot), and it makes me want to write. Good writing begets good
writing (in more ways than one, eh?) Not that my writing's good, it's just
writing... And it's good for me.
I want to write about my Don't Come Monday letter (as in don't come 1st
Oct), and what my plans are about it. I want to write about my upcoming trip
to the UK and the planning for the Aus trip next year (The Wedding is on 7th
April). I want to tell you about our pending party. I want to write about my
children's foot and mouth ailments (notsobad!) I want to write about dreams
and desires and destinies. I want to write about two beautiful (in
completely different ways) books I'm reading (The Lovely Bones and The Joy
Diet). But for now, I shall tell you this:
Robertson's Ruby Cabernet (2005) is a wonderful wine. It's R18.95 at
Prestons, so definately a quaffer, but the second sip is better than the
first and the second glass better than the first and the second bottle...
you get the picture. It helps me solve my problems so well - the next
morning I've forgot the solutions, but that's ok, because I've forgotten the
problems (which is the ultimate solution). And I can get three CASES for the
price of a visit to my shrink ("cognitive therapy including play"), although
the medical aid rates do not include alcohol for medicinal purposes.
Dang, my 8 o'clock's here (at 8.24). Latah.
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in the car, this morning

Matt: (yelling something incomprehensible with a slight tune)
Tim: do you know another song? a jungle song?
Matt: yes: WOLF JUNGLE (loud, kinda like this: wolf JUUUNNNGGGGGULLLLLL)
pause
Tim: why is it such a short song?
Matt: umm.
Tim: it's a very short song
Matt: no. wolfjungle wolfjungle wolfjungle wolfJUUNNNNGGGULLLLL
Tim: ok
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now check this...

Saw Dr Edeling this morning, and she's "chuffed" with outcome of op. I'm
seeing 4 lines further down on the chart and the cornea is clear (from
infection etc). I'm still not seeing better overall because of eyestrain
compensating for sore eye & still light sensitive, but at least things seem
to be moving in the right direction. This is good news. And good news I
needed. I was feeling very down last night, thinking about loss of vision,
loss of independence, loss of doing things I love (working huh? scrapbooking
reading). But this is a temporary setback towards getting to a better place.
And that's good.
And we have our auditors here, finally. Which is really good, because I can
finally start planning things like my trip to the UK (November), like
leaving Mvula and (possibly) getting another job, about taking some leave
when my Dad's here. They're a nice bunch - two ex-Hudsonians and a rather
silent Gauteng-er. And they're going on a field trip next week, *sigh* and I
can relax.
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clippity-clop

East London has mounted police. Do you know that? Previously I've seen them
in Bonza Bay, much to the delight of my boys, and I've seen them on the
Esplanade after gym. But now it seems Devereux Ave in on their circuit.
Today's the second day I've heard the delightful sound of clippity-clop and
peered out my window to get a glimpse of 5 policemen and their beautiful
mounts. Love that. Such a super tingle of unreality in the sea of figures
that's my job at the moment.
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he walks!

The Ant has started walking. And he is so thrilled with himself. Well, I
don't know if I'd call it actually walking, it's more like a hybrid between
staggering and launching. It goes like this:
His mom (kneeling on the floor) puts him at arm's length from her and says
"balance... balance." which he does with great concentration, looking at his
feet. Then she says "come come, walking, my boy." He looks up with a big
grin and takes about three or four steps towards her before launching into
her arms with great giggles. Then mom sweeps him up into the air with great
glee saying "clever boy, clever boy" to which he grins more and claps his
hands.
While writing this, I have a great grin on MY face... Such a sweet little
thing. This is good because I have auditors (relaxed) and a Financial
Director (spinning) with me today.
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cuddles with Tim

Now Timmy-Tiger is usually just a ball of energy, hardly able to sit down
for longer than about 10 minutes (even rivetted to Sinbad Sailing The Seven
Seas, he has to climb the couch and would swing from the chandeliers if we
had any). Recently he's taken to sneaking into my bed in the night. Now when
it's 3.15, I get a little annoyed (cos Ant's sleeping through and Tim's feet
are really really cold). But when it's 5.15 (the alarm goes off at 5.20)
then we're all cuddles. Tim keeps still for long enough for us to cuddle and
tickle and giggle. It's too marvelous. And this morning, I had that terrible
sense that one day he's not going to want the cuddles... so I must get in
all I can now.
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pirate (for a day & a half)

Eye op went fine on Wednesday (a little "fixup" of my corneal graft, left
eye, for those who didn't know...) The anethetist was rather sneaky... said
he was checking the IV and I awoke an hour & a half later. Very sneaky.
Didn't even get to count back from 100 to 97 like normal. Doctor is v happy
with outcome of op, although I can't see any better (wasn't expected, but a
little hope always remains!) Now she gets to pull out stitches here & there
to get the vision right. Looking forward to seeing better.
I think the most interesting was noting the reaction of my kids... Ant was
puzzled and didn't recognise me with my patch on. For about 10 minutes. Then
I couldn't get him away from it. Tim was like: "what's that?" then rushed
off to do his own thing, in a kinda "I'm sure she's going to be all right"
way. Now Matt. He wanted know EXACTLY what the doctor had done, where the
stitches were, what happened to my eye "in the beginning" and when (if) the
patch was going to come off. And he wanted to kiss it. A lot. And touch it.
Sweetie.
I've had much love while being one-eyed. I've got calls from China (the
happy travellers were actually standing on the Great Wall of China when the
called me), sms's from Australia, UK, Cape Town. My family's rallied. It's
been good. And I got to nap in the day. Wonderful.
Alas! back at work already, with auditors arriving (finally!) at 8am on
Monday.
--
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going grey gracefully

I always swore I'd go grey gracefully. That I would take it in my stride and
just accept it. Alas. My scalp is stinging and my shoulders are sore, from
trying to get out the grey (white?) in the bathroom at work. It's really
frustrating, cos they're easy to see (they are shorter and have a different
texture, kinda kinky), but so hard to get a hold of. Perhaps it's my bad
vision (attempts to fix it starting Wed this week), perhaps it's my
inability to operate in reverse in a mirror, or perhaps it's just fate. I
think I managed to get about three (got them out with folicle tags, so CSI
team can find out, with proof, who's going grey ungracefully in this
office), and managed to pull out about 5 others that weren't grey.
--
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God-moments

I've had a couple of "there is a God" moments today. Once this morning, in
the haste and hecticness that is our early mornings, I struggled (as usual)
to lock our front door, carrying my gym bag & my handbag (mercifully, G had
carried everything else to the car, including three boy-bodies). I banged
and bashed and threw down my stuff in a huff, got it locked and swung around
on my smooth-soled shoes and thought about how irritable and irritating I
was. I looked up and saw the moon. Full and bright in the just-bluing
morning sky. And my first thought, well, not really a "thought" as such,
more like a "know" was: There is a God.
The other one was when I was listening to the radio on the way to work. An
Enrique (not my favourite) song came on, which has a line "You can run, you
can hide, but you can't escape my love" and it made me think again "There is
a God and he loves me". And his love is not like Enrique's, that expects
something in return. Like a trapping-kind of love. It's more a liberating
kind. You don't have do anything about it. You can choose to see it, or not.
But it's there.
Now, if you know me WELL, like I think only about, let's see, perhaps ONE of
you, then you'll know that most of my God-thoughts are usually in the region
of "Is there a God" or "Perhaps there's a God". Even in the height of my
Christianism, these were thoughts going on in my head. Those times were way
more about belonging that authenticity.
I hoping for more of these God-moments. They're especially good.
--
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Finding myself as a mother

