I'm not an angel, Mom

Mom: Goodnight, Mommy's little angel
Tim: I'm not an angel, Mom
Mom: Goodnight, Mommy's big boy
Tim: I'm not a big boy, Mom. I'm a MOO COW.

Life's Too Short

Today, I'm thinking, is just too short. The days are too short to do everything I want to... We have a saying at work, when deadlines loom, "a day has 24 hours, and then there's the night". If only. I want to spend time with Ant before he grows up more, I want to play with my big boys (separately), I want to go to the gym (personal trainer included, please), I want to go back to work and be good at it, I want to canoe at least 3 times a week, I want to cook nutritious meals (fresh from Jamie Oliver's kitchen)... It's all too much for the short 24 hours we have in a day.
In fact, Life's Too Short. When I drive Emma's bakkie, I want to be a farmer's wife. When I watch "Grand Designs", I want to be an architect. When I read the Saturday property papers, I want to buy a farm, or a least a property big enough so that you can't see your neighbours and they can't see you. When I see pictures of the wild coast, I want to opt out of the rat race and start a B&B or better still, a backpackers. When I watch the travel channel, I want to travel to South America, to Thailand and Indonesia, to Canada, to sail the east African coastline (avoiding pirates) and the Mediterranean...
Is this disatisfaction (with my life now)? Or is the challenge of new things? Am I living too much in the future to enjoy the present?
Life is just way too short.

And they take to the water

Being the rather Fat Bastard I am at the moment, it took great encouragement to get me onto the canooooo. We paddled up the Glen Eden river into Inkwenkwezi (Private Game Reserve) yesterday at lunchtime. My mom had our three boys quite efficiently under control (Grannies are possibly the world’s greatest invention), and although it was pouring with rain, we headed out. It was stunning. We saw three types of king fisher and caught a glimpse of our resident juvenile long-crested eagle. I find paddling a great opportunity to “talk” (sorry, Gareth), most often about my dreams of a better life (from travelling to getting a full-time maid). I’ve angst about whether this is borne out of dissatisfaction (I don’t think so), so have concluded it’s more about the need for progress. I realised, again, how fortunate we are to have such beautiful spots on our doorstep. Just got to get out more!

Anyone for tennis?

We’re down at the swings this morning with Matt & Tim, and I’m reclining on the grass… Gareth says: “It looks like you’ve got a tennis ball in your bra.” Well, it feels more like a ball of lead. That’s rather sensitive. I played with the boys with great gusto, first time in months. I feel like I’m on the mend – both physically and emotionally.
Bottlefeeding is going well. Ant’s taken to it with no trouble. Except the occasional “vomay” (Emma-speak for “vomit”). Just the usual “I’ve a burb under that bit of milk” kind. Nothing to worry about, except, pass me that cloth, please. He’s sleeping a lot (could it be post-traumatic-stress?) and is quite happy. The first bottle took him by surprise, and he looked up at me with a rather perplexed look, but that was probably just my feelings being transferred onto his face.
This is the road I’d rather not have travelled, but here we are. Now I need to learn to enjoy the scenery.

Enough's enough

Enough pain, enough tears, enough swearing, enough fighting, enough bleeding, enough expressing, enough discomfort, enough insomnia, enough blues, enough aloneness, enough frustration, enough anger, enough dreading...
Enough guilt, enough blame, enough failing, enough decisions...

More enjoyment, more family, more cuddles, more hugs, more time, more fun..

Yip. My breastfeeding experience is ending. It’s sad. Very sad. There’s something rather satisfying about being able to nourish a baby completely from your own body. There’s something special about watching a baby enjoying a drink and then being so full and drunk with your milk that he lolls his head and falls asleep with his mouth open. And it’s so frustrating because I don’t have a problem with enough milk. In fact, I have a slight problem with too much milk, like I can barely go 4 hours and I’m popping, needing to express or wake him to relieve me. But I’ve tried everything. But I think this is now outside my “sphere of influence”.
The feeding since Thursday has got worse again. I hoped that things would get progressively better. In fact I remember saying that the pain can only get better, it can’t get worse. But it did. And the bleeding on Thursday was the worse it’s ever been. So, enough’s enough.
We have all the “equipment”, including a lactation inhibitor (reading the insert made me cry). So we’re off on a parallel road, that’ll get us to the same place in the end.
And I’ve bought champagne. To celebrate this as a victory of 6 weeks, not a failure of 6 weeks.

Complete

Had a good session scrapbooking yesterday… 4 of us got together… 3 absolute beginners & me. I got this done:

Here’s to creativity… I find it healing & restorative

A Windy Day

The wind is absolutely howling today. Like lift-the-tiles-off-the-roof howling. So no getting out today! I nearly got blown off the deck taking that photo (towards Glen Eden, into the teeth of the west wind). I tried to catch one of Anthony’s cute smiles on the camera today, but it’s hard. It’s a two person job. One to convince him to smile with lots of giggles and “you’re a gorgeous boy” in high pitched tones, the other to take the photo. Oh, well. Good enough, me thinks.
Tomorrow we’re into town to get Anthony’s 6-week jabs, and for me to get a haircut. Can’t wait for that haircut. And I have a long list of things to buy, cos Ant’s settling into a good routine now, giving me about 3 hours of “me time”, which I’d like to fill up with scrapbooking and perhaps some card making.
Matt was pretty sick last night – bad cough and running a very high temperature. Mooti did nothing, but we managed to cool him down with stripping him to his nappy (he wanted that off too, not a good idea) and blowing on him (wouldn’t have the cool cloth near him). I ended up sleeping in his bed (books tell you not to do this, cos your body heat doesn’t help, but I lay far enough not to touch him, but close enough for him to know I was there). He says “Mom, please stay. I got friends.” (the obvious opposite to “I got no friends…” his latest phrase). Comforting him was good for both of us. Quality time.

A Good Day

It’s been a good day today, and this is why:

My angel has had a long sleep, allowing me to prepare some veg for older boys, do some scrapbooking (well, playing with paper, at least), some surfing (the internet kind… 2Peas, of course) and I’ve had a shower and 2 square (ish) meals. Amazing. Now I even blog. And I got out: I walked over to Natalie Kriel’s place, catching a glimpse of a beautiful sea (thanks to the west wind yesterday).
Update: I’m still breastfeeding… I have all the necessities to start weaning, but haven’t started. It’s like I have enough milk, and the pain can’t really get worse (we’re now recovering from thrush), so I’ll stick it out a bit longer. And I’m a ninny: I can hardly go 4.5 hours between feeds, how am I going to SKIP a feed to give him a bottle? I’m ready for relief now, and it’s only been 3 hrs since his last one. Ant’s stretching to 5 hours for one night feed, but other than that we’re on a 3-4 hr schedule.
The “other” boys have been testing us. Really testing us. I’m failing the test convincingly, but Gareth is still keeping Team Parent ahead. His patience and staying-power is unnerving. But we still manage some giggles: I often call the boys “my angels”, in an attempt to convince both myself and them, but Tim’s latest is “I’m NOT an angel, I’m a MOO COW” (They have their parts now for the nativity play, and you guessed it, Tim’s a cow, and PROUD of it. So, not more calling him an angel.) Somehow, “Mommy’s little moo cow” doesn’t have the same ring. But if it makes him happy…
And finally… tomorrow’s payday for me, and I haven’t been at work. This is good.

An exciting moment...

...in my day-to-day existence: I went to the shop at Glen Eden, in Emma’s diesel bakkie, to buy a phone card, and got half-price off a roll of nearing-Nov-expiry-date fruit pastels (cue: applause that I didn’t buy chocolate). And the short trip put Ant to sleep, which is a Good Thing, a very Good Thing. He hasn’t slept much today… and today’s a day I have a bit of energy. Oops, I think I jinxed it… he’s grizzling and starting to wake.
Ok, I now type with one hand (right) while I shoegel babe in other. Oh, & the font is set at 18 pt, cos I can’t find my glasses (sunnies make the screen dark & blurry).
You guessed it… I’m just not built right for this SAHM thing (Stay At Home Mom – an Americanism). I think it’s cos I’m not all that thrilled with my own company… Ant isn’t interacting enough to be called “company”, although I might have caught a hint of a smile which wasn’t wind-related. Don’t know where he learnt it from, with all my grimacing and tears while breastfeeding. Perhaps his brothers have been smiling at him while I wasn’t watching.
OK, put baby down, and he’s awake again, sucking his thumb. So I’ll keep this short… To answer some questions:
“Bean” came from “Kerri-bean” – a friend/acquaintance (Cathy Lloyd, remember her, Heids?) in std 6 coined the nickname by rebelliously writing it on a desk in red koki. Somehow it stuck. Got shortened to just “Bean” and at varsity to “KGB” (perhaps a sign that Gareth would get stuck in the middle of my life?)
Mythbusters is a programme on Discovery – a team of mad scientists (special-effects dudes) called Jamie & Adam go about scientifically testing common myths to check if they’re real. Some good ones have been whether toast falls butter side down (last night) and whether you save petrol by having your A/C on instead of your windows down. They’re a hoot, really. And when they can’t get things to blow up (like your cellphone in a petrol station), then they just put in some explosives and call the fire department.
OK, now Ant requires my attention. This is maternity leave, after all. I must be a mom, first & foremost. Later…

Cabin fever cure

I decided to beat cabin fever early today, by getting out for a walk to the deck. With Ant joey-sleeping in the kanga, I meandered down. I was rewarded with a sea of that beautiful translucent grey-green colour I love so much, diamonds of sunlight dancing on the waves and dolphins swimming in a lazy circle. I really must get out more.

