It's all just peachy....or so they say

Life cannot always be perfect and smooth sailing, which we all know. There are days where we are short tempered; we snap at one another, we take the crap until we cannot do it any more.
The dam will slowly start overflowing, the walls will start creaking and cracking, until finlly it can not hold anymore, and it will burst with fury, sending raw emotion upon raw emotion rushing through the gaping hole, allowing itself to empty from all the pressure.
... ... ...
I started writing this post , not really knowing what to say, I'm going tgrough a stage of frustration and all I could think about is how mad I currently was at things. But then hubby sends me a link, and it broke me down in tears...
As a mother and wife, you reach a stage in your life where you feel as if you have become invisible to your husband and children...
The lady in the link explained how she realised more and more and with each day passing that she was turning into that "invisible lady" to her family, as if they noticed her less and less, to a point where she started feeling "pretty darn pathetic". Then she received a from a friend returning from her travels through England, a book about 'The Great Cathedrals of Europe', and she did not understand why until she read the inscription her friend wrote on the inside of the cover :
"With admiration for the greatness that you are building when no one sees"
"You can't name the names of the people that build the Great Cathedrals, over and over again looking at the immense works, you scan down to find the names, and it says : "Builder : Unknow". They completed things not knowing that anyone would notice.
There is a story about one of the builders who was carving a tiny bird inside a beam that would be covered over by a roof, and someone came up to him and said "Why are you spending so much time on something no one will ever see". And it was reported that the builder replied : "Because God sees". They trusted that God saw everything.
They made personal sacrifices for no credit.
One writer even goes so far as to say that no Great Cathedrals will ever be build again because so few people are willing to sacrifice to that degree."
It is at this point where I realised...God sees us! We are not invisible to Him! No sacrifice is to small for Him to notice, He smiles over everyone and He notices every tear of disappointment when things don't go the way we want them to go. But remember, we are building Great Cathedrals.
"At times, being invisible might feel like an infliction, but it should not be a disease erasing our lives, it is the cure for the disease of self-centredness, it is the antidote to our own pride."
So let's do it right, let's do it well, let's build those Great Cathedrals, not for ourselves, not for them, but for Him that sees...
Let's also take a moment and think of those whose lives are currently engulfed by pain, sorrow and loss. Let's take a moment and say a prayer for them, let's allow our love and compassion to carry them through these difficult times. Let's be grateful for those small moments, because we never know when that moment might be the last one. To all those who suffer loss after the Sandy Hook Elementary School tragedy, we pray for you, we are sorry, deeply sorry for your loss and pain.
May their memories always live forth...they are and they always will be!

Start of a closing chapter…

In all honesty, I am not in a mood for work, not at all! I would rather be home, over-dosing on Christmas Decorations and doing nothing, might even throw in a Christmas Carols CD or two (just because I can)…sounds good to me


Every shop window, street corner, lamp pole and advertisement booklet in the paper is proudly decorated with all things Christmassy…

(and it is this time of the year again….oh happy happy, unfortunately we did not attend this year due to bad weather, rain and thunderstorms)

 

We fast approached the 1st of December, the 1st of the last month of the year, time to start preparation for the end of the year…or what ever or which ever way around. I struggle to decide whether I should speed up things that need to be done, or just slow down and ease into things.

We decided to take a long-awaited and well deserved vacation this year, which I am very excited about, cause this will be the first time we take Z to the sea (shame on us, I know!). I can already feel the sand beneath my feet and between my toes, the saltiness sticking to my skin, waves crashing, sea mist on my face, sea gulls squawking…man oh man…it’s gonna be good I tell you!

This vacation will also allow us some quality family time together, something that took a bit of neglect recently, which is not even excusable, cause yes, sadly life turned demanding and filled with hurriedness. (H’s latest catch phrase in the mornings : “Mom, are we late for school again?”)

Keeping a good balance in life can be a daunting task, keeping that perfect balance can be so difficult, and focus can be lost so easily. But sometimes it takes just that little bit of extra effort, that one minute extra, a quick conversation, and sometimes no words are needed at all, a hug can mean the world to a person, appreciated more than a 1000 words. But we all need that yin-yang balance, although it might be a bit crooked at times, it still needs to be there. We will always find a way to make it work, to get that balance back, don’t know how, but we manage to do it, maybe it is programmed into our subconscious and kicks in when the brain waves goes all over the place…something like that

So, no matter what makes your yin-yang tick, just find that special something and yang away!