I know that sounds super serious, or perhaps super introspective, but it's not actually... Today when I dropped the boys off at school, things slowly spiralled out of control. I think there's a certain dynamic of how the boys at the school interact, and if they get dropped off in a certain order (or in a certain mood?) things spin out of control. Today, one boy arrived with a toy AK47 (not a good start), which got my boys in a frenzy, cos they don't see these much (at all!) Ali managed to confiscate it without too much fuss (this is a son of 2x doctors, surely they know better? or they just too tired?) Then Spiderman arrived, and with his mask on, he's invincible, or so he thinks. Promptly beat up a couple of boys, and just missed running over some girls (mostly because they were either on the swings or hiding behind Ali. Then another (normally very sweet boy) points a plastic-but-awefully-real-looking handgun at a group of three rather stunned boys (two mine). Us parents and Ali (while wiping up tears and kissing noses) start trying to reason with them... I tell Spiderman that his job is to PROTECT all his friends from the bad people, and that he's actually quite a loving action hero. Then Mother-of-Spiderman tells a gang of boys that guns are only for shooting buck and wolves (oops, this is against what my boys are taught at home, we don't shoot ANYTHING), and that we don't point guns at people. Matt walks right up to her, and says confidently: "We can use guns to protect ourselves." She's stunned, particularly as she's a lawyer, from a "famous" lawyering family in EL, and says "Well, that's a pretty legal answer."
The long and short of this rambling tale, is this: I didn't get angry. I didn't get exasperated. I (loving) repremanded my kids, using logic and their past experiences. No corporal punishment! No naughty chair or exclusion. And my kids were fine. Well, more than fine. I watched them distracting a younger boy from having a mini-meltdown about his mom leaving, by sharing their (slightly dysfunctional family of) lions with him. Adda boys!
And I kissed a nose (of boy with handgun), talked Spiderman down from a ledge and had a serious discussion with a tiny-tiny little girl (who I've never heard say anything before this than "ja"). Also reassured Mom-of-Spiderman that she's ok. And boys will be what boys will be.

dramatic dreamin'

A mad mix of medicine. Yip. That's me at the moment. I have eye drops, nose-spray, anti-biotics, sinus tablets, an asthma pump, anti-depressants and tranquillisers (oh, and a week-long sick note, which I'm not using to its full potential!). If there's anything you need, I've probably got it in my handbag (and I won't charge you an admin fee). Perhaps this, or maybe Martha Beck's "Leaving the Saints" or even CSI last night gave me a very long night of alternating bad dreams and periods of wakefulness.
At last, the alarm went off, Gareth pressed the snooze button and I fell into the deepest sleep I'd had the whole night. And had the most magnificent dream (in full colour, specifically: green, various shades of pink and grey). It *almost* erased the memories of all the bad dreams. I won't share the full details here, but two things stuck out to me... In part of the dream, I was driving our whole family in a 4x4 across some seriously treacherous terrain. I was having a lot of trouble staying on the road. Gareth was watching the scenery ahead (a gorge with a river running through it, a downy-green mountain across the ravine and a pink & grey sunrise). He urged me to slow down and look at the scenery. I couldn't. I had to watch two metres ahead of me and concentrate really hard, just to stay on the road and keep us all safe. But he kept telling me the amazing views ahead. And I thought, that's ok, I can't really look ahead at the moment, because I'm concentrating on keeping me (us) on the road. And I've got Gareth to tell me about the beautiful things that are ahead (we did stop and walk further on and I got to enjoy the view). The other thing I was so sure of (at the end of the dream and in my waking), in feeling and in knowing, was that there is a God and he knows what he's doing. I haven't felt that kind of peace in a long while. In fact, I can't remember ever feeling that so strongly.
OK, now I know this is heavy stuff, but I needed to share. Partly just to remind myself that it was real. And those of you who know what's going on in my life at the moment, might just get a tiny glimpse of really relevant this dream is. But also, partly to remind myself, now and down the line, when things get more rocky, that even though I need to keep my eyes on the road, I have a man in my life who keeps telling my how good the scenery is and what beauty lies is ahead.

on being a mom of boys...

<slightly soppy alert>
These thoughts have very much been me for the last couple of weeks. I bumped into an old(ish) school mate who has just had a baby boy - her second babe, first boy. She said: "boys hold a special place in mommy's heart" to which I answered: "yes, I'm in love with all three of mine" and really meant it. It's amazing how such truth comes out from a spontaneous response. Yes, I'm in love with my boys. It means I take the bad with the good. I get angry but it doesn't make me love them any less. I tell them how I'm feeling, even if I'm sad or grumpy, cos that'll make better men out of them. Then it got me thinking about that "special place" and I think I've worked it out. When I look at my boys, I see a bit of my dad and a bit of Gareth. These are the
two men I love most in the whole world. No wonder I'm in love with these gorgeous boys of mine. And I've got a lot of lovin' to give. Endless capacity.

some classics from the terrible twins

Shupiwe looked after the twins on Saturday - Gareth got to go to rugby unencumbered and I went to scrapbooking with only one handicap. She sent me this email on Tuesday...

 

 Here are my memories from babysitting Matt and Tim this weekend:

 

Matt on surfing:

Shupiwe: “Matthew if you hit your brother, Emma won’t teach you how to surf:

Matthew: “I don’t want to learn how to surf:

Shupiwe: “Why not Matt?”

Matthew: “Because you fall over. I don’t like falling over”

 

Latah………… Matt on Bakkie’s:

Matthew: “Shapiwe you are making me angry”

Shupiwe: “Why Matt?”

Matthew: “Just because. If you make me angry you cannot come in my bakkie”

Shupiwe (puzzled): “What bakkie Matt?”

Matthew: “I don’t need Emma to teach me how to surf. I am going to teach myself to surf. I am going to have a bakkie with four surf boards. One for me and one for you shapiwe and one for Tim”

Shupiwe (puzzled again): “Matt, who will use the fourth board?”

Matthew: “Umm…. Emma”

 

Latah Latah…………… Tim on Surfing:

Tim: “Shapiwe, Emma can teach ME how to surf”

Shupiwe: “Ok Tim. I will tell her.”

Tim: “But only when I am 43”

Shupiwe: “That might be difficult Tim. Emma will be about 70 then. And maybe you could start surfing when you are younger?”

Tim: “OK. When I am 65”

 

Latah latah latah………………….Tim on Love:

Tim: “Shapiwe I love you sooooooo many millions:

Shupiwe: “I love you too Tim. Who else do you love?”

Tim: “Ummm…… Emma.”

Shupiwe: “Do you love her millions?”

Tim: “No. Soooooo many millions”

 

 And lastly, Tim on Taiwan:

Tim: “Shapiwe do you live in Taiwan?”

Shupiwe: “No, Tim, I have told you before I live in Vincent. I was just visiting Emma in Taiwan”

Tim: “Does Grannie live in Taiwan now?”

Shupiwe (much laughter): “No Tim…..”