Red Ant

Ant’s coming up for one month (tomorrow) and he’s doing well. In the last few days he’s become both more aware (a beady eye looking up at moi from a boob, turning towards my voice) and more vocal. I think he may have smiled, but I’m not sure… Awaiting further confirmation. Today he’s slept so much that he’s mildly boring to be with (did I say that?) You know, I’m a little nervous to really plan anything, so I kinda sit around waiting for him to wake up. I managed to make some cards, have an uninterrupted visit with Natalie Kriel and bake some banana bread (for boys’ baker day, which I erroneously thought was tomorrow… I’ll freeze it).
He put on a bit more this week than last (weigh & measured him yesterday) – a whole 170g. And grown a whole 3cm! I’m pretty pleased, considering the mastitis, the failing left boob, the anxiety etc. I am using his weight now to give validation to quitting (breastfeeding). If I’ve got this far with the Pain, I can continue.
Gareth’s away (again) until Sunday (prefects’ camp), and I realise (again) what a support he is. Not in just the physical things. I’m quite capable of managing the boys on my own, but it’s really much better doing it with him. And I particularly like his company. I like him. Even when he “humphs” in his sleep (not in a grumpy way, just in a sleep-deprived way) when I switch on the light to feed Anthony (again) in the middle of the night.
Had another slight bout of cabin fever, and find myself checking my email 14 times a day to see if there’s anyone out there (who knows I’m here). Thank heavens for some emails from Heidi, Melanie & Penny. Phew. I am on an island, but at least the communication lines aren’t down.
Here’s my little red Ant, curled up how best he likes to sleep. Allowing me a shower before a(nother) feed.

Breastfeeding's a bugger (beware: potentially TMI)

I’ve have mastitis. It’s too bloody awful. Apart from feeling so sick that I actually hoped I was going to be hospitalised, I was so upset/hurt/sad/frustrated that I couldn’t get Ant to feed off the infected boob, that I was almost going off the edge. The best thing about this bout of mastitis (had it twice in the seven weeks I fed the boys), was the timing. I was able to get to the “breastfeeding clinic” (old name for St Dom’s Babes) to get help with getting him to feed, and also get a script for antibiotics. I’m mostly better now (left boob still rock-hard), but Ant still isn’t feeding well off it and I’m getting a little worried about its milk supply.
I’m starting to understand the underlying basis for Mothers’ Guilt. It might be obvious to many of you, but it’s only starting to dawn on me now. For 9 months, we’re wholly responsible for our foetus’ development – no drinkin’, schmokin’, over-heatin’, over-eatin’, horse-ridin’ (if you’re the type) etc. Then, while we’re breastfeeding, all of the above (aside from, perhaps over-eatin’ and horse-ridin’), but add it to: it’s YOUR fault if the baby won’t feed properly (your boobs, your positioning, your teaching him to open his mouth wide enough, your getting upset about ANYTHING, anything at all). And in all this, the Father is either patting the both of you with a helpless look in his eye, or (if you’re not as lucky as me) totally oblivious.
So, I’m starting the “I think I’m going to give up” portion of breastfeeding… I sat through an additional 2 weeks with the boys’ feeding when I started to feel like this. But with this one, I’m hoping this will pass. Quickly. Without me giving up. Some thoughts to keep me going:
1. It’s actually easier to live with this Pain (yes, I’m still very sore, even though I am METICULOUS with my positioning and have had LOTS of professional help – both this time and with the boys) than the Guilt. Mostly that I wasn’t tough-enough to stick it out, of it being my fault every time he gets sick. And with the boys with a good few months left of school this year, he will get sick.
2. Bottle washing is a pain (but not with a capital P, and there are other people who can do it). And Nan is expensive.
3. Breastfeeding will help me lose the pregnancy weight (only 2kgs to go on this pregnancy, but still a remnant 6kgs left from the boys’ pregnancy.. and then some)
4. Mel’s Bestfeeding book tells the tale of moms who fed exclusively and successfully on one boob (one was a mom of twins) and Matt thrived pretty well on my right boob exclusively
5. I AM strong and I AM determined (thank you, Katie for your unending encouragement).
I cry now. And feel guilty about it (because you can’t get upset.. it’ll affect your baby!!!)

Disclaimer: This is NOT your average breastfeeding experience. DO NOT LET ME PUT YOU OFF. Most people I know have struggled for a couple of weeks, then have gone on to breastfeed for months (even years) with great success and minimal effort.

On a lighter note: Sue asked Matt how he knows which is his bike (we marked them with a “M” and a “T” a long, long time ago), to which he answered, pointing at Tim’s bike: “Cos that’s one’s Tim’s”. Don’t you just love their logic?

Mythbusters & sleeping babe

Boooooring, Mom’s watching Mythbusters AGAIN! My days are filled with sleeping baby (& sleeping me, occasionally), waiting for him to wake to relieve my mammaries, trying to find something to watch on TV (and resorting to Mythbusters, again) and wishing I had more energy so I could do STUFF (like paint bottom room, sort out bookcase etc)
It’s actually all good. Really. If you discount how my body seems to be failing me (or perhaps just not living up to my Virgo-perfectionalistic standards).

She resurfaces

I haven’t blogged for ages. It’s because I’m suffering from Humour Deficit Disorder (amongst other things), and was NOT (absolutely NOT) going to write a whiney post. I refused. Breastfeeding and sleep deprivation made me lose it slightly this week. I’m getting better, though, and the following things helped:
- James’ comment. Really made me giggle, thanks.
- talking to Sean on the phone, and getting near to some TMI topics (Too Much Information)… I enjoyed shocking him, made me laugh.
- Matt running into the lounge to ask: “Timmo, please fetch my do-do” (Tim climbs in and out his campcot with no trouble, to have a quick suck on his dummy & a quiet feel of his blanket. But Matt, being the short shit, can’t get into his. So he asks his brother, ever so politely, to get his dummy for him.)
Other news from the week (no whining allowed / aloud): Ant was weighed on Monday, and has picked up weight very nicely. He’s a strapping lad of 4.48kg now. We had a lovely long visit with Pete & Karen Lindstrom… good to catch up again. I’m getting back to some work, which is uplifting (not a drag at all). And Gareth’s in Cape Town, with his waterpolo team… they’re doing nicely, just have to win their quarter-final now to move up to the next level. And I’m getting that nesting feeling again… perhaps that’s because every room in the house looks like a bird’s nest (one that a mom-weaver has rejected).

On cabin fever...

I blog now with my boobs resting on my desk. I kid you not. Breastfeeding is really the pits. I have yet to have a “good experience” with it… although, it does have some scatterings of good moments (like no bottle washing). I remember these during bouts of sleep-deprived insanity.
Just when I thought I was getting over the “baby blues”, I started crying again. I thought it was related to frustration of breastfeeding, but those tears are born out of Pain and accompanied by foul words. Very foul words. My Very Wise Husband says (gingerly, so as not to upset me further, and have foul words flung his way), “I think, perhaps, you might be experiencing a little cabin fever. You know, you haven’t been out or had company, other than Ant, for the last week. Do you want to visit someone tomorrow. I’ll be your chauffer, and I’ll take all 3 of our boys so you can have tea with someone.” Do you get this guy? I hadn’t remembered about cabin fever… Last time, I had my hands full, and my Dad was here. Now it’s just me and Ant, and he isn’t much company cos he sleeps about 23hrs out of 24. And I’m too exhausted (from staying awake most of the night waiting to wake up and relieve my right boob) and too sore (from blinking Caesar) to get out much. And I’m not very good company.
So today, my DH takes us all to Cintsa East for milkshakes and a picnic on the beach. The weather was absolutely stunning, and our first borns were pretty well behaved, relative to the rest of the day/week. Anthony got his first sand in his hair, ears, eyebrows, and slept through the whole experience. Matt & Tim had their crusts from breakfast for lunch (we’re seriously putting our collective parental feet down about such things) and G & I enjoyed lovely fresh rolls with cheese & tomato. Ok, in the end, I relented, and the boys got a cheese roll to play with in the sand.
Tomorrow we have a wedding (déjà vu of Sean & Sue’s wedding, a mere 11 days after the boys were born?), so I get to dress up and see some people. Cool. And we’ll probably take the sleepy Ant with us. Then Monday, we go to town… So I think I’ll get over this “cabin fever”… With some cunning from my DH.
Must sign off… It sounds like Ant’s awake, and I don’t want to miss it!!