P.S : This was my 100th post as well...

I’m pregnant….and then not….

Ok, so I had Biology in high school till matric, I loved drawing single cell organisms, but never could biology prepare me for the fact that the human body can be mysterious and strange…very, very strange.

I missed Aunt Flo, I’m never late, maybe a few days early, but never late. And when I’m late, I know the writing is on the wall. So this time I knew something was cooking.

I did an HPT…and waited…and waited…and waited…I waited for half an hour…and there was nothing, not even ONE line, never mind two. So I got this confused looked from hubby as he asked me “What does that mean?” Uhm, in all honesty, I don’t know… I have done about 8 or 9 HPT’s in my lifetime, and never before did I get a “nothing” result, most of my previous results have been 2 lines and the odd one here and there was a 1 liner, but never a “nothing”.

So I chucked the HPT in the bathroom dustbin and went to my mom’s for a visit, but when we got back home, my curiosity got the better of me, and there I was with my hand down the dustbin, digging around for the HPT…when I finally got hold of it, it was telling me a completely different story…there on the little screen where 2 very distinct pink lines….

Two pink lines are not that bad, we have talked about maybe expanding the Biekie-bunch with maybe one more…but soon the initial excitement was drowned by fears and “what if…”.

I have not yet came to a point where I can forgive myself for failing as a mother when I had to go for the D&C last year September, I don’t think I will ever be able to do so. As a mother I was suppose to protect my littlest with every inch and every part of my body and soul…and I could not do it…I failed myself and I failed the littlest.

So how will I be able to reassure myself this time around that I will not falter and fail again? How will I be able to protect when I’m not able to trust and forgive myself…the turmoil of emotions where endless and ongoing

Made an appointment with the Gynea for the following Monday. I walked into his office and sat down in front of his desk, he asked me the general “so you think you’re pregnant” questions, after which his showed me to the examination room. I walked into the room, the glare from the florescent light a bit overwhelming as I lay down on the bed and waited. The doctor came in, pulled up my shirt a bit and tucked that little blue cloth into the top of my pants. I felt the cold jelly being squirted onto my belly, a familiarity for me and my tummy. The probe was swishing around on my tummy, examining every inch of my womb…but all I was left with was a barren image….

Ok, so this is called hysterical pregnancy (just don’t know hysterical in which way), and dates as far back as Mary, Queen of England or something…. apparently this can also be described as purely psychological, and is mostly common in dogs and mice (Any further explanation needed???)

My brain told my body to prepare for something that there was nothing to prepare for. Is this my body, mind and soul rebelling?

This time around I am fine, I am really, really fine. It is just like waking up from a very realistic dream.

But I gave this a long hard thought, and maybe we should call this quits… We have two beautiful Biekies, of which we are very proud off and whom we love dearly. May I should take a moment to stop and count my blessings, be thankful for what I have and rather concentrate on that for now




THAT kind of Mom… (Consolidation post)

Yes, well apparently I am THAT kind of mom… (The kind that does numerous blog postings, saves them on her flash drive, but never get to the point where she actually posts them on her blog….)

the mom that always forgets to send the signed documentation and correspondence back to school in time;

the mom that will ALWAYS forget something (either being shoes, ok ok, mostly shoes) at someone’s house;

but most of all, I am that kind of mom that will always forget to RSVP on time…ALWAYS!

No matter how many reminders there are of the RSVP date, somehow I manage to miss them all and will only remember 2 or 3 days after the RSVP should have happened.

A week or so ago I received a phoned call from a rather distressed grandma asking whether H will be attending her grandson’s party that Saturday…and once again I realised that I forgot to RSVP…

Apparently being organised and punctual is soooo not my OCD. Sadly I do not even try and hide the fact that I am a scatter-brain (mainly due to the fact that it is quite obvious). And maybe this is reason enough for why I opted for 2 C-section rather than normal birth…(purely because I would have not been in time for the delivery)

And even though I try on various attempts to organise and sort everything, it never lasts more than 5 days before I am back at scatter-brain square 1.