Tim: “So she is also visiting Emma’s hood?”

Shupiwe (dying with laughter now): “Yes Tim, Grannie is visiting Emma’s hood”

 

BTW our agenda (which is becoming a theme now – goes along with the endless ground rules….. terrible twins set both with some coercion..) for Saturday consisted of: 1. Puzzles, 2. Going to Cintsa to buy icing, 3. Making iced marie biscuits, and 4. Watching a video – we got to item 2 then they passed out! Must be the Buffalo they got at Cintsa for drinking their juice with their left hand. The receptionist (Unathi) forced them to down their juice! Or maybe the forced “last one to the beach is a rotten goose” made them pass out in the car on the way home……… We eventually iced biscuits – icing everywhere and Tim somehow gave us the instructions to making black icing! Lots of fun and lots of icing everywhere….. on their faces, on the table, on me, on their clothes,on Anthony…….

Conversations with Matt in the morning

"why is this plant in your bathroom, mom" (just moved one of mom's potplants into my bathroom),
"cos it's nice there, matt, and it's from granny's hood and needs water"
"oh" he says "do you like green, mom"
"yes, it's my favourite colour"
"and purple's your favourite colour too"
"oh, is it? gosh, i didn't know that"
"yes!" he says "and pink too. all girls like pink"
I'm starting to say, "no not me, i don't have any pink clothes..." (etc) but he's now concentrating on weeing standing up (not easy to talk & aim)

What a child needs...

Saw this today on a blog (we have new super-fast internet now, do they really expect me to work??):
I’d like to make the case that the most important thing fathers can do for their children is to love their mother. And likewise, among the many things mothers do for their children, one of the most important is that mothers love their children’s father.
Donno who said it, but it's one I've seen before. Well, the first part. How could they leave out the second part?
Good stuff to see on a day such as this (for us).

A Most Magnificent Marriage

Today, we celebrate 10 years of a Most Magnificent Marriage. Amazing. And I love Gareth more today than I ever have. How cool is that? I'm feeling on top of the world. I think today is a RED day. And that's good. 10 reasons why I think we have a magnificent marriage:
1. We're best friends
2. We can talk. About anything. Without ever worrying that we're going to be judged.
3. We're great lovers. And it's the small things that count here. Like an sms or an affectionate gesture when the other isn't expecting it.
4. We have made three gorgeous, intelligent, sensitive and secure children.
5. We're good parents. We complement each other to create an environment with clear boundaries and lots of love. And we're team players in this arena.
6. We understand and compensate for each others' weaknesses.
7. We have similar tastes. In movies, in furniture, in food.
8. We have a lot in common. We like doing the same things, like going to the beach and enjoying nature.
9. We love each other. Of this, I'm sure.
10. We allow for the other's independence.
So, to you guys out there: I wish for you even one tenth of what we have. And you'll be happy!

just a quote

I love this one:
"The more I give myself permission to live in the moment and enjoy it,
without feeling guilty or judgmental about any other time, the better I feel
about the quality of my work." (Wayne Dyer)
Carpe Diem
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Live Consciously

I've been thinking (quite a lot) recently about how my life seems to be a
treadmill. A rat race. And sometimes I want to press the pause button (and
frequently the "undo" button). I am aware that my life seems to be passing
by in a rush, and I'm not even noticing the scenery. So, I'm making a
conscious effort to live. Or rather, to live consciously. To be aware of
people around me. To be aware of myself and how I function in my space. To
be acutely aware of how I feel about things - what makes me happy (do more)
and what makes me sad (avoid, if possible).
Is this strange? I don't care. I'm going to do it. I'm going to live
consciously.
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A bit bleak this morning...

Although we had an excellent weekend - I got to scrapbook, we released our
children (all 3!) to Sue for Sat night and half of Sun, I managed (with
Sue's help) to make a good Chinese meal, and other random good things - I'm
feeling a bit bleak. I can't stand this amorphous bleakness, and so spend a
lot of time trying to figure it out. Could it be:
- getting to work to a deskful of paper and no desire to do anything with
any of it?
- being another two staff down (farewell to Lundi & Mzwanele on Friday)?
- three months feeling like a very long time to hang in here (but hang in
here I must)?
- attempting to self-medicate with a bacon & egg sarmi & a packet of chips
(I KNOW it doesn't work!)?
- a general atmosphere (at work) of unreasonableness and inefficiency?
- plain ole simple Monday blues?
- a combination of all? (most likely)
Now that I've analysed it (to an extent), now I work at beating it.

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Matt says:

We went to Hamburg this weekend. The Fords needed to see Mom and I need to
see "The House that Frank Built" - his kit house that I'm doing some
drawings and an instruction manual for. On the way, Matt asks if all his
friends are going to be there. About three months ago, we went to Hamburg
with Ali & stayed in her brother's place. Ali's friend, Karen was there,
with her four kids and one of their friends. So with those kids and Ali's,
that made SEVEN kids for Matt and Tim to follow around. They loved it. Alas,
Ali and "all Matt's friends" were not going to be there. So, when we go
there and got ourselves settled into unit 12 (a single bed one, quite a way
from Ali's), Matt says "please can we go to Hamburg?" But Matt, this IS
Hamburg. "No, the real Hamburg. We want to go to Ali's... um... Ali's...
Ali's property!"
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Towards training....

My job with Mvula is (in all probability) going to end in September... While
this has caused me much stress and anxiety, I am finding more and more that
this is SO a good thing. Heidi said to let go of "Mvula's apron-strings"
(paraphrased), which hit a cord cos it's so true. Melanie said "you have to
give up the life you have to get the life that's waiting for you." I could
work hard at making a bed for myself at Mvula. There's some potential, and
some Head Office staff have expressed interest in some of my skills, but why
use up energy doing that? When I could use that energy creating something
more myself which is way more enjoyable, more flexible and more rewarding...
So, I'm on a mission to become a trainer. I know this is what I actually
want to do. I have education in my genes, but not the patience and
noise-threshold required to be a teacher. Adult education appeals to me, and
the little I've done, I've enjoyed. Now, my mission is to find the training
content that I'm passionate about.
I've got a meeting with a friend's husband tomorrow - he owns a company that
offers corporate training, and has expressed interest in having me on board
(on contract). This is promising (but I must beware of jumping at the first
opportunity...) Wish me luck!
Other news: Our big boys have emerged from the rotavirus fairly unscathed,
albeit a bit thinner (or taller, as some people have noticed). Gareth & I
are still exhausted, and Anthony is puzzled by what all the fuss was about.
Granny leaves for Jhb tomorrow, first leg of the long journey to Taiwan. I
think she gets there mid-next week. I'm trying not to think about the hole
she'll leave here, but rather about the space she'll fill in Emma's
"Communist" world.
And: no internet at work, awaiting an ADSL from Telkom (their target is 31
Aug, altho we ordered it some weeks ago!) Hence the silence on the
blog-side. I'm attempting an email to blog here...
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Somewhat shitty day