I must be ok...

I must be OK… I’m scrapbooking again. Ali gave me some beautiful paper (SEI) for my birthday, and I couldn’t wait to use it. Here it is…

Check out 2Peas for the journaling if you’re interested. Here’s the link… can’t get to my “code” to make a neat link, cos Gizmo is sleeping in my box of tricks. Let sleeping cats lie (especially if they’re real grumpy, like Gizmo).
http://www.twopeasinabucket.com/pg.asp?gallery=1&cmd=display&layout_id=662923

Three boys

No much to say today… other than it's extremely restful to be at home with ONE newborn (he's a WEEK today!) And here's a pic of our three boys. Ain't we lucky?

On 3rd day “baby blues”

On 3rd day “baby blues”
Anyone who knows me well, and was around at the birth of Matt & Tim, will know that I get baby blues really badly. I blubber and weep for quite a few days. I tried really hard this time round to control that, and only cried once on the night of the dreaded Day 3, mostly because an orderly (not a “real” nurse) told me that I’d have to bring or buy my own nappies if I ran out. Now good thing to tell me at 8pm on Fri night… I said (a) why didn’t you tell us this BEFORE I ran out of nappies, (b) last time we were given another pack of nappies PER BABY on the medical aid account and (c) shall I jump in my car and go to an all night garage / pharmacy to get some (with no money and no car). Have you ever?
Then I cried A LOT on the morning of Day 4. This was mostly due to engorgement (if you know this, pity me, if you don’t, don’t even look it up, it’s not good) and worrying about whether Ant was getting enough to eat. Idiot, the boy was sleeping 2-2.5hr stretches and not moaning at all. You just can’t reason with yourself in these circumstances.
Now, having had these blues twice, I’m starting to understand that they’re not so much hormonal as:
1. On Day 3 they’ve stopped giving you jabs for pain, you’re running out of suppositories (for pain) and you feel bad to call nurses to give you tablets.
2. On Day 3, you’re generally “on you own” with baby, which means getting out of bed on your own to get nappies (if you have any left), sitting up every 2-2.5 hrs to feed baby, getting out of bed on your own to ablute
3. On Day 3, you’re so sick and tired of the hospital that you really want to go home, to comfort (those beds are blinkingly uncomfortable) and genuine concern (not medical-aid-paid concern)
4. On Day 3, you’re really missing your family, who have to go on with their own lives, and your friends have visited you on Day 2.
5. By Day 3, you haven’t had more than a one-hour stretch of sleep, either cos of pain, baby, noisy nurses or noisy neighbours
6. On Day 3, your nipples are bleeding into your very beautiful, white cotton feeding bra
7. On Day 3, you have yet to have a bowel movement
8. On Day 3, you finally get to really connect with your baby, and realise how gorgeous he is and what a miracle this whole process is (that really gets me – perhaps it IS hormonal)
I had the most irritating comments/MedAid concern from the nurses when they noticed I was crying. They ranged from “Are you sure you don’t want something for pain?” (IDIOT, I’m not crying out of pain), “You really shouldn’t upset yourself, it’ll affect baby” (Good thing: now I can feel utterly helpless AND guilty), “You’re doing fine, this is your second baby” (THAT’S why you’ve all be ignoring me… don’t you know this is my FIRST time at having ONE baby??) and “Oh, is it post-natal depression?” (NO: this is just a day thing, pass me a tissue and help me get rid of this red nose before the doctor comes). I just don’t understand why these hospital staff are so under-trained. Gareth says, they’re concerned, I say they’re stupid and seriously undertrained in real patient-care. OK, said my bit…
Matt tells me, while I’m having a full-on crying session (that kinda silent heaving, wetting the front of my dressing gown kind) that “Mom, you crying. Mom, you got tears. Mom, you eina from the doctor. Mom, doctor make a biiiiig hole to take Anthony out. Mom, you crying.” Which, of course, sets me off further. His understanding astounds me.
The boys are pretty enamoured by our gorgeous addition… Lots of kissing and “rubbing” and hugging. I’m holding back from telling them to be careful all the time, and just making sure I’m on hand to intervene if necessary. They now have a better understanding of that “unique mammalian trait” (no: it’s not an udder, Matt).
Anthony is an angel – went 5 hours between feeds last night, much to the horror of my “udders”. Not counting my chickens, though, just celebrating the moment. And what’s Ant doing while I blog this? See for yourself.

Oh, and James, I suppose you’d like the parents in a pic to prove these are just pictures of the cutest boy I could find on the internet? Well, that will have to wait. We have our hands too full for setting up self timers and getting 5 people to look in the same direction at once. But, picture pending… watch this space.

Introducing: Anthony. The Third.

Here he is – a gorgeous boy born to us on Wednesday, 14th September at 12.43, by C-section. He’s a really big boy at 4.39kg – almost what the boys weighed together (Tim 2.1 & Matt 2.6). He hasn’t had much time with his dad yet, but he’s delighting his mom.

Oh, and by the way, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, GARETH. His birthday kinda slipped away from us. We’ll have to have a kyk-weer.

This was meant to be posted yesterday, but alas. I’m doing serious multi-tasking getting this on now…

Best news thus far re: natural birth

Good news on the Natural Birth front… Dr B was the most positive he’s been. Said everything looks fine, and that we’ll do “trial by labour” (or something like that). But, conditions apply: My blood pressure was a bit high yesterday & I was struggling with a headache which was probably related. Blood tests showed platelet count was fine (haven’t figured how this is related to BP, but haven’t tried). So we’ve got to keep that down. Best thing to do: sit on comfy couch with feet up (& preferably don’t watch anything to do with Hurricane Katrina or Beslan). Secondly, I have to go into labour (all by myself) within the next week. If I haven’t by 18th (next Sun), then I’ll have to have a Caesar. It is too much of a risk for the scar to have induction drugs (& epidural, too). So, it’s looking the best it ever has. Both G & I were amazed at Dr B’s change in attitude. Either it was the “conference” he went on earlier this week, or it’s that he thought I’d have bailed out by now.
Not much other news, aside from G basically being a “single parent” – doing all the fetching & carrying, bathing and biking. Soldiering on, cheerfully (for now). He said he can’t wait to get his wife back, poor boy. When Matt was asked about the baby at school, he told them “it hasn’t hatched yet”.
I also got the most amazing parcel from my dearest friend… Full of yummy goodies (like Thorntons) and the most amazing scrapbook for the new baby. Can’t wait to use it (well, can actually, but you know what I mean). THANK YOU, best mate. Super super stuff.

t - xdays

Here are some “before” and “after” (well, more like “during”) photos of the nursery, at Heidi’s request. And I followed Heidi’s instructions (unusual…) and DIDN’T tidy up before taking the photos. As you can see, it’s a lovely buttery yellow, but I am waiting before I pair it with green (probably a darkish green – sunflowers as inspiration) or pink (ala Pottery Barn Kids). The walls are blank for this reason! I have some nice sunflower pics, but will wait. Some of the piles of things you can see on the chest of drawers are tiny clothes for bebe from Stork Party. I’ve got them out, cos this might be a mammoth & we might have to change them.
BEFORE (hint: take photo in bad light, preferably at night, that way your after photos look better!)

AFTER / DURING

All well here… I’m having a few twinges, but nothing with any regularity. Probably just nerves making me acutely aware of my body. I know one thing, though, I don’t think I could be a stay-at-home-mom (granted, there are no kids with me at the moment, well, none on the “outside”). Yesterday I was depressed. Feeling useless and the time passing meaningless. Sat down and did some work in the afternoon to feel better, and better I felt. Adjustments… I swing from nervous about this bebe coming to downright impatient.
Oh, and watched “Grand Designs” on BBC Prime. Amazing stuff. Awakens a deeply-buried dream to be an architect. In another life?

Waiting

Me and ted. We're just waiting.

Stork Party

Mom organised a stork party for us yesterday… Lovely to have all my favourite people in one room (but being in the limelight is not my favourite thing!) Luckily, Mom had outlined the rules – NO guessing who presents are from, and NO guessing what’s in the present, and NO forfeits. I’m glad we’re on the same wavelength, but perhaps it’s because we’re related. They got me there saying Aunty Heather was here from Port Alfred and could we have lunch with them in town. It was the most magnificent day, so it had to be a strong drawcard, and it was. Very good to see Heather.
The babe got some lovely things… lots of yellow and white babygros, some blankets (lucky, cos there’s NO WAY that Tim would give his up) and some gorgeous new towels. Some highlights:
- a poem by Jenny that made me cry (for my scrapbook, of course!)
- Nona giving us a glimpse of her “classical” Caesar scar
- Sue’s present with something for EVERYONE in it – Tim & Matt got scribble books and “completely washable” kokis (labelled with their names, so NO fighting), Gareth got biltong and I got hand & nail cream (“Excuse me, nurse, could you take this baby to the nursery so I could do my nails”). I forget what the babe got, gosh.
- Mandy’s “first month survival kit, from someone who doesn’t know what she’s talking about” (she did pretty well – Bar One for energy, Supradyn for a 25 hour day, babywash etc)
- Katie coming a little late so we could just chat. Needed that. Like, what’s your routine and how long does she sleep and all those things that I can’t remember AT ALL.
- Shupiwe being here, unplanned-like. It feels like she’s family (a sorta Emma-substitute)
- Some laughs and a photo with Natalie.
- A babygro from Ali that says “I LOVE MY MOMMY”
Shupiwe’s taken the boys to the swings on their black bikes, so I must finish up here to make best use of the quiet. Like perhaps do some scrapbooking… Poor Gareth’s installing a pressure pump for our water – so we can get hot water upstairs (to do the dishes… not a good reason, but his wife made a fuss about it a couple of weeks ago, and that’s a good enough reason, apparently).
Oh oh, I hear children. Phew, not mine. One very tired-looking dad, playing putt-putt with some bouncing-off-the-wall boys.