Being a scatter brain is not easy, explanation set out in numerical order :

1. I rarely remember things, and for me to remember things, I need to make notes, but if I make notes, my whole desk is soon covered with sticky notes with at least 5 messages scribbled onto each…

2. I talk gibberish, cause my brain works way faster than my mouth so sentences are formed in my head at double the speed they leave my mouth, and the more excited I get, the faster I talk, the less the other person can understand

3. My thoughts get side-tracked in an instant

4. Insomnia is basically my best friend, I will lay awake at night till early hours of the morning cause I can not get my brain to stand still, take a breath, calm down and switch off. I will never be able to fall asleep in dead quiet, either the TV or the radio should be on for me to be able to sleep (to distract my brain from over-thinking, I guess)

Oh well, anyway

A bit a Biekie, a whole lot of boy….

My Bieki-baba turned 6! As I reflect back on these past 6 years, it is amazing to see where we came from and where we are today.

Six years ago, heavy pregnant, waddling like a duck, I was scared to death of what lay ahead for us as new parents. Not knowing what the future hold was even scarier than any theme-park ride I could ever imagine! Thoughts ran through my head, thoughts like “Will we survive”, and more important…“will the baby survive!”. But we took parenthood step by step, faced each challenge as it came, overcame it and survived…and yes…the baby stayed alive as well. We got through teething, crawling, walking, potty training, bottle weaning, stitches and Emergency Rooms. We celebrated each new accomplishment with heaps of pride and joy.

And looking back, these past 6 years have been the best time of my life. Who ever though such a little person can teach you so much!

We allowed H to decide what he wanted for his birthday, and the instructions were plain and simple : A party at the Spur and a lucky packet filled with toys for a present. And said instructions were carefully adhered to.

We organised a Spur birthday party for him and a few friends, and granddad was his hero when he showed up with a big bag filled to the brim with lucky packets, 24 lucky packets to be precise. Needless to say, my house is littered with plastic lucky packet toys, which can be found in every nook and cranny. He even took a few lucky packets to school as part of his lunch….

Congratulations with your 6th birthday my precious littlest Biekie, thank you for being part of our lives, for enriching our lives with love, joy and happiness, thank you for the lessons you taught us as parents. And we are looking forward to many more years to come!

We also recently celebrated my 31st birthday…damm… 3 1…. (please note that I do not feel 31, and no, I do not feel old or wish to refer to myself as old)

As part of the birthday celebration, hubby bought me the book “Bloom : Finding beauty in the unexpected”. I started reading the blog of Kelle Hampton (Enjoying the small things) when her birth story post of Nella spread like wild fire. Whilst reading the post, I bowled my eyes out; I could literally feel every single strand of raw emotion ripping through me. I fell in love with the Blog, I await each blog posting with great anticipation, follow it like there is no tomorrow… It feels like this blog became a household name for me, the “I’ve know her for years’ type of reaction. But getting back to the book, I’m reading it very, very slow, only a few pages at a time, savouring each moment, each phrase, each paragraph. I know I will read the book for a second time (and maybe a third) just to make sure that I did not miss anything, the smallest piece of detail.

 

I kind off like to idea of being 31, it feel so grown-up’ish, but instead of settling into a life that most woman my age does, I still do prefer sitting outside in the sandpit, playing with the littlest, digging holes and building bridges in the sand. I still prefer to rather jump with them on the jumping castle, doing handstands and trying my luck on H’s skateboard (which I should rather NOT be doing, I just might brake something).

With all the hustle and bustle of today’s life, escaping to being carefree is sometimes necessary, just to remind us how fun life can actually be, cause if you don’t do it…that is when you get old, that is when you forget how to live life, that is when you forget to enjoy the small things in life

The heart of a January…. ;)

Seeing that my blog is not famous (yet), and therefore I am not flooded with comments (yet), I truly appreciate that few that I do get. And I would like to share a conversation after a recent post I did, just because the comments was touchy and so heartfelt, and left me all warm and fuzzy…

• “I salute you for forgiving and moving on instead of harbouring hatred and ill feelings! Teaching your kids differently to what would be expected of someone who has gone through what your family has gone through”

* “Thank you for understanding the message behind my post. I saw so much hatred on FB with Mandela Day, and it was truly sad that as a nation we claim democracy and equality, but yet we cannot find it in our hearts to forgive the sins of our forefathers”

• “So true! Mandela day is a nice way of remembering him and those that fought for democracy etc. But we should not forget those who lost their lives.”