Up all night with two sick boys. Matt & Tim have rotavirus. Golly. And now my day at work's gone pear-shaped, when I planned to be in here for a few hours. Oh well. Counting my blessings:
- Gareth can be with the boys today (by some unusual timetabling luck)
- the world isn't falling out of our bottoms (me & G, that is)
- got some gorgeous pics of Em, rocking the Chinese world, this morning
- the sun's shining

this makes me happy: my love returned

i pick up my usually-grumpy kitty this morning, and give him a good ole love. like serious lovin'. usually he'd just squirm out and go and sit by his bowl and give me this mournful look: "love me? feed me." this morning though, he loved back. he squashed himself against me and stuck his wet nose under my chin and purred and purred. it was lovely. in fact, it was bloody marvelous. and got me thinking (like most things do, these days...):
i love that matt lies in the bed next to me and holds my face in his hands and kisses me. and says "mommy, i'm kissing you" (just in case i'm actually as asleep as i look)
i love that tim says "love you, mom" and when i say "love you more, boy" he just grins a great big satisfied grin
i love that my amazing husband sends me a sms on an ordinary day that says "love you and missing you"
i love that my little ant jumps up and down in excitement, waving his arms and giving me his best 6-tooth grin when kiss him
aaah. this is good.

i feel good (da-da da-da da-da)

Today's a good day. Could it be:
- a good night's sleep and tea in bed?
- driving my brand new (to me) car?
- a great gym session?
- breakfast of vanilla yoghurt & Nature's Source Lite & Crispy?
- feeling productive and of value at work?
- getting a "that's the best news I've had all day" response to my "I love you" sms to my favourite person (aka Gareth)?
The first and the last are probably the biggest influence on this seratonin-sunny day...
Have a happy day, all!

Matt says:

"You didn't fetch us from school, Mom. Did you get stuck in a meeting? Was there a door on the meeting? Was it closed? Couldn't you open it?"
I just have to smile at this logic...
The last few days have been pretty tough. Gareth's been sick (but not in any way pathetic, like other wives say their husbands can be). Ant's still teething grumpily. The big boys have started fighting again, after a couple of weeks of respite. And I'm hardly coping. With the stresses of work. With difficult children. With my own attitude. I feel like I need a holiday, away, far away (and I won't pack my present attitude!). I'm planning such a thing, but at the moment, it's still dependent on the elusive audit programme, which is stressing me further...

finally... fotos

"Can I climb up here, mom?" "Sure, boy."

"They're so lovely!"

"Mom... Mom! Here. Cheese!"

I would post some lovely pictures, but...

I can't get either Imageshack or Blogger Upload Images to work. Any other suggestions for hosting? What do you use?

Happy shrink-time

Went to see my shrink again today. Just a routine visit. And it was brilliant. We talked like equals, discussed the subtleties of drugs, placebo-effect and therapy. Had some laughs. I think if you're able to laugh with your shrink, you're on the mend (if you're seeing him for depression, that is).
I have a feeling this is going to be a good day... This evening, I'm taking the boys to a "reading" by Gcina Mhlophe, a well-known South Africa author (so I've been told). And I'm doing it because I WANT to, not because I should, need to or have to. Cool, hey?

Fun on the farm

We got to the family farm this weekend... Just this side of Aliwal, a very long journey when you've three children and only a family-sized car (as opposed to a 7-seater). Some rather nifty driving from My-Man-in-6-Billion got us through the clay/mud/rained-on farm road by about 7pm on Friday. The big boys watched much rugby, the little boys totally loved the sheep and the girls (mostly) ate choc cake. Alas, no snow, but boy, it was pretty chilly. Photos to follow...

Big

Sometimes life just gets way too big. You know what I mean? Like, at the moment, the fact that international auditors are coming to audit our 4-year, R45million programme in 2 weeks time is... well, BIG. I have way too much weight to lose, and that's BIG. I have three beautiful boys, who need a sane and semi-organised mom (or is that semi-sane and organised?), and that's BIG. And they're not even at "real" school yet, when they'll need lunchboxes and afternoon schedules. My husband assures me he's happy, with everything, except his job, and that's BIG. My baby sister's getting married to her ABF (Australian BoyFriend) in less that a year's time, and that's way BIG.
Oh, boy. This is definitely a find-some-vanilla-yoghurt-and-drink-as-much-as-you-can day. Today is just way too BIG.
Edited to Add As a testament to how this day is getting to me: I managed to leave my silver credit card in the ATM. I think my brain's reached saturation point.

funny things you say

In the car this morning, while Gareth's singing "Fearless as the Eagle" (once again), Matt says: "Is "Nentando Superabis" the name of the eagle?"
...and...
Ant has started this very cute thing... he tilts his head onto his shoulder and grins, to charm you. And it works. We call it "COY". Yesterday, Tim explains to Gareth what "coy" means... "Coy means put your head to the side."

Bright sunshiney day

It's the most glorious day here. Just superb. This morning on the beachfront, I was just soaking it in. The fresh sunlight off the sea in the morning is just one of my most favourite things. Pity I had a personal trainer at me (in the nicest possible way) and a pair of 3kg dumbells. Still managed to enjoy the view and the air.
Now I'm in the office. I so so don't want to be here. I'm thinking about all the possibilities of getting out of this. There are many, and all take a great amount of courage.

Saying goodbye

We saw Kath and Deano off at the airport on Sunday. It was heart-wrenching. But the amazing thing, was watching the boys saying goodbye and then expressing their feelings. Matt was particularly expressive, saying: "I'm so so sad. Because Kathy and Deano always go away from me." Later, when were discussing how rockets launch from launch pads and aeroplanes from runways (they ask these things... shesh!), he said "A plane's got wheels for the ruway. The plane goes up up in the air, then it comes down again. And brings Kathy and Deano back to us."
We so enjoyed having them here. To meet the new addition to the family (Hi Deano!) But saying goodbye was really hard! (Photo taken with my phone... had to catch it.)

De-schlump in 3 (quite) easy steps

1. Sad puppy eyes at boss
Well, I didn't actually. Not my style. But perhaps me just being in his office this morning made him feel guilty that he hadn't done anything to help me get my leave. So he worked out a strategy for our "back pockets" when we meet the auditors. Perhaps getting them to schedule their audit programme around my leave (unbeknownst to them, of course). He's saying it'll be ok. I'm not trying to get too excited about it, and I'm certainly not going to pay for our tickets yet.
2. Gym
Went back to gym for the first time in 5 weeks. Was magnificent and devastating. I am in pain. Good pain.
3. Retail Therapy
I popped into a SBing shop on the way home from gym and spent almost as much time in there as I did at gym. And spent almost as much money. I think there's a little more worth for my money than gym too. Gorgeous stuff! (SEI's "Granny's Kitchen" line, if you're interested!)

Schlump

I've hit a schlump. I'm not sure if it's that Kath & Deano have left, and we so LOVED having them here. Or that my leave for June/July to go to Aus is not looking very good. Or that I really, really want to leave this job. I've been riding a wave for a couple of weeks now, and it seems it's just dumped me. And now I have to use that damn CBT (that I'm absolutely no good at) to pick myself up and carry on.
The thing to convince myself, is to LIVE IN THE MOMENT. This moment doesn't seem so great because I'm thinking forward too much. Just relax. Tidy my desk. Don't think about food (can only eat it in the future, anyway, cos I've eaten my healthy packed lunch already). Write a to-do list (of work things, that can be accomplished TODAY). I can do this.

It's Granny's birthday today!