Happy Birthday, Dad!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Dad. Have a wonderful day tomorrow! Missing you as always.
Hugs, yr daughts, KB

R&R

I’ve decided to have a little “rest” at home today. Just to catch my breath before I finish things up tomorrow at work. I spent the first part of this morning rather depressingly in front of SKY news. Hurricane Katrina has really devastated the New Orleans area. Very sad and quite upsetting at times. I switched to House Invaders and Flog It, which is slightly more cheerful but not of any value. Oh, well. I think I’ll turn to “Purple Hibiscus” after I’ve sent my emails (I admit it, I did a tiny-tiny bit of work) and blogged this.
Some reflections from yesterday:
- On the way home yesterday evening, we were tailgated and flashed by a little white corsa in a hurry. When it finally passed us, emblazoned on the side in red was “Jackie’s driving school”.
- I love that Matthew DOESN’T know everything, and isn’t ashamed to admit it. He says “Matthew can’t know” and “Mom, tell me” when he can’t remember something. So sweet – it’s something I want to remember.

More baby news

Dr B says all looks good. The babe hasn't dropped, so he's not worried about early labour (which is good, cos he's going to be away Mon-Thurs next week, typical, hey?) I see him next Friday and he'll assess chances of natural birth ("push this baby out", like it's something strange and not done often). If not good, then we'll book a caesar for Mon 12th. If all good, then we wait and see. Please send baby-stay-in thoughts for Mon-Thur next week. I really don't want to do this without Dr B.
I had a much better night last night. Perhaps cos I bunked off work at 2 and rested most of the afternoon/evening. I am FORCING myself to slow down now. Not easy. Gareth pats my belly this morning and says "hello mammoth" (I am assuming he meant hello baby, not hello mommy). Matthew says this morning "we sharing the baby" when I tell him it's going to come soon. Aaaawww.

yes, still hormonal

I cried this morning watching SKY news and Hurricane Katrina. I cried 3 stories on: African illegal immigrants being burned out of their hostel in Paris. I cried reading Tara's blog. I cried telling someone about Hurricane Katrina.
So, yes, I am still hormonal. I suppose it's really to be expected.
And I am feeling particularly uncomfortable (though I won't admit it in person readily). Now I understand when people say "the last month is the worst" (I never had a last "month" with the boys, them being 3 weeks early). Even than silly comment I've heard a hundred times in the last week "Are you still walking?" is starting to make sense (like, ja! but now I'm thinking I'd rather not be).
We have an appointment with Dr B this afternoon. We'll probably get our final direction re: VBAC (I'm losing hope) and maybe even a "date". Will let you know soonest...

Hormonal

I am seriously hormonal.
I bowed to the boys' request (demand?) to watch Dinosaur this morning. Usually I like them to watch something short that won't hold their attention (like JayJay the Jetplane), so that I don't have their tears when I drag them away to school. Fortunately we'd watched to just over half way last night, so I was able to estimated a part which would take us to the end at about 7am, so I wouldn't have to drag them... It worked. I did sharing-caring porridge, then ate my own breakfast in front of it, with running commentary (being careful not to talk with my mouth full). What I didn't expect, was that I would cry. In two places. Once when Aladar's girlfriend helped some tired baby iguanodons on their migration, and again when the grumpy leader of the herd died. Seriously. This can't go on. I managed to hide the embarrassing incident from the boys. They were riveted (to Dinosaur) anyway.

What do we feed the boys? Here's a synopsis:
1. Breakfast of sharing-caring porridge: One huge bowl of pronutro, add an entertaining 10 minute TV programme, shovel "one spoon for Tim" and "one spoon for Matt" alternately into boys' mouths, without them really noticing. Add half a banana or a naarjie, if you have them in the house and you have enough energy.
2. Lunch at Nana's house: Portion of the-biggest-pot-we-can-find mixed veg (butternut, sweet potatoes, gem squash) and mince (frozen and put in Nana's freezer). Or fish cakes and mashed potato... Mom vH offered to take the "difficult" meal off our hands, mostly cos we get home too late to be making stuff and fighting with them... Pride in pocket, we accepted.
3. Supper of (you guessed it) rolls with cheese & bovril, fruit and milk.
So, not rocket-science. In fact, one of the few cases of us submitting to the "path of least resistance". I used to be pedantic about what the boys ate and when. Now I just ride the wave. It's much better.

With the boys' learning names of things (birds, insects, dinosaurs etc), I think the following factors play some kind of role:
1. Matthew's capacity to remember stuff. Especially stuff that interests him.
2. Their Dad. He's just amazing with knowing names of animals & plants (ref: zoo text books). He totally skipped the "birdie" stage and just told them "kingfisher". It does help that we have them (live) where we live. We've realised the boys' brains are sponges: they'll take in as much as you give. If they're going to learn "birdie", they might as well learn "kingfisher". (I have stopped G from teaching them the Latin name, they just might get precocious.)
3. Our reluctance/refusal to read them stuff that doesn't interest us (ie Noddy). We're totally with you, James, but we just hide the books they want if we don't want them!
4. Just Kidding: the boys' playschool. They have fortnightly themes which are fun, informative, visual and repetitive.
5. Our realisation that they learn easily stuff they're interested in. We're just trying to figure out how to convert Tim's need to dismantle stuff into a learning experience. Puzzles just aren't doing it for him. (Note to self: visit Experilab before I go on maternity leave.)
6. Animal Planet (variation on #3). Cartoon network is banned.
7. Kalahari.net & CNA. I just LOVE buying books. We have heaps. And it's a pretty laudable way to spend money, eh?

Scrapbooking, power cuts and storm surf (not in that order)

“I’m in the zone…” Got my mojo back, and scrapbooking like crazy. Perhaps I’m trying to get some “closure” (?) with some of the boys’ recent photos before I have heaps to do of the new bebe. And as you can see, red is the colour.


We had a power cut last evening, and had fun with the boys, defrosting rolls in the oven (thank heavens for gas!), playing with candles and telling stories. It was pretty disappointing when the lights came back on (about 6.45). We’ve said it before, that we should do a self-imposed power cut, especially in winter, light a fire and some candles and enjoy the quiet. Somehow things are much quieter when it’s dark.

And howling wind and storm surf. Thought Em might want to see the waves – photo taken from our deck! These are monster waves.

the discerning toddler

In the vein of James, some current insights from our discerning toddlers:
1. a roll with cheese and bovril is infinitely better than a piece of toast with the same
2. "dinosaur" is way better than "the little mermaid 2" (thank heavens)
3. the car your brother has is better than the one you have
4. mommy's singing is better than dad's
5. the reaction you get from mom/dad/both parents when driving your black bike IN the house is far more entertaining than when driving your black bike on the deck
6. a mommy that is angry and quiet is way worse than a mommy that is angry and yelling

In other news... Tim and Matt made me VERY PROUD today at school. Their new theme is birds, and Ali had 5 stuffed birds from the museum on the theme table. My boys could identify 4 out of 5 without any prompting: kingfisher, seagull, loerie (ok, they said "grey loerie", but it was a "knysna loerie") & owl. The fifth I couldn't even get - it looked like a kestrel, but Ali said it was a something-something hawk (but v tiny). Could it have been the lesser-known dwarf hawk? I must look it up.

A man is better at grocery shopping

No seriously, he is. Well, mine is. Especially if we've written the list together (that way I can take some of the blame if something's "forgotten"). He sticks to the list, he doesn't strain carrying 14 litres of milk and he doesn't get irritated. While I'm incapacitated with bebe for the next few months, I won't be surprised if we can double our bond repayments with the money we save on grocery shopping.
You guessed it... Gareth did shopping yesterday. Without prompting and totally willing. We threw some words together into a mind-list at 6.25 yesterday morning, and yesterday afternoon, he'd done it. Now, he did actally deviate from his list. Very unlike him, but these are exceptional circumstances. He bought me TWO VANILLA YOGI-SIPS (which I had to hide from my first born: "What's yat, mom?")
He most definitely is my favourite husband.

after reading dooce, i can't think of anything witty to write here

This kind of mental instability has class: dooce
Thank you for introducing us, James.

