why they're a good idea

Kids I mean.

Two families near and dear to us have lost their Dads in the last few weeks. Both the gentlemen were elderly, and sick, these were not shock departures, but that doesn't make them any less tragic.

They've both left beloved widows, women they'd married young and loved for well over 40 years. Both families had kids - three and four respectively. All these kids are grown, married, some have children of their own.
All these sad and bereft offspring have gathered round their mothers, round each other, and from both families countless stories have emerged of love, loss, humour, support.

The support. Legal, financial, logistical, emotional. The widows have had daughters sharing their beds, sons making difficult calls, son-in-law's cooking, daughters-in-law executing wills, grandchildren distracting them, giving them the daily reminder that life goes joyfully on.

This is not the only reason having children is a damn good idea. But it's one of the strongest arguments I've heard recently.

And I'll make a point of remembering it on those days.

mini-intuition

Sometime ago I was leaving the house with the girls.

I pulled the car out the driveway and noticed, from the corner of my eye, a man leaning against my neighbour's wall kind of diagonally across the road from our house.
He was well-dressed, mustached, sober (looking) but yet there was something just not right about him ...

He wasn't close enough to either my neighbour or the next house's gate to necessarily be waiting for someone from either of those houses.
He wasn't relaxed enough to be killing time or alert enough to be expecting someone.
He wasn't looking at me but was definitely watching.

I got out the car to close our gate and he started walking away from us down the road, but he turned to look back twice. I felt uneasy. He turned the corner and disappeared.

Just then a police patrol car came towards me from the opposite direction. I know by now to trust my gut, so flagged them down and told them what I'd seen. They thanked me, said they'd drive past him, and I got back in my car feeling a little alarmist but more secure.

'Who were you talking to Mum?' asks Friday from the back seat. My car had been facing away from the cop van, she couldn't comfortably turn around while strapped into her car seat.
'Those policemen.' I answered.
'The policemen who look out for bad people Mum?'
Hesitantly, 'Yes.' (Not sure who told her that but it makes sense I guess.)
'Bad people like that man in the black & white shirt Mum?'
'Which man?' (Surely she's not saying what I think she's saying?)
'That man who was on the pavement over there.'

I'd said nothing. I'd not gestured in the man's direction while talking to the police. She'd not even been able to see that conversation.
What she knew of that man she'd possibly gathered from my body language, and more likely from her own intuition.

I hate that my daughter must already know that there are bad people in this world. But I love that she's already developing a gut instinct. Unfortunately she's going to need it.

walking with kids: Newlands Forest

Newlands Forest is no secret to anyone living in the Southern Suburbs. 'Specially anyone with a dog.

In the news a few years ago due to the excessive amount of dog poo one had to wade through at the start of the walk, a community initiative to supply poop bags and specially allocated bins has improved this immensely.

Things to love about Newlands Forest ...

... it's a forest, but it's not 2 minutes walk from the depths of suburbia
... the many track options, catering to all time allowances and length of legs walking
... the dogs - from interesting and well-bred to very ordinary, and sometimes very weird - we once met a  Dachshund/Rottweiler cross. I'll let you picture that one ...
... its so, so kiddie-friendly

  

... so many other Capetonians love it, everyone you meet is friendly and relaxed

... a chance to see the Fire Station helicopters up close and personal

... cool in summer, protected in winter, very seldom windy, never too muddy - it's a perfect walk all year round

... and one of the best places in Cape Town to track the changing of the seasons.

Look at those new, bright green leaves. Summer's a-coming!

TIP: the 'usual' way to access Newlands Forest (when coming from the City Bowl) is a hair-raising right turn off busy Rhodes Drive and into the often overly-full parking lot. The lesser-known but easier way, is to drive down Newlands Avenue, take a right into Cypress Rd (just after Forries) and follow the road round into Cedar Rd. Park and walk through the subway which runs under Rhodes Drive. The subway makes great echoes and look out for the gigantic South African flag painted on one of the garage doors in Cedar Rd.

the best thing(s) about a childfree morning ...

... jaywalking.