Kerry: What would Granny like for her birthday? Shall we buy her a present?
Matt: What about trucks, Mom?
Kerry: Trucks? Well, do you see Granny playing with trucks?
Matt: Um no. But I could.
Kerry: No, Matt. We're buying presents for Granny. It's HER birthday. What does Granny like?
Matt: Mince. Mince and noodles.
Kerry: Ah. Ok. Anything else?
Tim: WINE! Granny likes wine.
Kerry: Good idea, Timmo. We'll get her some wine. What does Granny like doing? Could we get her something that she likes doing?
Tim: WINE! She likes drinking wine.
Kerry: Yes, she does. Anything else?
Matt: She likes playing with Ant. Can we get her a mom with a baby in her tummy? Can we get her one of those?
Kerry: Um (thinking hard about the significance of this...) I'm not sure that this shop will have any of those Barbie dolls, Matt. Anything else?
Matt: DINOSAURS! Granny likes playing with dinosaurs. We could get dinosaurs and trees and animals. And we could play with them. When is it our birthday, Mom?

So much to say, so little time

I've got so much to say today. About a very good visit to my psychologist, about that my BABY sister is freshly engaged to a "man from down-under" (and how we have tested him and approved), about how I'm learning how important it is to have great girlfriends (yes, that's you: Heidi, Ali, Kim, Kirsty, Katie, Natalie), about how I'm angsting about finding "the very most rightest of right schools" for the boys next year... But instead, I thought I'd share with you Emma's new calling. She interprets dreams.
My dream is about some of those I love most. About my Dad (aka international-man-of-mystery), who is from "the west coast of Ireland" and is "wild and wonderful" (she didn't mention anything about savages). About my "shallow surfer-Em" sister (her words), who could be surfing 100ft waves off Peru (if she wasn't in Taiwan, I suppose). And she has broken 2 boards in 2 months, so perhaps I'm a little worried about those foreign waves. About my Mom, who I can actually picture as a queen in a red dress with popping buttons. I remember having great affection for this queen, and we tried to sew her buttons back on together (I had a needle pinned onto the inside of my jacket). About my ultimate dream, sailing around the world (although sailing a 4-mast'd galleon with a bunch of drunk sailors ain't part of that, I assure you. Too much hard work - the sailing and the sailors). And she mentioned Gareth in the connection with the gun (& silencer). I'll let you figure that one out. James, can you fix him, even if you're a little drunk?
Edited to Add: Ah, I'm getting a picture of the savages. They're about three feet tall and very noisy.

Matt & I do battle for my personal space

Last night, I had a tantrum. When I'm tired and sick (as opposed to simply sick and tired, which I am most of the time), I need my personal space. Like really. I was alone with the boys last night (Ant asleep), and they just wanted to sit on me. What is it about this? They're THREE, for heaven's sake. And there's two of them. Well, I just couldn't handle it. I moved from chair to chair, from room to room, until Matthew was in an absolute state, following me, his blanket dragging Linus-style behind him. He said "Mom, don't go away." Then, he used the best weapon ever: "Mom, please can I go to the toilet? Please watch me." How can I deny him this (especially with TWO "pleases")? Then I'm thinking... did he really need the loo, or is he just way too clever? Well, that diffused things, at least.
Story- and bedtime were uneventful (sigh). They were both asleep by 7.45, and me by 8.30. This morning, Matt gave me a big hug. When I said I was sorry for being so grumpy last night, he said "I am so sad when you're grumpy, Mom. Can I sit on your lap and watch Brother Bear?"

Dreamy

I awoke this morning totally unrested. I dreamt a great dream, all vivid and slightly off-centre. I sailed in a four-mast'd galleon around the world at the beginning of last century, dined with queens in red dresses and popping buttons, had my ancient gun (with modern silencer) re-assembled by James ("I am drunk, but I can do it.") in preparation for meeting the savages on the west coast of Ireland and watched surfers surfing 100 foot waves on the coast of Peru. Wild and wonderful. No wonder I am exhausted. It's a lot to do between quieting Tim from a bad dream (perhaps hereditary) at 11.30pm and giving Ant his bottle at 4.20am. I wonder if it's my drugs, or the fact I had 2 Corenza C's and about 4 glasses of red wine before I went to bed.
NtS: Do this again. It's really adds an interesting twist to a somewhat routine existence.

Bhisho

I went to an interview for a "Deputy Director" position in Social Development in Bhisho on Monday. (Now: I dare you to say Bhisho, pronouncing the first "haytch" without sounding as breathless as the pace of Bhisho isn't.) I got there at 10.45 for an 11.30 interview, mostly because I didn't have the foggiest where the interview was. I found it in just under 14 seconds, because I was told it's the "tallest building in Bhisho". There are only about 6 buildings, and this one was most certainly the tallest, and there was a half-full car park right outside it. Finding Room 138 was more of a challenge. When I got there, I met an exceptionally dapper-dressed young man, full of nervous energy, who had been waiting since 8.00 for his 8.30 interview. And two other waitees, both with resigned composures.
I was interviewed by a panel of 6 at 1.30. It was short and to the point. They didn't seem to want to know much about me. Which was good, cos I gush when I'm nervous. I thought they were hurrying the interview up to catch up time by brushing my attempts at finding out more about the actual job, but mom said they probably didn't know any more than I did. On chatting with some others in the "know", she is most certainly right. One of the labour relations / union representatives nodded knowingly and comfortingly throughout the interview. I liked her.
Now I'm playing another waiting game. I don't suspect I'll get it, mostly because I think these positions are all earmarked, and the advertising-interview process is a coverup. But now I can't stop thinking about the what ifs. If I get this position, the decision to take it has so many implications. Travel, money, security, stability, family life, stress, work ethic. It's so hard to STOP thinking about it until I hear something from them (or don't). Like just SHUT UP, brain. I'm playing with the possibilities of consulting. Of teaching. Of taking a break for a couple of months (thanks Dad, I hadn't thought about that option, and now it's my favourite). Of clinging to Mvula, for what it's worth. Of marketing myself out there in the big bad world.
I think this is what I need at the moment. Time to reassess where I am. To work out where I'll be "safe and happy".
Right now, I just want to get on the beach with a good book and an umbrella. The weather is marvellous (bring on winter in the Eastern Cape!) and we're off to Hamburg tomorrow for three days. Yay.