Tag, you're it...

Disclaimer: So I don't normally do this. I'm not a forwarder of junk mail or chain letters. I actually get miffed when people do it to me (mostly). But seeing that some scrap-legends (aka Donna & CathyZ) are doing it, I have to climb on...
5 random things about me:
1. I relish change. I buck against routine. It's one of Gareth & my "opposites".
2. I have a masculine capacity to burp when I'm pregnant. (No, Gareth-dear, only I'M allowed to talk about that. It's a marital courtesy that you don't.)
3. I don't like wearing makeup, but I know I look better with it. So I use it only when I need to feel better about myself.
4. I think I love travelling. Well, I know I love the anticipation and the memories, sometimes not sure about the ACTUAL travel.
5. I can't stand negative and/or dramatic people. I go out of my way to contradict them or make statements which minimize their drama (or ignore them if I have an iota of respect for them on another level).
There. Heidi, TAG, you're it...

Over and under

I get to work this morning feeling overwhelmed and undermined. But in my inbox are three messages that make me feel warm and valued. I vote we keep this modern technology.

We win

An email from Kath reminded me that we beat Australia (again). Amazing.

Oh, and I get a BLT from the sandwich lady 5 minutes ago. How cool is that? I mentioned to her on Friday, when buying a BT (minus the L) for the first time, that when we were overseas we used to buy BLTs (from Pret, obviously), so she makes me one this am. How cool is that? "You win again"

Calm

I've just written a long rambling post about being calm. About being calm about the baby coming, about being calm about leaving work (in someone else's incapable hands)... And lost it. I'm even quite calm about that...
My big-baby-book says for week 37 (which I'm approaching): "You'll be feeling uncomfortable, but calm." Amazing. I'm amazed at how pregnancy adjusts your body and psyc for what's required.
A few weeks ago I was very un-calm about leaving work, I was considering buying a fax machine so I could work from home, so that I didn't have deligate the so-called "important" bits of my job. Now, I'm feeling like I'm glad they won't be able to contact me. I'll be able to concentrate on this baby and on myself. And I'm thoroughly calm about leaving this all behind.

strength

Heidi's scrapbooking challenge... Done quickly at Ali's house ('cept printing... on our new 3-in-1 printer!!) Ali took the pictures on the Hamburg beach.

Vomit

Heard in the family beast (Opel Astra Estate) on Friday night, on the way to a staff function.
Tim: look, Dad
Gareth (in mid-sentence conversation with significant other): Tim, I’m driving, I can’t look
Tim: looooook, Dad
Gareth: What is it, Tim
Tim: look, Dad, vomit
*giggles from front seats and a short pause*
Matt: look, Dad
Kerry: No, Matt, no.

Update: babe within

It seems I may be giving birth to a baby mammoth... Aside from the incredible amount of movement (more than I remember with 2 babes within), this is a big baby! At the last scan (a month ago), the weight was estimated at 1.6kg. Dr B said that should make a 3.2kg babe at term. Well, Wed's scan (35 weeks) showed a babe already at 3.2kg! No wonder it's been feeling a bit cumbersome. And probably from all the vanilla yogi-sip I've been feeding us (let's not speak about chocolate... I have SOME dignity left.) This doesn't bode well for a natural birth, as the uterus scar from previous caesar may be put under strain, but Dr B will assess situation at 38 weeks. When I asked him about the "horror stories" of forcep & suction birth, he got on the defensive (I probably shouldn't have used the term "horror", and should have made it clear that none of these stories I'd heard were at his hand... I can be a pea-brain, really). His body language made it very clear he doesn't like these kinds of questions (leaning on his table with his arms and legs crossed!!) I don't think I need to worry about those modes of delivery.
The boys are "bakermen" today - every Friday, their school has a bakerman who brings "cookies" and sells them to the rest of the kids. The bakerman gets to use the till and takes money (much "please" and "thank-yous" going on here). Gareth and I (mostly Gareth) made banana muffins last night and ate toast for supper. I made banana muffins last bakerday, and have decided (thanks, Heidi) that I am a-competitive (not anti-) about outdoing other moms or myself. Why change what works (for me)? I am amazed how the boys aren't aware that when it's their turn, they BOTH get to be bakerman... not just one of them. Sharing's caring! The van Harmelen's next bakerday is 16th Sept, pretty close to due date, but Nana's going to do that for us.

I blog today with a great cuppa tea and a banana muffin (us mammoths have to eat), and I get this email from Emma:

P.S Ker...Thanks for having twins...as a result I am now able to be very successful in my new job. Got new kid and today I was able to put on nappie,mix formula and put to sleep without tears but lots of singing from me!! Yesterday she squealed so much and left red marks on my Chinese co teacher so today I gave it a try and the strategies I learnt with the twins worked a treat with her...rock on! Fortunately, she is the only one who needs that kind of attention, all the others just sleep without nappies and bottles. Hee..hee!

I'm so glad I could help, Emz.

Miracles and Sunday Music

Ok, so I've found this biodegradable range of household cleaners (non-animate). The company has been going in South Africa since 1969 and their major product is a "miracle multi-purpose cleaner", but I didn't let these two things put me off. The distributor came to see me yesterday, slightly against my will, you know what I'm like about marketing... and most of my questions stumped her. She came to explain to me the economy of the stuff, but I wanted to know how it was "kind to the environment". I was suitably impressed by some of their products (on an economy basis, their windolene-equivalent works out to 38c/500ml), but her Product Knowledge File didn't answer my questions, like: if the stuff kills all germs dead, then how can it be biodegradable? Doesn't biodegradable mean that the germs can kill the chemicals in the cleaner? Anyway, I've photocopied the relevant portions of her Product Knowledge File, and might have to wait until their website is launched, where there will be more Product Knowledge. I'll probably give some of their products a try, see if helps the bugs to survive in our conservancy tank, thus reducing the number of times we need to call the honeysucker... And wait expectantly for miracles.
Something that made me think, though... Much of what we put into the conservancy tank is product that we won't choose to change. Like Pantene 2-in-1, Dove soap, Nivea shaving gel (for sensitive skin) and JnJ Camomile baby wash (we're too scared to change this, as from 6 weeks the boys' routine was set!) The biodegradable range is hellish expensive, and I just can't see myself using anything but Pantene. *SIGH* A little bit is better than nothing, though, eh?
And an aside... I finally let Jack Johnson off repeat in my car, and was surprised by the next CD in the shuttle: Counting Crows (Hard Candy). Gareth and I call this "Sunday Music" cos we used to listen to it on a Sunday morning, and because the first song on the CD starts with "On certain Sundays in November..." I just love good music and good lyrics:
"Time expands and then contracts
When you are spinning
In the grips of someone
Who is not an ordinary girl"

Star-nosed moles

I'm enjoying the thirst for knowledge the boys have... I'm wondering if it's an age thing, or an exposure thing, but it's fabulous. Yesterday we taped "The Life of Mammals" on BBC Prime while we were having "sun-downers" on the beach, it was an episode about mammals that eat insects (insectivorous?) After beach and bath, the three boys sat down to watch it, while I made a highly nutritious supper of bovril toast and cheese, with optional yoghurt on the side. They were riveted. Apart from Timmo's occasional punctuation of David Attenborough's narration with "What's Yat, Dad", it was like someone had put my family on mute (ie bliss for me). Lasted just over half an hour before the springs in those little legs needed exercising again.
This morning, I wandered bleary-eyed into the boys' room, after they'd been militarily dressed by Dad and offered them "sharing-caring porridge and something on TV". Timmo says, without hesitation, "Timmo wants the insect one". I must have looked confused, cos he said "Please Timmo wants the insect one". Well, sharing-caring porridge went down a treat, and the boys were again riveted to elephant shrews, star-nosed moles, golden moles and pangolins. They've even started listening for David Attenborough to tell them what the critters were, before asking "What's Yat, Dad/Mom", now saying: "Look, Mom, a pangolin, a pangolin". I love it. And I love that they didn't ask for Jay-Jay the Jet Plane or Noddy.
This weekend Mom and I sorted out baby clothes (cos I had a Saturday night "min-dae" scare), washed them and figured out what we still need. Also parted with many home-knitted jerseys, a difficult task that I needed my mom's permission for. "It's the journey, not the destination, you know" she says, in her commonest accent. So, just in time for the end of winter, there are going to be some less-cold babies out there.
We also had some scrapbookers around for most of Sat ("cropcircle" of friends) to make baby albums. I've nearly finished Amra's one. Had great fun with Ali, Kim and Sarah. Ali and Kim shared their birthstories with me, at my request (not an entirely good idea, as my psyc had a little information overload on Sat night, preventing me from sleeping...) We ate chocolate brownies and missed Heidi.

Young One: Amra Fae

Nick & Sheree have a little girl, born last Wednesday (by NATURAL BIRTH, in South Africa, awesome, huh?) Her name's Amra Fae, and is just so sweet.