... talking aloud without having to explain myself.
(mumble) 'Damn, I should've turned there.'
'What did you say Mum?'
(slightly louder) 'I said I should've turned there but it doesn't matter, I'll take the next one.'
'The next what Mum?'
'The next turn.'
'This one Mum?'
(deep breath) 'No, the next one coming up.' (mumble) 'Damn, that's a one-way'
'What's a one-way Mum?'
(little exasperated) 'Um, I can't explain right now sweetie, could we just not talk while I work out where I'm going?'
(small pause) 'Are we lost Mum?'
You get what I mean?

... eating chocolate for breakfast. And not having to share it.

... not carrying wet wipes (though this can sometimes be a disadvantage).

... listening to Dr Eve on 567 CapeTalk.

mama daze

This is a cheat post. I'm just so busy sorting out toys you know?

3 of my favourite international (all American in this case) 'mommy bloggers' recently posted about those days. Have a read and I've no doubt you'll know exactly what they mean.

SouleMama - a rare candid glimpse from a mama who usually exudes nothing but peace.

Amalah - loving the mayhem.

Boatbaby - breathing deeply and taking it slow.

Enjoy!

the 7-day toy cure

I'm a-doing it!

I'm not a huge fan of online de-cluttering or organising tutorials, but this is one I'm happy to try out. We have, as I'm sure many families do, TOO MANY TOYS.
Could there be a more shockingly First World problem?

I'm quite good about a (fairly) regular clear-out, but as with the clothes mentioned yesterday, until now I've always wanted to keep things for my youngest growing up, or toys which have an emotional value - either for the person who gave them to us or the stage in their lives my kids played with them.

But now that Sunday's outgrowing toys as rapidly as she is clothes, it's time to do a real cure.

I'll let you know how it goes ... and feel free to start it anytime yourself, I'll update links to the daily (gulp) 'assignments'.


Day One: Create an Outbox and Touch every Toy

Day Two: Touch every Toy cont. (it sounds a little creepy doesn't it?)

Day Three: Arts & Crafts Supplies (I did this already last month. Yay me.)

Biggest challenge I foresee: keeping the 'Outbox' safe from prying eyes and hands.

Nothing suspicious about this right?

nostalgia: 2 babies, 1 shirt

What does one do with those baby clothes you just can't bear to get rid of? I'm trying to be really strict with myself as a I pass on and clear out items as Sunday outgrows them.
But when it comes to favourites, especially things both my girls have worn, I just can't do it.
Not yet.

Friday, August 2008, 14 months old

There's all kinds of tutorials on the web about framing baby clothes. Even framing them with favourite photos of your kids wearing them. I can't really imagine myself doing that, and then I really can't imagine where one would hang such a thing.

The nostalgia is all mine, not theirs, and while husband will share a fond smile I don't think he's emotionally invested enough to welcome a framed item of small clothing into our living room!

Perhaps if I had a sewing room?

Sunday, April 2011, 13 months old

I guess for now I'll keep this little shirt, and the other couple of things I can't bear to part with, safely tucked away. Taking them out every now and then to sniff, and stroke, and remember the divinity of those chubby little limbs.

We mothers are a soppy bunch aren't we? 

For some tips and ideas on keeping mementos, have a look at Martha Stewart's Memory Keeping Crafts and these two ideas from Ohdeedoh. Love that curio shelf!

a gross overshare

I realise most of this will be more info than you probably need, and I apologise if we've not known each other long enough to really go here, but when the 6th episode of grossness had assailed me and it was not yet 1pm on Saturday I knew I needed a record, and I was (just) starting to see the funny side.

It started with Friday throwing up in her bed. 04h45 on Saturday morning. She's not a puker so it was as much a shock to her as to me. Blame it on an overly-rich dinner (i.e. blame it on me).
I cleaned her up, got her some juice, tucked her into bed with her (naturally fast asleep) Dad and stripped her bed, taking the sheets down to the bathroom to put straight into the washer.

Dog poo on the bathroom floor. And Sunday's toothbrush floating in a large puddle of wee.
Clear poo, side-step wee, put sheets on to wash. Back to bed.

Morning, proper morning. Friday is fine, dog is forgiven, toothbrush is discarded but ... sheets are not clean. Turns out a domestic washing machine isn't equipped to deal with actual chunks of undigested calamari.
Stand on lawn to shake out (now, at least, clean) chunks. Rewash load.