* “Instead of just celebrating Mandela, we should celebrate our country and the people living in it, those trying to make the difference.”

• “Yes, that is true! Cause you see, everyone went through the struggle. Not just Mandela and his friends.”

* “In some way or the other, it is a struggle for every person. And the struggles I have as a person does not make me a better or worse person that the guy next to me, it is suppose to ignite compassion to rather reach out a helping hand to the one next to you”

I’m not a politician, not even closely, and I do not talk politics and neither do I promote it, and my post was not directed in any political kind off way. For me it is about finding solutions in creating a better future, cause as a parent, I owe that to my children.

I had a few eye-opening moments these last couple of days, moments where I had to stand back and ask myself if this is the best possible example that I can set for my children, or can I improve on it, make it better in so many more ways? And it is hard to be completely satisfied with the person you are, we will always be faced with opportunities on which we can improve, learn from and grow from. We just need to take that first step, grab hold of those opportunities and make that change! Cause with change comes strength. And the stronger we grow as person, the easier it becomes to create that better future.

Mandela Day;

So, on the 18th of July 2012, we celebrated Mandela Day. Things such as freedom, democracy and equality were celebrated, but with all of the celebrations a lot of sad and painful events were also remembered.

The struggle throughout the history of South Africa was not an easy road; too many people were hurt in more than one way. The injustice done to the people were wrong. Many people lost their lives in a struggle that, to this day, have neither been won nor lost…

But then we have to ask ourselves “Why is this war still raging?”

The only real memory that I have of the Apartheids Era would be the 1994 election. I remember sitting in the living room, watching the tv, and the only images showing on the tv was that of the election, hundreds of people standing in queues, waiting to cast their votes, hoping to make a difference. More than that I honestly do not remember, I mean really, I was a child, enjoying life.

But the ripples caused by the Apartheids Era eventually reached our family, and my grandparents became part of the statistics of the notorious “Farm murders”.

I remember my dad sitting on the edge of their bed, his head cupped in his hands, crying. That was the first time I ever saw my dad cry.

I remember how I was overwhelmed by sadness and sorrow when my parents told me that my grandparents passed away.

I remember the pink dress I wore to their funeral; the dress had lace and little bows.

I remember thousands of tears streaming down the cheeks of familiar faces.

I remember my dad and uncles taking the shovels, and how shovel after shovel the dirt started to cover the caskets of the two people that I loved so dearly.

But what I remember most of all is how much I miss them…

…how I miss granny’s slap chips…

…how I would stand on my grandfather feet while he danced with me in the living room to the tune of “Dans met die rooi rok”…

…the bag filled with Quality Street tucked away in grandpa’s closet…

…the early morning smell of freshly brewed rooibos tea filling the house

My mind as child could not really grasp the reality behind all of it, and for me, missing them was far more important than hating those who cause the pain…. Years later I still prefer to focus on how much I miss them, keeping their memories alive and not allowing it to fade with time.

But yet, it saddens me to see that there are still so many people “trapped” in the happenings of our past, who refuse to let go, they grip onto it so tightly that it totally consumes them.

I refuse to raise my children in a world where hatred and anger clouds our minds and judgement, a world where decisions and accusations are based on the wrongdoings of the generations before us.

I want to teach my children the importance of respect for one another, the importance of equality. Teach them that they should treat others as they wish to be treated. I want to teach them that there is a place in the sun for each and every one of us. I refuse to tangle them into believing that they should hate for something that happened two, three of four generations ago. We cannot clutch onto the past when trying to create a better future.

We need to learn to let go, not for the sake of the past generations, but more important, for the sake of the future generations

Celebrations….

We had a couple of celebrations the last month or so, giving us the opportunity to commemorate special moments and create precious memories.

We celebrated Mother’s Day and Father’s Day, giving praise and thanks to people whom without we would not have been possible, people that created us, raised us, moulded us, people that provided us with the necessary stepping stones in life, they kept us safe, wiped our tears and shared our joys, but they also had to let go and give us the opportunities to explore and grow on our own. But most of all, they love us!

It was also a great honour for me the day I became a mother…I am a mother, and a mother to the most precious littlest Biekies.