Wishing you 3 long stretches of sleep and lots of love...

hiccups

A bad night with Matthew last night... I'm not actually complaining, because they're few and far between now. Just in time, perhaps. But while in bed with Matt clinging to me for dear life, this babe within gives me two sharp kicks in the ribs. Perhaps it was the way I was lying (guiltily) or perhaps this little thing knows an emotion called jealousy so early on in life (woe is me), but it was really, REALLY sore. My first reaction was: smack it! how dare it treat its mommy like that. Then I realised (ok, this is somewhere between 1 & 3 in the morning), I am going to smack my own belly, which is decidedly counter-productive. Oh, boy, I have some adjustments to make... I'm pretty sure that I'm going to treat this like a new born babe, and not like a 2.5 year boy who knows better... Pretty sure, but not absolutely. Please don't report me to welfare, Gareth needs me.
Then, after I'd extracted myself (painfully and painfully slowly) from Matt's grip and his bed, and I sandwich myself into my own, between Gareth's and Gizmo's sprawled bodies, the babe within starts to hiccup. Now for most of you moms, this is not new, I'm sure. But for me, it was. I never felt the boys hiccup. Not sure if it's because they were two and it was too tight to hiccup, or because one's movements were masking the other's hiccups, but I didn't feel it, well, not convincingly. This was so regular and so sweet. I lay there grinning and contemplated waking Gareth up (don't be STUPID). I really should have been sleeping, this morning I'm feeling quite shattered. But full (of baby, really, but also full of family and other good feelings).

Interacting

The boys (2.36 yrs old) are chatting away in the car at 6.30-ish this am, and I'm resting with my eyes closed (yes, Gareth's driving) and I hear:
Matt: where we going?
Tim: to school.
Matt: nonsense, not to school. to nana's house.... for breakfast.
Tim: no, to school.
*longish pause*
Tim: oh, to nana's house.
Matt: yes, Tim, you right. to nana's house. you clever.
Gareth and I grin. Hearing them talk to each other, and hearing ourselves in their talk. And listening to Matt being his "class captain" self...

I remember seeing a book on twins (back 2 years ago when I wanted to buy any book with "twins" in the title) called "the joy of twins". And I'm thinking (then), joy? JOY? you mean, like flippen hard work, policing, crying, sweating, cleaning... Now I see it. My friends don't see this kind of interaction between their kids until much later. Then it's not on the "same grounds" like this - one being older. I'm starting to feel it.

ETA: Oh, and I wanted to write an entry about an email from Donna Downey and how I'm going to miss her and other "scrap-legends" coming to Jhb in early September, but I'll save it for another entry in case I gush. I know, gushing ain't pretty.

Send happy dust for a natural birth

It's been good having the Schonkens around... They're off today, to Joburg, then back to the UK. I've so enjoyed chatting to Mel, getting a fresh view on birth & breastfeeding. SAfricans are just a bit stuck in their ways, like: if breastfeeding doesn't work, don't stress, just move on (no guilt trip), which is cool, but what about PERSEVERANCE? And natural birth... my friends, contemporaries are thinking I am thoroughly INSANE to even consider having a natural birth second time around. My previous caesar is just the perfect excuse to have another one... One friend was so shocked - she asked me when my caesar date was, I said I'm having a natural birth (Dr B says ok, thus far...) so I'm playing it by ear. She nearly fell down. Really.
So, you can guess what's on my mind at the moment. I've started reading the baby encyclopaedia mom gave me, for signs and breathing etc. I'm talking to a select few about their experiences. I've chatted to mom, who says, "you're not having pain relief, surely" (um, gas? does that count?) And been thinking about what's actually making me nervous. There are a few things: not know when (ja, but I didn't know with the boys, and that was cool), and the thought of a forceps or suction birth (Emma: "no cone-heads.") Need to get some reassurance from Dr B about these two - you only get to hear the horror stories. Oh, and the other thing I'm SO scared about: if something goes wrong, I'll feel like it's my fault (for not just going the caesar route.) But then, as a mom, I get to feel guilty about everything anyway. That's in-built.
So... Next week at my next scan, Dr B will probably say yeah or nay to natural birth. Holding thumbs. And trying my best to just trust him... Watch this space.
Rambling post, I know, but that's how my brain's working at the mo'.

Sweltering in the African Winter

We've had a blinking hot weekend! All of about 32 degrees most of the weekend. Berg winds (which we got 4 different explanations for, over Sunday lunch) and dry dry heat. Lovely for the beach. Mom, Jenny, Tim & I went to the beach on Saturday, for about 3 hours, and Tim swam and swam ("deeper, mommy, Timmo go under"). I love the look of delight on his face jumping over the waves. It was surprisingly calm (Jenny's word) having only one of them with us. Tim and I made sandcastles and flags with twigs and leaves. We drew shapes and letters in the sand (a capital D is not just "for Dad", it's also a semi-circle... I love how they see things out of the box!) We crawled around like babies and giggled. We sat in the water and let the waves catch our feet. The water was coolish and as flat as Greece-waves. Mom (Granny) rested and Jenny read "First Wives Club" (with a condom on her plastered wrist). Delightful morning, considering I got out on the wrong side of the bed.
Then yesterday, we went to the organic market. Well, there's not much of a "market" on a Sunday, but they serve a jolly fine breakfast (I had avo, bacon & feta on w/wheat bread, yum) and they have much entertainment for the boys. Jumping castles (x2!) and swings, and a sandpit, and chickens and some guineapigs (hiding). The photos are typical of these two little boys' personalities. Tim is a blur of activity & Matt stops to look and smile at the camera. Gorgeous.

We bumped into the Johnsons and Gerry at the organic market. Lynne was very impressed with the boys eating their egg breakfasts with knives and forks. What a mess, but you just have to let them. Besides, I didn't have to clean up!

Just "talkin' shop"

I've just got my head around our first payment to a contractor. It involved drawing up a budget control form to show retentions, performance guarantees, insurance etc, and writing a cheque out for a whole bunch of money. Finally things are MOVIN' on our programme. Feels like we're on the home stretch.
The project we're paying out for is one of my "pets". I visited it first nearly two years ago. We're building an access road for a group of villages called Gubenxa, near Elliot (1,000 km round trip from here!) So you can see that this place REALLY needs the road, here's some pics I took of one of the worst spots in the road. At the bottom of the hill (pic on right), there were about 4 rusty taxi wrecks. We need to build the road before we can get materials in to build the other projects: a sheep shearing shed and two preschools. I am SO SO SO chuffed about this. I feel for once, that my job is actually making a difference, somewhere, somehow.

Just had to share...

"it's always better when we're together"

I really don't have time for this, but what the hell... while it's still fresh. I've been listening to Jack Johnson (or is it John Jackson?) in the car, and the first song is pretty awesome. Made me think about the amazing man I have as a husband...
A couple of Saturdays ago, we were chatting with a v good friend of my mom's and her sister (friend's sister). Her sister is pretty "old school" and kept on at me: "How DO you cope with twins?" & "How on EARTH are you going to cope with twins and a new one?" etc. I got rather annoyed... Mostly because it's not about me. And totally invalidates Gareth's role as a father (in our sense of the role, rather than hers.)
How do WE cope? We cope cos we're sensitive to each other's needs. We know when one of us has totally had enough and needs some time & space. In the last few months, I've needed more space than he has, and he's totally risen to the occasion. I get to drink tea in front of Oprah a couple of times a week. I get to park off while he's bathing the boys. I get tea in the mornings while he's dressing the boys. I'm really not boasting... I'm just publicly saying how much I appreciate him.
We'll manage "3 under the age of 3", because we're a team. And because, somewhere, in between, we're together.

Baby within

We had a check-up with Dr B yesterday... Everything looks hunky-dory! 33 weeks and counting! Dr B said "you still keen to push this baby out?" and I said, rather nervously, "yes, but you're in charge." Things looking fine (for now) for a natural birth, something I thought he'd be vemently against cos of previous caesar. So we're holding thumbs that babe is willing. This was my first visit to Dr B without having a scan... with the boys, he scanned everytime, just to check they were ok & to compare their weights to make sure they were keeping up with each other. Yesterday he felt around the belly, and used an ancient earpiece to listen to the heartbeat ("nice & strong"). Babe didn't like that much - gave him a skop on that cold earpiece.
I'm feeling a bit different today... I think the babe has moved a bit, making me a lot more comfortable. I am not waddling today, and I can get in & out the car/bed/chair easier.
Due date (for now) 18th Sept.

Haircuts

We had a haircut yesterday (thanks, Nana) and we look SO cute. Like real little boys.



Thanks for your emails, Em. Sounds like you're in your element! Esp getting your drinks and meals paid for!! Shot. Charm doesn't have language barriers.

It's (actually) all good!