Unpack dishwasher. Hand wash most of the contents which are not properly clean. Tackle dismantling and washing machine filters.
Swear by all I hold dear not to leave it so long 'til I do that again. Who knew dirty dishes could produce so much filth?!

Clear rotting lemons off lawn. Clear rotting lemon off toddler. Clear rotting lemon from own hair.

Buy veggies and eggs from the veggie-man who comes to our door on a Saturday. Discover hairline cracks on two of the eggs. Break one into a small container - fine - break the next - gag.

It was round about now I determined it would be criminal not to share the delights of my morning thus far.
But the fun wasn't over.

A short while later I hear Friday going off to the loo. Then the telltale eager footsteps of her sister discovering an open bathroom door ...
A scuffle, a shout, 'Mummmeeeeeeeeeeeee!'
Friday, in an attempt to prevent Sunday getting to the loo roll jumped off the throne mid-wee, dousing the floor, herself, and her sister.
Third load of laundry goes on.
It was 12h45.

The rest of the day was uneventful, in the gross stakes at least. I regaled a friend with my tale of woe, stood by dour-faced while she screamed with laughter, had a giggle despite myself.
Then leant on our garden wall and got my sleeve covered in bird shit.

Fun times.

How gross is your gross?

SlutWalk Cape Town

It's happening on Saturday.

As a woman and the mother of girls I completely support the initiative, despite being a little hesitant to reclaim the word 'slut' for myself - the only application of the term I've ever happily embraced was in reference to the state of my bedroom as a teenager (and possibly for a few years after that ... cough).

I'd actually wouldn't mind participating in the march, it excites my inner activist and feels like something which has got sufficient press and public attention that it might just achieve something in terms of raising awareness and making women feel more empowered.

However ... I can't help but think it's not going to be a great environment for a 4 year old girl. Whilst one could argue that girls need to learn about their rights etc from an early age, she's still too young for the specifics of the campaign.
She won't get the message, but she'll definitely get the visuals and my feeling is they'll be an eyeful! 

I like the idea of teaching our kids that we must stand up for our rights, marching to protect them is a South African tradition and one which I think it's important to uphold. I like the idea of showing Friday that a big group of people can come together under one banner for a just cause, I think there's an energy there which she'll enjoy.
But SlutWalk?
Not going to be her first protest march I'm afraid.

Strength to the sisters though, make sure you've got thermals on under your corsets - it's going to be cold and damp tomorrow!

we're talking about ... traffic

We've entered that zone. The zone where one can suddenly, and usually in the least conducive circumstances, be thrown a question like;
'Mum, what's in our bones?'
or
'What's under the soil Mum?' [insert answer here] 'And under that?' [er ... next answer] 'And under that?' etc etc.
or
'Mum,' holds up a tampon, 'what's this?'

Fun times. Challenging times. Thank god for the internets.

The topic of the moment is traffic: road signs, traffic lights, changing lanes, using indicators, cats eyes, green arrows, pedestrians, 4-way stops, zebra crossings, brake lights, reverse lights, how accidents happen and the favourite discussion point of all, speed limits.
Driving too fast, driving too slow, driving like an 'idiot', getting your picture taken, paying a fine. Apparently it's all f-a-s-c-i-n-a-t-i-n-g.
And must be discussed in great length whenever we drive anywhere.

A few weeks back the girls and I were driving behind my husband in his car, when a car changed lanes too close in front of him, causing him to brake suddenly and hoot loudly. I got a big fright (no one wants to see their husband taken out right in front of there eyes right?) and blasted the careless driver with my horn too as we drove past.
Friday from the back seat: 'He waved Mum, and looked sorry. I think Dad was in his blind spot.'

Is she too young to take her license?

Sometimes I long for the days when all that was demanded of me was to sing Hey Jude on repeat.
Then I remember those days are approaching once more, only this time I'll probably be expected to also explain the inner workings of the combustion engine between verses.

What are your kids talking about?

02:59

The exact time which Sunday woke for 3 out of 5 nights last week. Strange huh?

She's a much better sleeper than she once was, but still not nearly as good as her sister was at her age, and continues to be.
Sunday and Friday go to bed at the same time 7/7.30pm. Sunday has 150ml formula, this on top of often eating an enormous supper.