We also celebrated when Grandma and Grandpa came to visit for a few days. Not only did they bring presents and sea shells (yes our package was delivered “by hand”…it was delivered by the hand of grandma and grandpa), but they also brought “conversations till late”, “anybody for another cup of coffee?”, potjiekos, laughter, sharing and rekindling of special bonds between Biekies and those who love them. They further brought the opportunity of creating new memories, memories that we will be able to share the next time we meet.

And hopefully the next time will be next to the sandy shores of the sea, the sea with it’s crashing waves and noisy squawking seagulls gliding over-head, the sea we love so much and miss so dearly…

But, and this is a great, big BUT….

We celebrated littlest Miss Diva, we celebrated her life, her love… we celebrated her! Yes, the time came to celebrate her birthday, another year passed, which was filled with so many great and special moments, joys and laughter, yes, there were tears as well (but we like to think that those tears made us stronger in what we do and achieve…)

I cannot believe that she turned two! It is amazing to look back over the past two years, to see how far we have come from the day she was born until now, all the unforgettable moments that was created in that time frame, the goals that were reached, as well as passed with flying colours.

I miss her being a baby, I miss her milky-baby breath, I miss those tiny little fingers and those tiny little toes, but all of that has been replaced with a littlest singing along with the music playing on the radio, very inquisitive fingers and buzy little toes, and what mamma out there can not love little things like that, those remarkable changes we get to witness each and every day.

And celebrating all of this, we baked and laughed and sang and clapped and smiled…(and cried)…we shared this with friends and family, we indulged in braaivleis, mieliepap, and more laughter, we toasted to her, we toasted to that which has passed and that to come…. we created awesome memories… we celebrated!

Life as we know it

Life is hectic, keeping to our daily schedule and routines are not always easy.  Most mornings end up in me rushing the kids to get dressed and ready cause “we are late” (which we are 4 out of 5 mornings in a week). 

Friday evenings have been consumed by rugby practice and Saturday mornings are spend next to the rugby field, eating hotdogs and encouraging the Biekie.  Having my heart ache with pride has never felt so good!

The times following between Saturday and Friday H spend improving on his newly taught techniques, throwing and catching the ball, running with the ball, firmly gripped under the one arm and “pushing” the opponents away with the other, and using mommy’s legs as a batter ram for scrums and tackles.  Seeing his eyes lit up, the smile on his face and the endless enthusiasm in which all of this is done is priceless.  And yes, of course, my littlest remains one bad-ass kicker….

On the other end of the spectrum…with each day passing we can see more and more transformation in the littlest of Biekies, less baby and more little lady (or should I say Diva), less dependant and more independence, more eager to do things on her own.  Conversations are slowly turning from gibberish to meaningful words and short sentences.  And let me tell you, sister can dance to the beat!

So with all of this happening, the other Sunday was kind of a big day in our household, as we are in the process of slowly transforming sister’s room to suit her “big-girl” needs.  Out with the cot and in with the “big girl” bed, out with the Chest of Drawers and in with the dressing table.  But more to follow soon…

And between all of this we are also busy arranging a birthday party for little Miss Diva, celebrating her achievements, celebrating her life, and celebrating her.  And what better way to do this than with a vintage style tea party.  Digging for the miniature porcelain tea set we inherited from Great-Grandma, digging out the China we got from Grandma, discovering long forgotten crocket tablecloths in the back of the linen closet, planning the menu, the thank-you gifts, the guest list, a day filled with fun and laughter, a day spend with people loving and caring for my littlest, a day spent in the best possible way I know…with friends and family.

I also heard a fluttering whisper that we might be expecting a “Per Hand” parcel…. a parcel filled with all sorts of goodies, hand-knitted goodies, farmer’s market hand-made goodies, dearly missed seashells and sea sand, and to top it all, lots of hugs and kisses, all carefully packet and wrapped by a Grandma and Grandpa, who misses the littlest Biekies greatly.  Can’t wait to see the expression on their little faces as we unwrap that parcel and discover those hidden treasures underneath the lid…

Had a chat with a dear friend who is awaiting the arrival of her second littlest, and we spoke about our trials and tribulations as mommies (and as parents).  We spoke about the fears we face as second-time pregnant moms, the doubts we have in our abilities.  But where I sit today and look back at it all, it was not really that bad.  I am somewhat surviving the age-gap, the boy-vs-girl, the lack of sleep and the nappies.  We have an ever-changing-ever-adapting routine; cause what worked today might not always work as well tomorrow. 