Nkosi

Tim suddenly started singing Nkosi Sikelel' in the car the other day. It was unprompted, and totally natural. He was not looking for a reaction out of me, I think he just likes it. His little voice, his accent, his (very) slight mispronounciations and his perfect pitch just melted my heart. I got pretty choked up. Then he said, "Mom, sing Sarah and Nuzo's song" (they sing it at school, and Sarah and Nuzo obviously take the lead). We then discussed how it's all of our song. It's Africa's song. It's Mom's song and Dad's song, and Matt's song, and even Ant's song. It's Matthew Mangold's song, it's Ali's song, it's Bryce's song, it's EVERYONE's song. They liked that.
Then this morning, Matt says to Gareth, "Sing your school song, Dad." Tim had been singing Nkosi Sikelel' again, so we assumed he meant that. Gareth says, no, that's the National Anthem, but we do sing it at school. So Matt says, "Sing the one about the eagle." So we did. I was amazed that I remember most of it. We sang it again and again. It was delightful.
Guess what I'm humming this morning? I am just so politically correct! http://www.anc.org.za/misc/nkosi.html

Where I'm at

I'm finally over a bad bout of brochitis, which I managed to get much worse than any of my boys did. For once, I "looked after myself" by going to the doctor (driving into town on a Sat because I didn't make time during the week), allowing him to prescribe me some anti-biotics, and actually taking them. It took way too long to get better, probably because I didn't let myself stay home from work.
Our programme has come to an end. Officially. Although, the work isn't actually finished. I'm still paying contractors, tidying up paperwork and preparing for the audit. This weekend I felt so strange, like it was the "end of an era". I think I'm feeling myself move on from Mvula, just waiting for the right time and the right opportunity.
I am expending a lot of emotional energy helping a friend get through a tough time in her life. I know I extend myself a little too much in this department, but I just want to help in whatever way I can. Helping her see what she's worth, that she is loved, that (at least) I'm there whenever she needs me, that she's NOT a bad person. And it's good, actually, to focus outside of your family every now and again. We're developing a really good friendship, and we both need it.
I'm on the up myself (although it probably doesn't seem like it, looking at what I've written above...) I think my drugs are kicking in. I'm starting to see the sun more than the clouds. I'm working on a scrapbook album about me, and what's good about me (remember fellow-challengers: ABC of me. Do it!) I'm starting to talk more freely about depression and how I'm learning to live with it, flow with it, make decisions with it in mind. It's good. And good for others to hear.
Mom's finally back from 10 days in Jhb & Durbs. I've missed her. Haven't had enough time to connect yet, perhaps this evening, as we wait for KATH TO ARRIVE. I'm so excited about seeing Kathr, I'm nearly bursting out of my skin. You know that feeling like your heart might pop out your chest if you don't reign it in.
We've been giving potty-training a second try, and it's working well. I think it's a subject for another (long, option-read) post. It's been SO interesting watching the different ways our boys are handling it, and so freeing to know that we can't actually control them and their responses. Only ours.
And lastly, and the opposite-of-leastly, my Gareth is so good to me. He's given me space and time to do the things I've needed to. Like rest. Like scrapbook. Like see friends. Like sleep. He's taken charge of the boys and has gallantly rolled with our rather unpredictable life. And reminded me daily that he loves me. I don't remember a time I was more in love with him than right now.

Excerpt from Email Emma

You know, I'm also on a "I am grateful" kick... Grateful to have 3 beautiful boys (seriously beautiful), the most amazing husband in the WHOLE world, grandparents to my boys who are so hands-on and uncomplicated, a Momsie who's a good friend and a hoot at that, a father who phones me often, and two beautiful, clever, darling sisters. You can't get it better.

Belated Birthday News

The boys had an Easter cake at school (chaos, but way easier for me).
And then the Bus cake Nana had made (and frozen) on Saturday. It was thoroughly yummy. They opened presents from Emma, Pops Granny and Sue. They got phone calls from Nana & Grandpa (in Cape Town), Emma, Pops, Kath, Ben and Shupiwe. They were pretty much beside themselves with delight. And slept for 3.5 hrs that afternoon. I was pretty much besides myself with delight.

Ant thought the whole thing a little tiresome.

All in a day's work

Well, a couple of days, and a bunch of years of pushing paper. Last week was a good one (workwise) for me... I got to go four of our projects. We've built a creche near Willowvale and a community hall and high school near Alice. It's so good to get out of the office, see the BEAUTIFUL country we live in and see how my work is making a difference.
The road near Willowvale:


The creche near Willowvale. I don't think these children have seen white people much. They clung to me and touched my hands and face and hair. It was LOVELY.


The community hall near Alice. It's beautiful. Really! I like the roller doors on the sides, which opens the hall wide to let air and light in, and extra people if necessary.


The high school near Alice. Here a very large, white, (obviously) beer-drinking, rugby-watching contractor told me about how when he raised the South African flag in the courtyard, the school kids broke out into the National Anthem (he said, "they even sang Die Stem"). Something is OK in this country.



And a beautiful country it is. So good to get out of this office.

See, we three

Our big boys are three today! There has been great excitement the past two weeks, counting off the days in "sleeps", checking the bus-cake in the freezer (thanks, Nana), asking about "surprises" and saying "We're going to be THREE". Matt says thrrrrree (rolling the R) and Tim has a very special way of showing three (see pic).

Last night, Gareth and I iced the cake, a delightful colour of green. Made a nest of easter eggs for the easter bunnies on the cake (they're doing Easter theme at school, so Ali's idea was perfect, and pretty painless for me, really!), blew up 20 balloons and wrapped presents.
I said to Gareth this morning... If Matt's thrrrreee and Tim's three, then that makes us parenting for 6 years. No wonder we're bloody exhausted.

DCM Letters

We (on the Gwebindlala Programme) received our DCM ("Don't Come Monday") Letters yesterday. Our programme officially ends 15th April, and we aren't to pay salaries after that. My letter had a rider: we'll be offering you a contract until end Sept. But I don't know what'll be in that. We all knew they were coming, but still it hits pretty hard. I felt kinda weird yesterday. Like I really need to move on from this place and perhaps this is now the push I need. I pulled out Monday's Dispatch and checked jobs. And was pleasantly surprised. There were at least three jobs in the paper I could apply for. Two of them didn't mention pay-packages, and one of them (I assume) is located at Addo Elephant Park, but the third was with the gvt with a nice pay package. So perhaps I'm considering a ticket on the gravy train. Just perhaps. And I might need to learn to pronounce Bhisho with the extra H.

Ant at 6 months

You're six months today, little boy, and I'm loving you more each day. I love how you smile a great big smile when I put on the light and peer over the cot at you in the mornings. I love how you're delighted to see me when I get home after work. I love the delight you show in bouncing in your jolly-jumper, and that you giggle along with us when we're laughing at your pointed toes and "highland fling". I love how you love your food. You love butternut (I know you've had it for lunch, because you're a little orange about the nose), you love porridge mixed with apple, you love it when we let you taste what we're eating (especially bovril toast!) I love that you're sitting so confidently and that you're content to sit at our feet when we're busy in the kitchen or the bathroom. And that you're sitting on your own in the bath now, splashing madly with both arms and blinking in surprise when water gets in your eyes. I love how your brothers entertain you, mimicking us with "hello, Anty" and "hello, Gorgeous" and share their toys with you. I love how you anticipate a kiss or a tickle by holding your arms tightly to your side and quivering a little. I love how you snuggle in for a hug, especially first thing in the morning. I love that you're always ready to smile, like when I get out of the shower in the morning and you're on the bed, just waiting to smile at me. I love how you're fascinated by Gizmo and Digga (although Digga gives you a fright every now and again, just by being there). I love how aware you've become of things around you (besides your brothers whirlwinding around you) - the movements of plants outside, the TV (oops!), the countryside rushing past when you're in the car, your many granny-improvised mobiles - and how you concentrate on them like you're trying to figure something out. I love how your respond to your names: "Ant", "Anty-panty", "Gorgeous" and "Baba", by turning your head and grinning. I love that my singing settles you, either on your bottle or in your cot. You stop wriggling and stare up at me with wide eyes that say "how do you do that?" I love that you've started reaching out with your arms towards me when I say "come".
I love you more than you'll know and am so grateful that you came along to complete our family.

