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.

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas, all! We had a wonderfully chilled day, which is remarkable, seeing we have three boys under the age of three, I’m renown for being (just a little) tense these days, and we were catering for 14 (excluding the three boys!) Managed to fit in 80 winks after champagne and orange juice, and a swim 10 minutes before the guests arrived. We got paid the biggest complement: “Your boys are so well behaved. You’re doing a great job bringing them up.”
Father Christmas was very generous… lots of crappy toys for the boys to keep them entertained in the short term (and no angst when they break), and some amazing things to keep them occupied in the long term (a 10 disk DVD set on animals, thanks Kath). I got some very expensive perfume, whoohooo. Take your socks off, please, Father Christmas. Tee hee.
Weather hasn’t been great… the wind’s been blowing gales, swinging from East to West at whim. Nasty. But we can usually find a sheltered spot… at the river where the boys play with their boggie [sic] boards and Nemo glasses. Ant just sleeps under the tent with Pops.

Ant's got a hair style

Or perhaps it's a non-style... He had the sides of his head shaved when in hospital (to get a drip in, which they never managed, thank heavens!) and the back of head has been rubbed smooth. So now he looks a bit like a monk - long on top and very long at the back. Mom and I were laughing at him, and he caught the joke (and didn't seem in the slighest bit offended).


And we've started potty-training the boys. Oh, boy. My life is very very shitty. Now I'm thinking I'll just take that pink pill WHEN I GET UP, and not wait until I'm almost on the edge...

Happy Birthday, Kit-Kat!

My “baby sister” is 28! I can hardly believe it. And so wise and grown-up. And absolute gorgeous. Happy Happy Birthday, Pretty Girl. We love you tons, Kath.

Quite perceptive

Tim: Matt's a tiny little... shepherd.

Did he overhear someone (not us!)? Or did he figure this one out for himself?

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.