H raised much easier than Z is doing, he was my easy-child where as she is my little tantrum diva.  And whoever said you get smarter with the second child did not have a second child, cause I sometimes feel more clueless now than I did with H.

But yet, as difficult and daunting as things can be at times, so much more rewarding are they.  Being able to share their accomplishments, their milestones, and the crazy happy moments.  Just loving these precious little moments.

Discovered not far from our house, is a venue called the “Biekie Bos”, and I think the Biekies should go for a visit…

Strive to perfection

The clock reads "23 April, 10;13 am", and if I remember correctly, my dad was buzy walking me down the aisle, leaving the old behind and walking towards a new future...we were all so nervous, I remember that I just kept telling my dad "Do not step on my dress, please..."

I walked passed smiling familiar faces, but till this day I can not remember whose faces those were...all I remember was seeing him standing in front of the church, smiling, waiting for me...
We were married young, not knowing what the future holds, not really caring about it either, all we cared about was that being in love with each other was spectacularly wonderful!

"For better or for worse" - Yes, some days have been "for better" and others have been "for worse", but overall, most of them have been "For the best"!  We can not expect live to go smooth sailing all the time, how are we suppose to learn those valuable life lessons if nothing ever goes wrong?
We are learning together, we are growing together, and with each day passing we are going stronger and stronger.

It might sound cheesy, but he truly completes me, I am beautiful cause he makes me beautiful.  He gave me the most precious gift in life, he made me a mommy and enriching my life with two precious littlest Biekies!

But I have to thank my Heaven Father most of all, cause He is the one who send Guilm my way, He planned for us to be together and share the memories of each day.  He's the glue that keeps us sticking!

So, happy Weeding Anniversary my Bollie! Thank you for (sometimes, just sometimes), being the better part of me, I truly love you "till death do us part"

Crouch, touch, pause…engage!

Yes, we finally entered a new phase in our lives, as well as in parenthood, the phase know as extramural activities. When H started with Gr.0, we decided to introduce him to as much as possible, but not to force him and allow him to decide which activities he wanted to partake in. Therefore, when the rugby season started, we took him to rugby practise, which is not as hard-core as training for the Super 14 season, but enough to teach him the basic skills and further develop his muscle tone etc, etc.

As parents, we were pretty excited by all of this, but on the other hand, H did not take to this so gladly as we hoped for….for e.g. : Everyone on the field would be running and diving for the ball, going into the scrum with vigour, trying to get to that damm ball, everybody except H, who would be standing happily at the back, observing all the commotion and not bother at the least to try and get that ball….

Ok, yes, I understand the fact that he is only 5 (turning 6) and that this is the first time that he truly got involved in rugby, but still, as a parent you stop to wonder if maybe, just maybe, you might have done something wrong to contribute to the fact that he is not really interested in all of this.

We actually went as far as buying him a brand new red rugby ball to awaken “the hunger and the passion for the game”. We play outside on the lawn, pass the ball and scrum like no other man has done before. And after many trials and tribulations, tears shed on the rugby field, pep-talks from the coaches, and mommy and daddy boosting that little ego…we finally realised, H is not a “pack-man”, he does not like to be in the middle of that scrum, being squashed and squeezed…nope…my littlest is a kicker!!!!!

And I have to admit; he’s got a mean-ass kicking-foot. So yes, let the other boys scrum and tackle away, let them get all muddy, bloody and snotty….my boy will be the one behind the lines, waiting, making sure that when he gets the ball, to kick it as hard as possible and send it flying through the poles, to ensure victory, not only for him in a personal way, but for his team as well.

So kick away my littlest, kick away!

Proud – prouder – atomic-sized-explosion-proud….

We all have our proud moments, those memories, when being thought of, still makes your heart go all warm, fussy and mushy.  If I had to look back and just name a few, it most probably would be the following :

• When I got my drivers licence first time;
• My engagement;
• (Obviously) my wedding day;
• Confirmation of my pregnancies;
• Hanco’s birth, that first little cry, a cry that confirmed that I was blessed with the title “Mother”;
• Same with Zhané’s birth, hearing her cry for the first time, being reminded that my blessings are countless
• Watching my kids reach all their milestones;

Those are just to name a few, but today was another one that I can add to my list.  Hanco took part in his very first athletics event; he ran the 60m as well as the 80m. 