My dream house

Last night, I visited a house.

We (mom, me, Tim & Matt) pick up the keys at the agent and let ourselves in. The house is L-shaped, with the L open at about 120 degrees, with a beautiful patio area and pool nestled into the L. The patio runs along both sides of the house, and is covered with a pergola and overgrown with red and white bougainvillea. The garden is totally overgrown and wet and dark like a Knysna forest (complete with tree ferns). The guttering looks like it's seen a couple of violent hail storms. The pool is rectangular and bright and clear and sunny.
The inside of the house is divided into two distinct areas - to the left of the entrance are the five (!) bedrooms and study. The main bedroom is enormous and at the end of the passage, facing the pool. To the right of the entrance is the open-plan lounge-diningroom-kitchen, with an outdoor eating area off the kitchen (also overlooking the pool). The rooms are dark, hideously decorated with vintage furniture and worn-out persian rugs. But the wooden floors are peeking through, waiting to be discovered.
I am entranced, and decide to make an offer immediately. I make a dash to my car to phone the agent, but alas, we've left the car open and my phone has been stolen. We leave the key in the letter box (as per instruction). I'm loving the house, but not so sure about living in this neighbourhood.

An amazingly clear and detailed dream. I just had to get it down. I dream about houses all the time, and this one, together with the complex-leveled white house opposite a harbour, are by far my favourites. I just wish I could photograph these places and email the pictures to myself.

A little cry

This morning I wasn’t strong. It’s a combination of an intense work environment (retrenchments, deadline pressures, etc), sleep deprivation (not Ant, just me) and some personal stuff. So I’m sandwiched in the back seat between my older boys (yung-un gurgling good-naturedly in the front seat) and I have a little cry. Matt says to me: “What’s wrong, mommy? Where’s your hurt?” I say, it’s in my head (ain’t that true?) and he kisses it for me. Then he says: “Is it better, mommy?” And then a little later “You’ve still got tears, mommy. Why are you sad?” And now the guilt starts. Do I always have to be strong for my children? Do I really want their first memories to be of their mommy crying in the back seat? Or will my fallibility teach them some life lesson? Or teach them sensitivity and empathy? I don’t have any childhood memories of my parents crying… perhaps that’s why I’m battling to let myself cry in front of my boys. Oh, there is so much to learn.

Latest pictures

We got a little time to fool around with the camera on the public holiday, on Wednesday. The best pic of Ant has both drool and snot, but hey, that’s part of him, isn’t it! But look at that smile and those two magnificent teeth!

And here are my three boys…

Oh, and Matt says he won't forget who Emma is... "I know she is Emma. Not Kathy." See. Tim says he wants to visit Emma in Taiwan. When, Tim? "Now, Mom." Well, now. Talk about instant gratification!
BTW, Em: Matthew wants Christmas presents for his birthday, and Tim wants car presents. I think tracksuits will be fine!

A shocking disgrace

Last night, Gareth and I (& two boys) went to a dinner party. Not usually our thing, especially when the conversation turns to the designer of a pewter gravy boat… But the disgrace is that out of the party of 10, only Gareth and I are voting today. The rest have either not registered or can’t be bothered. I am both angry and sad.

Hamburg

We went to Hamburg this weekend... a scorcher of a weekend! We spent most of the days in the pool (including Ant, who was happiest in the pool). These are pics from our last weekend at Hamburg - about 3 weeks ago. I didn't have enough hands to take pictures this weekend...

A tiny taste of the First World

I've just received this sms:
"A friendly reminder from SARS: Record your car mileage at the end of today and keep it to complete your tax return. Thank you."
Huh?

This makes me happy: seeing a beautiful place for the first time

I love travelling. I just love seeing a beautiful place for the first time. I love planning the trip (ultra-Virgo style, all the details, maps, books). I love reading my journals and looking at the photos and remembering. Some of the beautiful places from our trip to Indonesia include: Lake Toba (Sumatra), Borobadur (Java), Lake Kelimutu (Flores), so many more... OK, agreed, sometimes the actual travelling can be exhausting, frustrating, hot. But you quickly forget those things (pretty much like childbirth, you forget the bad stuff).
So here we are, planning our next trip. WE'RE GOING TO AUSTRALIA. There. It's out there. We've been swinging back and forth between ja... um... nope... um... ja. Well, the pendulum's stopped at ja, and we're going. Today I read this beautiful quote in Stacy Julian's blog (seen it before somewhere, and it's kinda a mantra I'd love to live by):
Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did do.
So throw off the bowlines, sail away from the safe harbour, catch the trade winds in your sails.
EXPLORE. DREAM. DISCOVER (I think it's Mark Twain)
And it's totally confirmed our decision to go. And now I'm excited. We have so much to do... Least of all to get passports for all three boys. Not a small exercise for South African administration (can you guess the words I can't spell?) We need to get together a huge amount of money (access bond, beware!) and I need to work on my " I don't think I can cope with 3 boys on the road" attitude. Perhaps some practice is in order. All and any advice about travelling with young children will be gratefully received (Schonkens? Adlards?)

How could I forget?

Ant has TWO teeth! First one pushed through on Friday and second one yesterday! Well done, big boy, all that gnawing has worked. Be careful you don't bite your toes now.

Ant at 5 months

Can you believe it... you're 5 months already. And boy, you've grown.

You're into 6-12 month babygro's and look like a little boy in your dungarees and t-shirt.
You still love your bath and are getting more and more adventurous. Now splashing and giggling with passion. You totally don't mind water on your face, and think it's incredibly funny when Dad baths you with your brothers.
You've started eating porridge, and at first you LOVED it, grabbing at the spoon with both hands and smearing it everywhere. Now you're like "ok, what's next" about your porridge. We've tried you on some apple, but it's a bit tart, making you pull faces and squirm.
You're sitting so well now. Still toppling every now and again, but quite steady most of the time.
You're still mimmicking lip movements for "mum-mum", "baba" and "hello". But no sounds with the lips are coming out yet (it's ok, one thing at a time)
You and Granny are getting "into the groove". You just love your granny... She's getting you into a cool daytime routine (sleeping for 2.5 hrs at mid-day), and I'm thinking the two of you are becoming inseparable.
You love been thrown into the air and giggle with such delight when Dad does it.
You're understanding things, like "bottle" (huff puff in anticipation) and "kisses" (big wide mouth smile).
You love to play "where's mommy, here she is!" and "where's Anthony, here he is!" ("peek-a-boo" just doesn't do it for us)

You're just a delight... Love you!

This makes me happy: the colour green

I love it. It's fresh. It's sophisticated. It's living. It can be warm, it can be cool. I love the colour of avos - the way they're a dark green on the outside and grade into a really cool light green in the middle. You just don't have a colour "avo", because it's about 100 different shades of green. I love the colour of kiwi fruit. I love a car that's the fresh green of granny smith apples. I love how a potplant has a million shades of green and all are pleasing. I love the colour of freshly steamed broccoli. When I page through a magazine, the pictures of gardens or jungles always draw me into them, I can feel the coolness of the fresh wet green. Yes, I think green makes me happy.