But regardless of how big the supper or how busy the day she will, without fail, wake between 11-12pm for a second bottle. Another 200ml down the hatch and she's back to sleep until ...

02.59. I jump awake to an outraged yell in her too-deep-for-a-baba-baba-voice: 'MAMAA!' And then there's no peace to be had until I drag myself out of my warm and very cosy marital bed and climb into bed with her.
Most times we then peacefully (if a little cramped) sleep til morning.

I marvel at the mysteries of her body clock.
I worry about indulging a 'bad' habit by sleeping with her.
I love having her warm and snuffly sleeping alongside me.
I miss cuddling up to my husband.

But one (or two) things I know for sure - we're all getting enough sleep this way and this too shall pass.
For now I'm okay with that.

marshmallow lego heads

How cute is this?

Ja okay, she's very sweet but that Lego head?! That's cute.

A friend's son recently turned 7 and had a Lego themed birthday party. Keeping it simple his parents got the talented Kirsty Paxton from Artee Parteez to host a Lego building workshop at their home and my friend made these super cute marshmallow Lego heads!
Find out how she did it here. Her mods included drawing the faces with edible pen (much less fiddly than piped icing) and using the lid of a koki or marker to cut out the knobbly bit for the top - hers are better proportioned I think. In fact, hers are better all round - well done!

I went over one evening before the party to help out. She finished up the heads and I finished up all the marshmallow and chocolate scraps.
I'm such a great friend.

And if you'd like to feel completely mesmerised,overwhelmed, inspired, inadequate, surreal, awed, normal, gobsmacked ... you actually have to decide for yourself ... check out this Lego party.
She made her own Lego-man crayons?! Er ...

walking with kids: Constantia Nek to Kirstenbosch

We've declared this summer will be the Summer of Walks. This came from the realisation that this year the girls will be just the right ages - Friday's big enough to manage fairly long walks on her own, Sunday still small enough (just!) to be carried in the backpack.

 And why wait for summer to start?

On Women's Day last week we walked along the Contour Path from Constantia Nek to Kirstenbosch Gardens.
Us and a couple of hundred other Capetonians, but no matter, we still got lots of quiet forest time and ample chance to admire the magnificent views.

Logistically the tricky part is needing two cars - one at each end. This makes the walk a manageable distance for small children, with about an hour's walking time which one can do as fast or slowly as you like, stopping for snacks and play along the way.
We left one car, with Friday's toddler/booster car seat in it, at the Rycroft Gate of Kirstenbosch Gardens on Rhodes Drive. Then, with Friday buckled into the back seat (she's tall enough now for this to be an option for short distances) and Sunday still in her proper car seat, we drove the short way on to Constantia Neck, leaving the second car there.

With Sunday in her backpack, Lego the doggie on her lead, juice and snacks in another pack and Friday clutching a sweaty handful of leaves from our garden (so we could 'find our way home'), we set off.

The first uphill part of the walk is the most strenuous, but we took it slow and soon we were on level ground, and it remained like that pretty much for the rest of the way.
This will be a perfect walk for high summer as the majority of the route is in shade, with lots of spots to stop and rest if required.

We had a picnic halfway, and then descended slowly into Kirstenbosch where Lego had to go back on her lead for the short walk through the top of the Gardens and out the Rycroft Gate to our waiting car.
Here we put Sunday in Friday's booster seat with me sitting beside her to make sure she didn't escape, strapped Friday next to me, and drove back to the Nek to collect the other car.

By road this distance is short enough to be no trouble at all, and well worth the chance to enjoy this lovely walk with the girls.
As I tucked Friday into bed that evening she said 'Mum, when I'm asleep will you have another good idea for us to go on a mountain walk again tomorrow?'.

Maybe not tomorrow my love, but we're looking forward to many more such family walks this summer.

For a more detailed map for this route and other walks in the area, I can't recommend Slingsby's Table Mountain Map more highly. Get it here.

let chaos reign

I remember a close girlfriend of mine telling me, when her boys were both much smaller, how she intentionally made plans to get them out the house most afternoons to prevent them trashing the place with their boisterous and scattered play.
I remember thinking she was possibly over-reacting a little.

I take it all back!