This is why:
1. I have the sweetest "baby" sisters (see comments, previous post)
2. I have the most loving, caring and amazing husband (also a good canoo-er)
3. I have the most intelligent children in Sub Saharen Africa [sic] :)
4. I live in the most awesome place in the world
5. I have a mad granny next door
6. I CAN drink Savannahs (well, at least, one Sav Lite every now & again)
7. I don't live "in the land of Noooh Eng-ga-leesh" (although some days I do feel like no-one understands me)
8. I now know how to say "hello" and count to 5 in Chinese
9. Kathy will send me Simple Scrapbooks (not sure if it's any closer to America than here, but she said she'd try)
10. Both waxer & waxee survived
11. I have discovered Tempo Peanut
Feeling better already...

Feeling sorry for myself

I'm feeling sorry for myself today. Why?

1. I'm not feeling well. I have a sore throat and stuffy nose. And I can't take anything for it 'cept VitC, Fisherman's Friend and Panado.

2. I broke my rule about sleeping in one of the boys' beds. OK, I use the word "sleeping" liberally - I lay in Matt's bed from 4.17 until about 5.48 this morning, while he slept. I crept out of it before he woke up, so he didn't think I was there all that time. I blame #1 above for my lapse in strength.

3. I had to play bad cop (again) with Matthew's eating at Nana's house. He decided he liked the feel of warm oats porridge in his hands and spread it liberally in 1 square metre around his chair (while Nana & I were concentrating on getting porridge down Timothy's throat). I wondered why he was so quiet while we were feeding Tim...

4. I won't be able to hold Anna tonight when we visit the Schonkens because of #1 above.

5. I would really like to go and buy myself the latest edition of Simple Scrapbooks magazine, but this being a very, very long way from America, I will not find it (or any back issues I don't have). But trying (during work hours, of course) is appealing.

6. I have a bikini wax at 12. And I cannot take drugs or alcohol cos I'm pregnant.

Send me happy dust please (the non-allergic kind). Thanks

Sub-Saharan Africa

I always thought mom had coined the phrase "in sub-Saharan Africa". I see it on the Standard Bank site this morning, and think: "Wow, Std Bank is using mom's phrase... In fact, "sub-Saharan Africa" is now a bona fide region of the world. Cool." Now I'm questioning whether I've put my mom on a pedestal, or whether she is actually as cool as I think she is.
I'll stick with #2.

Mirror

Our boys are nearly at the "why?" stage. At the moment, it's "what's this, mommy" or "what you saying (to me), mommy" or "what you speaking about, mommy". Ad infinitum. It's intensely annoying, especially when you're trying to have a conversation with your significant other (quite a rare occurrence when both boys are awake.) We have a new strategy: answer them once (or twice), then ask them the question back. By answering their own question, they seem satisfied and stop.
Yesterday while the boys were eating supper (cheese toast, tomato & naartjie) and I was making a salad, Tim started: "What's this, mommy?" "Lettuce, Timmo." "What's this, mommy?" "Lettuce, Timmo. What's this, Timmo?" "Lettuce, mommy" (rolling his eyes, like don't you KNOW?) Then Tim starts on Matthew... "What's this, Matt?" "Cuu-cumba, Tim." Here's where it changes... Tim starts clapping his hands and yelling "YAY!!". Then "You clever, Matthew." Gareth & I giggle behind our hands and marvel at our little boy.
I remember being nervous about having kids (nearly 4 years ago, a bit late, although swapping them for a pair of labrador puppies has been a very appealing thought recently), that they would be mirrors. Displaying the best and worst of me for the world to see. Well, there you are. It's happening.

Emma's safe & sound

Emma's hit Tainan, and staying with Kim Wilson (sister to my best friend, how small is this world?) Emma and Kim are chalk & cheese, so that's going to be interesting!

Her email says:
"Arrived safely in Tainan... all good! Lots of South Africans around, all
very friendly and very eager to help me settle in.
Am staying in an apartment with another South African girl who has been
looking after me and showing me around. The apartment is 10min walk from
school,close to all the shops and has a massive pool... all very convenient.
Its extremely hot, 35 degrees (just like when we were in Thailand, Kath).
Everyone drives scooters so have been cruising around on the back of Kim's
scooter (my flatmate) with her in traffic where there are no rules!
Am at school now, everything is VERY different, but the other teachers are
friendly and helpful.Have been out and about quite a bit, checking out the
markets and local Western pubs. We have an hour and a half lunch break now
so am going out for lunch (its extremely cheap to eat out and people seldom
cook) with some of the other teachers."

Missing you, Em!

BTW:
Listening to: Either Prehistoric Animal Brigade, on repeat or Nora Jones (depending on who's in the car)
Eating: Vanilla Yogi-sip

So Emma left today... ("big boy beds" update)

And we cried. It was quite a fiasco, really… SAA strikes meant that the 1-time flight was delayed, and she only had a 2 hr stop-over in Jhb. So we were phoning everyone in sundry to make sure she got onto the flight. And she’d managed to pack her backpack to only 6kgs so that she could take her 2 surfboards (16kgs). 1-time were fine, but CathyPacific put up a fuss. She ended up in tears (real ones) and paid R1,300 to get them on the flight (having to make up an Irish address to change her $s – she’s on an Irish passport). Boy. When I phoned her at 12.43 (flight scheduled to leave at 12.50), she was relieved, and we cried some more.

Some funny moments, at least... Photo on right shows "Thandi & Mary" (Em aka Thandi & Shupiwe aka Mary flying in the face of racial prejudices). Very funny. And I had pants too big on (cos all others too small), so everytime I dissolved into tears (I AM hormonal, you know), my safety pins popped and I had to hold onto my pants, which mean I dissolved into fits of giggles. I must have looked really funny. Shupiwe didn't know whether to console me or to giggle with me. We opted for giggling.

BIG BOY BEDS

This is really an aside, with Em leaving today... Finally the big boy beds arrived! We managed to convert the boys' nursery into this last night in half an hour (including hoovering!) The boys LOVE their Nemo duvets ("du-bays"), thank you Pops & Marion. And are really big boys now. I didn't feel any of that "aaaaawwww, they grow up too quickly", I'm just proud of these two little men of mine. They slept fine - Matt woke once crying for mommy, and Tim liberated himself from big boy bed and big boy room to bang on our door at 5.15. Not bad going. Holding thumbs for the next few weeks (but realistically expected the worse.) Now I can finally start getting the next nursery organised.

The Giz

I had a laugh-out-loud moment today. This doesn't happen often. It's not that I'm a sad person or anything, it's just that I'm a little reserved.
I got out the shower this morning and the Giz was sitting at his empty bowl. Now normally, he jumps off the windowsill, stretches against the shower door and squeaks (he doesn't really meow) to let me know he's there and hasn't been fed for 12.5 hours (which is a lie, because G has usually fed him half an hour earlier). This morning, though, he stays on the windowsill, looks down at his empty bowl without looking at me, and then looks out the window. I just had to laugh. It was like he was trying to be subtle for the first time in his life. Or perhaps he was contemplating leaving for good because we kicked him off the bed about 12 times last night (I finally relented to having his dribbling chin on my elbow.)

"I just can't believe this"

Had to share this pic with you - Emma surfing with dolphin in the Transkei (Mdumbi)

Promise of a "big boy bed"

We had a bad night with Matthew again... we've been bribing him (successfully, thus far) with a "big boy bed" for weeks, and for some reason, this promise slipped his mind last night. Or perhaps it's because we haven't come good on that promise yet (darn supplier in EL - said 6 weeks, which was up 3 weeks ago). So last night we have to go to him, all of 6 times. My conversation went like this:
Me: What you crying for, Matt?
Matt: Matt want you, mom.
Me: Do you remember that you only cry for mom if you've got an eina? Then mom can try and fix it and you can go back to sleep. Do you have an eina, Matt?
Matt: Yes, Matt got an eina.
Me: Where's your eina, Matt, so I can kiss it.
Matt: Inside
AAAWWWWW

Then later
Matt: Whaaaaa
Me (lying on the floor on oversized teddy cos back sore): I'm right here, Matt
Matt: Come to me, mom. Hold my hand.
Me (trying to reach into his cot without moving off giant teddy): I'm here, Matt.
Matt: Come closer to me, mom.

You know, these little guys really know how to get inside you. How can I get cross? So I hold his hand until he falls asleep, and stagger back to bed. Give Gareth a shove next time. "How did you get him to sleep, sweet?" (wanting to know his strategy, esp if it doesn't involve lying on teddy and holding Matt's hand for half an hour). "I got very cross with him." Sorry, no can do. I think that's a Dad's job. I can only feel very sorry for myself today (although I only got up 2 out of 6 times) and talk about "big boy bed" today to see if it'll work again.

Home from holidays

We’re just back from Kenton (yesterday). Had the most stunning weather… thought about all you poor buggers in the UK who don’t have the winters we do. The days were perfect (just a little wind on two days, but we got to fly a kite on one of them.) The boys had a ball on the beach every day. Gareth dug a great big hole, which served as a playpen for a while. Cool. And I even swam…

Now: for those of you out of Africa, but with your hearts still here… Find this book. It’s FABULOUS! Jacqui Taylor’s African ABC. The boys love it, but are still learning the difference between an acacia and an “umbrella” tree.