This makes me happy: eating strawberries

I'm a sucker for good food, which is pretty obvious, but even the most scrumptious food doesn't do it for me. Except strawberries. Perhaps because they're virtually sinless. Perhaps it's because you never know whether you're going to get a really sweet one or a really tart one. Perhaps it's their complex texture. Perhaps it's just their colour. But I just love eating them, at room temperature, out of the box I bought them in, holding back their leaves with the stalks. Yum.

This makes me happy: bathing Anthony

When I start running his bath, I put him on his bed and give his lion-king stainglass goodie a twirl, which he loves. His room catches the late afternoon sun, and he watches Lion King, kicking his legs in delight. Then when his bath is ready, I undress him. He starts huffing and puffing in anticipation. When I take his nappy off, he gives me the biggest, wide-open-mouth smile, as if to say: "now, now, now?" Then I carry his little naked body (love it!) through to the bathroom, and pop him in his bath chair. And now the fun starts. He squeals with delight after the initial shock of the water (no matter what the temperature is), and starts kicking his legs and splashing with his arms. He stops for a little, looks at the taps and then, he's off again. Smiling his wide-open-mouth smile and getting it full of water. The boys have got a tupperware set of buckets and a couple of them have holes in them making a shower of water. Ant just loves this. I shower his belly and his legs and his arms. He watches it with great concentration and tries to catch the water with his hands.
He's never once complained in the bath, even when he's overdue for a bottle or a sleep. He's even once or twice moaned, just a little, when I've taken him out.
This makes me happy. Really happy. I try not to miss his bath. Even if I'm exhausted. What a delight.

Ode to Gizelle

I have a personal trainer. It's such a treat. An expensive treat, but I think I deserve it (3-children-in-3-years syndrome). Aside from the obvious advantage of accountability, which I really, really need, she makes me feel valuable. OK, I'm a "client" and she has to keep me coming to keep getting paid, but when you're a mom looking after everyone else's needs, it's really cool to have someone looking after yours. She customises my exercise routine for ME. She is 100% focussed on me. She takes me seriously if I say "I'm buggered" (which is frequently, but getting better), she's careful about my caesar scar, she's upped my cardio work (at my request), and through it all, it seems she likes me. Pretty cool, eh?
See. Money can buy you friends...

still a baby

being a baby is such tiring work

a little low

Been feeling a little low the last few day... Considering drugs (again). Anybody got recommendations or referals?

Ant is 4 months old (on Saturday)

Things I love about you at 4 months:
• The way you LOVE your bath. You get so excited when I take your clothes off and then kick great big kicks and splashes in your bath chair. And squeal with delight. I don’t have to entertain you at all.
• You’re not self-conscious about your mullet hairstyle. I’m learning not to be too.
• You smile so hard sometimes it looks like you might just smile right out of your skin. Sometime you smile and hold your hands up to your face and curl into a ball and roll away. Then you look back with this “is that cute enough for you?” look. Yes. Way cute. Way too cute. Oh, and the way you smile behind your dummy. And sometimes your open-mouth, tongue-quivering smile pops your dummy right out, and you don’t care.
• The way you huff and puff when you see your bottle and grab at it with both hands.
• That you’re sleeping through. From 7-ish to 5-ish. AND you usually have a big sleep during the day. Like somewhere between 2½ and 3½ hours.
• The way you try to copy my mouth movements, especially when I say “hello” (show us tongue, baby) and “baba” (movin’ that bottom lip, babe)
• That you blink with surprise when I make loud kissing sounds and zurbits. And then grin.
• Your giggle (with a little hiccup at the end) when I kiss your neck (I have to search for your neck in amongst your many chins)
• That you’re fascinated by your brothers, and they make you smile without meaning too.
• You complete us. Five is a good number, for us. (“We live in Glen-da-vaar. Timmy and me live in Glen-da-vaar. And Mom and Dad and Ant all live in Glen-da-vaar.”)

And what I don’t like so much
• That you’re all alone in your big-boy room. You don’t get to share it with a twin brother. The first time you went in there, I felt so lost and lonely for you. You didn’t seem to mind, though.
• That you’re still “spitting up” (plain old VOMITING, great milky vomits)
• That you’re pretty used to having a bunch of smiling faces around you. So when I’m making supper and the boys are bathing and you can’t see me, you moan. And perform.
• That I’m back to work and I’m leaving you behind with Granny. I feel like I’m missing out. Why couldn’t Granny and I had you together during my maternity leave? You know, tea and boiled eggs on the beach, just the three of us.

not a good night

I think in the past week, my nearly-three-year old sons have woken me about twice as many times as my 4-month-old-and-sleeping-through-(until-5am) son. It's infuriating. I remember a time when I just finished rocking and singing Matt to sleep (at about 7 months) when Tim woke up (after sleeping through Matt's controlled-crying) to be rocked and sung to. I banged my head against the wall. About 5 times. Making very sure to bang it where my fringe would cover up the mark, so I would still be able to say: "my twins are just super" and "we're coping really well" to anyone who asked.
Last night I sent Gareth to Ant (woke at about 10.30 for help with his dummy). Matt woke at 11.48. Gareth grunted: "is it Ant again", to which I huffed: "no, Matt". I managed to trip over Ant's car seat and ram my shoulder into the bookcase taking the corner too early on the way there, and stand on a cockroach and a pram on the way back . I can't see at that hour, not even by the light of my screensaver. Matt said to my "what IS all this crying about": "I just need the door open, mom". For heaven's sake.
So, this morning I'm grumpy. I'm grumpy from not enough sustained sleep. I'm grumpy because I have to work and I really don't want to. I'm grumpy because I've committed myself to gym (and paid for it) and I really don't want to. I'm grumpy because I have no energy. None at all.
There. Parenting isn't for sissies. Life isn't for sissies. Now get over it.

Mirrors and lights

Children are mirrors.
Listening to Timothy praising Matthew on his drawing yesterday really reminded me of this again. Gareth and I are often surprised at how much they pick up, especially when we don't think they're listening... We're having to be careful about what we say, especially about other people, but also about ourselves. It's going to come out. Really. Like "Dad, you've got a hairy bum." Seriously, it's going to crack Ali up.
I've been thinking about 2005 (because I'm at work and reading blogs with such thought-lines). Of course, it's all about children. Nothing else of any significance happened to us last year. Just children. I've learned to take (perhaps CLAIM is a better word) more credit for how my children are turning out (both positive and negative).
they're sharp because i am
they're affectionate because i am
they yell because i do
they have issues with food because i do
they ask questions (all the time) because i do
they share because i do (and perhaps because i demand it, too)
And Gareth, of course he has some part...
they tickle because he does
they laugh (especially Tim) because he does
they're into routine because he is
they love to learn about animals because he does
they have hairy bums... ok that's getting into genetics and stuff. we won't go there...
You know, once I get over the hang-ups about myself (work-in-progress), this could be really cool. It's a pretty amazing way to get to know ourselves. Very cool.
And I leave you with:
“I will not die an unlived life. I will not live in fear of falling or catching fire. I choose to inhabit my days, to allow my living to open me, to make me less afraid, more accessible, to loosen my heart until it becomes a wing, a torch, a promise.” -Dawna Markova
It's a big ask, and is elegantly phrased. I think it's the first sentence that really gets me. Besides I don't have a fear of falling or catching fire. Perhaps running out of petrol or getting a flat tyre, but not falling and fire. Thankfully.