Now that Sunday's up and walking, creating play for herself, distributing and disseminating toys and household items with alarming efficiency, now that Friday sees her as a viable playmate, comrade and accomplice, now that both of them are into climbing (could this be the first thing Sunday's taught her big sister how to do?), dolls, dress-up, building, destructing, sand, water, chalk ... LIFE.
Now there is no peace.

And increasingly I find if I want to stay home and get anything done, I need to just let the chaos reign, and resign myself to the massive clean-up operation afterwards.

ok, there was supposed to be a video here but it's not.

kinda defeats the purpose of the post but I'm moving on.

hope you can too.

It's kinda fun though, in the moment.

Have a happy weekend!

smartie-pants

Following some defiant behaviour from Friday last week I confiscated the box of Smarties I'd given her as a treat.
Obviously her protestation was loud and indignant.

I reiterated my point, that defiance and unreasonable behaviour results in the stripping of privileges. She hit me.
I asked her not to do that, and she hit me again.

So, I took the only recourse I had available and, right in front of her, I upended the box of Smarties into my mouth and ate the lot.

I've never seen such shock register on that small face. Hot tears of disbelief literally sprung from her eyes. Even my husband looked somewhat aghast.

But with a mouthful of chocolate, and the even more delicious satisfaction of having stuck by my guns and gained the upper hand (and to be honest, a sprinkling of completely inappropriate playground Nah Na Na Na Nah), I have to confess I enjoyed every minute of it.

She's not mentioned the incident since.
Humiliation? Disbelief? Material for a therapy session at some point in the future? Time will tell ...

sleep much?

A few months ago my husband sent me a link to a UK Mother & Baby survey which claimed, after surveying 1000 mothers with children under two, that on average these mother's got 5 hours sleep a night.

We kind of scoffed at it, after 6 months of atrocious sleep from Sunday she was now only waking twice a night - a marked improvement - and I felt like a whole new person, energised, productive and happy.

However ... I started to take heed, counting the hours I got in between those wake-ups, averaging them out over a week or so, being honest with myself about what time I went to bed and, shockingly, I think I'm a 5-a-night kind of girl!
How is it possible I'm managing to get by on that?

Is this proof that the human body can adapt to anything? Am I slicing years off my life each time I push my strained and tired body and mind even further? Am I far under-reaching my potential as a human being, would I be doing a post grad in Chemical Engineering if I had more sleep? Would I be a nicer person?

Or am I just doing what generations of women have done before me: coping?

Sucking it up, doing my best, looking forward to a time (which will come, it must right?) when the kids get older and this aspect of parenting gets easier?
Living in the (sleepy) moment.

How much sleep are you getting?

walkies!

Colour me Katie did it first. And did it very nicely at that.



But the Balloon Dog is becoming a bit of an annual tradition for us too. Last year's puppy hung around for weeks, slowly deflating in weird and irregular ways until one day Friday came to me with a small piece of shrunken brown plastic and declared it Time to Throw Balloon Dog Away.
An important milestone for a then 3 year old I thought.



Our new friend is however in his first flush of youth. Filled with exuberance and adventurous spirit he had his first walk around the neighbourhood this afternoon, checking out the sights and sounds of Observatory.
And the smells, oh boy the smells!
Much better than bobbing around the Society of the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (SPCA) stand at the Baba Indaba, that's for sure.

ask mummy

There's some upheaval in the structure of Friday's school, some changes are being made which we're not very happy about.
In discussions with some of the other mothers of kids in her class I couldn't help but notice that we all mentioned consulting our mothers on this, we repeated their opinions and were all interested in what each others mothers had to say.

We're women in our mid to late 30's and we need to, and are able to, discuss our thoughts with our mothers. We value their input and respect their opinions. We heed their advice and allow it to validate our own thoughts. We accept their criticisms and sometimes change our viewpoints accordingly.

I know I'm utterly privileged to have my Mum along for this journey of parenting, to have the relationship with her that I do, to have her around at all.
I sometimes think I could not have done it without her, she scoffs at this and says of course I would have.

Maybe, but I would definitely not have done it so well.

Thanks Mum, for still being so very present for me, I hope I can do the same for my girls.

But my word that means there's many, many years of parenting yet ahead!