On Holiday (almost)

We're off to Kenton for a week. The annual family (van Harmelen) retreat... The beach in winter in this country is just wonderful. Lovely warm days, the occasional warm-enough-to-swim water and NO WIND. I'm looking forward to spending time with Aunty Heather and Uncle Derek (the boys call him Uncle Dick and occasionally Father Christmas.) They're really great people. Esp. Heather - she's always been a favourite of mine in the in-law tribe, cos she enjoys a good bottle (or two) of wine and has a great sense of humour.
We're hoping to take the boys up the creek (Bushman's & Kariga rivers) in the canoe and Gareth's going to teach them to fish for bullies using a hook and line. (Ugg... BOYS! We caught them humanely with a net and kept them in a bucket... no dead periwinkles and no dead bullies.)
Other news... I'VE BEEN ASKED TO TEACH ANOTHER CLASS (yes, I'm shouting!) I'm SO chuffed. I've got some goodies together and going to play with it at Kenton. Probably a baby album (for stork party gift). Found some great new Deja Views paper (mix n match, chose the "Kiwi" range).
Also saw the gynae (with the boys... they were VERY well-behaved) today. This babe is already 1.6kg, and will probably be around 3.2-ish when born. Far cry from the 2.1kg Timothy (now brute) was. Amazing. Things looking pretty good. Didn't see any gender-specific parts, but to tell the truth, didn't actually think of looking until afterwards. Matthew told Dr B that it's definitely a brother. Watch this space (for a while... at least 10 weeks!)
Off to a "party" with the newly-arrived Schonkens at lunchtime. Good to have "old" friends around. Phil's just got a new job, which sounds like it's a good promotion (at a new school) in the UK, so he's chuffed. Tried (for the first time) to get Gareth to consider going to the UK. Not likely. Things would have to get MUCH WORSE here... Gareth just feels pretty undervalued in his job, but there are ways to remedy that without the drastic move on becoming a Pom.
And we're planning to go to Australia next year (as a fine family of five, are we sane?), but not as a "look-see"... we just want to see Kath and travel in an amazing country.
This was going to be a quick post. Forgive the verbage.
Later...

Today: ... to the rediculous

3. I was given our yearly calendar today. My initial thought was "how unlike Mvula, so early" until I realised it's a 2005 one. I can tear it in half and it'll be good for me for less than 2 months (I go on maternity leave in September.) Typical. We got our diaries this year in February.

4. I spent R245 on a new "hair-do". I think I should post a pic. It's rather nice, and probably won't look this good again (until I go to the salon for next 6 month check-up)

5. www.right-brained.blogspot.com A really funny account of giving birth to twins. Obviously not from the mom's perspective. Read it. It made me laugh and cry. It smudged my mascara.

6. I gave Gareth two spanking new knives for our 9-year anniversary. He was very chuffed. Hello Mrs Smith.

Today: Sublime...

Things that have made me think today:
1. Our very sweet and shy financial guy was shot in the foot this morning, after tackling an armed attacker in our (Umtata) office this morning. He and Chief took them on - one on one. It seems that they mistook our office (mvula) for the cash loans office (umvimba) upstairs. Garnet narrowly escaped the incident by being a little late this morning. Another good reason never to get to work on time.
2. London's burning

"I've got a blog."

I’ve had two comments about my blog today that made me smile. Perhaps we’re not supposed to do these things for other people, but ultimately we do. To gain some acceptance, to let people see inside our heads, to be entertaining, to play with ideas. It made me think of something one of my “scrapbooking idols” said on her 2Peas profile. Made me giggle to switch it around to blogging:

“Blogging has changed my life.

It has made me a better person. A better wife. A better mother. A better friend. A better listener. A better writer.

My real passion is blogging the everyday moments, all the little things that add up to make our lives so full and wonderful and crazy all at the same time. The little things the bring such joy.

I found blogger.com in April 2005, right when I was beginning my blogging obsession, and felt right at home. I can not begin to tell you the impact this site has made in my life. One of the greatest blessings in my life is the opportunity to be a part of this creative engine.”*

*Ali Edwards http://www.twopeasinabucket.com/cg_bios.asp?id=153 (not to be confused with Ali of "Ode to Ali")

Going Green

Yesterday Emma brought home a surfer-traveler called John. Em is almost as good as mom at bringing in waifs and strays, but usually they’re single-syllable-speaking surfer-dudes (aside from Shupiwe, naturally.) John and I had the most interesting conversation (after picking myself up from the boys’ floor, exhausted) about greywater, sustainable water use (and appropriate technology in rural Africa), urine diversion systems and biodegradable detergents*. Now I’m fired up. About getting our greywater system beefed up and exploring some biodegradable products (not many here). Also having some very unlike-me entrepreneurial tendencies/thoughts. Even emailed Dad for advice. Just after talking about simplifying this life of mine (read “bail out of real world.”) Found a good eco-mag (www.nrdc.org/onearth) and a US line of great looking products (www.seventhgeneration.com). Can you tell how much “verk” Mommy’s doing today??

*detergent - great American word, isn’t it?**
**foot notes are fun, hey?

We are the special two

"And we will only need each other, we'll breathe together,

Our hands will not be taught to hold another's,

... we are the special two.

And we can only see each other, we'll bleed together,

These arms will not be taught to need another,

'Cause we are the special two."*

Gareth and I turn 9 today! Happily. I've bought him a decidedly inappropriate gift (watch this space), which is probably a good reflection of our marriage. We really are the best of friends. He still rocks my world. And he talks me off ledges. What a beaut.

* Missy Higgins "Sound of White" album (slightly altered-by my hand). My favourite album at the moment (deep, slightly dark, v moving & musically brilliant, IMHO). I'll be playing this to bebe#3, cos it'll be familiar to her/him!

In my next life, I'll have a home office like this!

With its classic styling, this adjustable modular system is well suited to a home office. Details like metal label holders and steel bail pulls give it vintage style. The long desktop fits atop two file cabinets to create a desk, three to make a console. A corner desktop provides a spacious work area between two file cabinets; a sturdy metal support leg (see More Images) at the center provides maximum stability. Simple assembly required. The matching file cabinets have the look of vintage bank furniture. The two-drawer cabinet holds letter and legal files; the three-drawer cabinet has two sections for supplies and a large drawer for files. The hutch rests on the desktop and offers two drawers and seven variously sized compartments for supplies. The lateral file cabinet and bookcase can be used separately to create a seamless addition to your work surface or can be combined to create a freestanding unit. The bookcase has a cord cutout on the bottom shelf and can be stacked to create a four-shelf unit. The CPU cabinet has one drawer and can be configured with two adjustable shelves to the right of the opening, or rearranged to create two wide shelves. Drawers are fitted with smooth-rolling glides. Choose Antique White or Black with brushed-nickel bail pulls; or Antique Honey or Mahogany stain with matte-brown bail pulls.

Random thoughts

While staring at a grey (read "white") eyebrow hair that needs plucking, I was contemplating what to write in my blog today... A few things crossed my mind, I'll share with you:
1. I could write something witty about what "scrapbooking for the uninitiated" is, but Heidi already did. :)
2. I could post a pic of my class on Sat (I had a ball), but I left my camera at home, so that'll be another post.
3. Kath's v successful fundraising event (her pic in the Perth Sunday Times social pages is a hoot... she called it "porn star pose" which isn't far wrong!) Can't post the pic cos it's tied up with some others & some few words on a acrobat file, which I have no idea how to get into a jpg to post. But here's one a little more "decent". She raised R10,000 for her charity and is planning for another "event".
*
4. On the way back from Umtata yesterday, my boss/manager Goodenough said "the trouble with earning a living, is that you've got to keep earning to keep living" (or something like that). I have had some days where I would just do ~almost~ anything to opt out. But thoughts about how to simplify my life, turn into "pros & cons" lists, which get too complex to think about. We love our house. We are fiscally** comfortable. We just don't get enough time to ourselves... I'd like to be around more for the boys... This morning I kissed them goodbye (I was only 10 min late), then had to come back upstairs to find my glasses, and Matt said "Mommy, you back" with such delight. And the other day, I heard Em & Tim coming up the stairs with Em saying "Where's Mommy" and Tim saying "Mommy's at verk." But I know I'd just go blazing bonkers if I spent all day, or even half day, at home with them... Eina.

* still using ImageShack to host pics... tried the blogger one, but took way to long
** couldn't resist, I just LIKE that word!

Teaching my first class

Tomorrow I teach my first class... in Scrapbooking. You may have seen some references to this hobby/obsession previously in the blog. Tomorrow's the day. This is something I'd like to do for a living (like most Scrapbook-OCDers), unfortunately in such a tiny town as this, it won't be a "good" living.
I'm teaching a calendar. I made many for Christmas presents last year, and people liked them, so now I'm teaching 8 ladies how to make their own for gifts. A bit early for Christmas, but post-September, the van Harmelen's are going to have a different set of priorities (bottles, more nappies and sleep).
Going to be quite fun - we have to finish 13 pages in 3.5 hours. V v fast.
Wish me luck...