But today was kind off bitter sweet for me as a mother, on the one hand, I was extremely proud of him, so proud that my chest literally pained from it, but on the other hand, I could not be there to support him, to stand next to the field and shout and cheer for him, to scoop him in my arms as he ran over the finish line, hug and kiss him, congratulate him and tell him just how very proud I am of him. 

This is just one of the few sad realisations of being a working-mom, cause you miss out on so many things.  Other people get to share precious moments with your kids, moments that you as mother was suppose to share with them.  And all of this just because I made the decision to be a working mom, to enable me to provide for them to the best of my financial ability, to provide them with good and reliable health care, good education, to pave their ways to a good, stable future.

But there are days where I long for the freedom of being a stay-at-home mom, the flexibility thereof, and the opportunity one gets to share in those cherished moments.

 

At least I got a photo or two of Hanco participating in today’s athletics, which sort-off somehow made me feel like I was almost there….

 

So, what are a few of your proudest moments? 

Taking the Challenge…

These last couple of days was a bit challenging to me, as wife as well as mother….

I have been on an emotional roller coaster of note, loosing control and dropping the balls on every twist, turn and bend of the roller coaster.  The more I try mending things, the more holes I find.

We have noticed a slight change in Hanco’s behaviour, as if he is a little bit more spiteful and on purpose, we have had some tears and snots as he refused to go to school, as the new teacher is a bit more strict with the kids as what H is used to, and I think emotionally he is struggling a bit with all of this, and the current situation at home is also not helping to improve things.  Zhané has turned into a little “attention-seeking-troll”, requiring more and more, and the more she gets, the more she wants, and beware of depriving her of said attention…man, things tend to turn ugly!  Unfortunately, Hanco pulls on the shortest end of this rope, cause it is easier to allow him to watch an animated movie while I tend to tantrum-troll than try and find an equal balance between the two.

But then, strangely, I get a e-mail from my sister, who was having a bit of a downer herself, and as I typed e-mail after a-mail, loading each with a few sentences filled with elderly-sister-advice, I think somehow, my own advice made me feel better in a small kind off way.

Maybe I should realise that things do not always go as we plan them, yes sometimes we are forced to take the road less travelled, but we have to remember…it’s not over till the fat lady sings, and lucky for me, this fat lady can not sing to save her life.

Sometimes we must just fight a little harder, try one more time, cause there are things in life that’s worth fighting for

First of many…

I somewhat, vaguely remember my first day of school, my new brown dress and the beige shirt underneath it, the grandness of my (first) new pair of school shoes, the little brown box suitcase my grandfather bought me. 

The excitement grew as mom and I entered the school grounds.  The big, brick buildings, the long hallways, everything was new to me, and I just could wait to start exploring every inch of it.  I could not get rid of my mom fast enough, just so that I could go sit at my desk, admiring the classroom, making sure my shoes stayed clean.  And I am pretty sure, if I close my eyes and think back hard enough I would be able to feel the wood surface of my desk underneath my fingertips, I would be able to smell my brand new box of Crayola crayons, hear the laughter of the children as the bell rang for break-time.  The more and more I sit here thinking about the memories I collected from my school days; the more and more I miss it.  We played marbles, hob-scotch, jumping rope and even a silly, little game where you used old (but clean) pantyhose from mom’s closet, but one of my favourite memories of way back then was the library and the books, the fact that I was taught the ability to read through countless pages, as much as I wanted and for as long as I wanted.  I enjoyed reading, it opened worlds for me that, I would never have been able to reach.

To be carefree, not worry about anything, to enjoy every moment as if there was no tomorrow, to learn, to explore…man those were the days!

Well that day finally arrived for Hanco…. his first day of school.  And I wanted everything to be just perfect for him.  I packed, unpacked and repacked his school bag maybe 3 times, made sure everything is clearly marked with “Hanco Botha” (I think his school bag is marked in 3 different places), his school uniform was ready, school shoes cleaned, lunch box packed and juice bottle filled.

As we drove to school, he sat quietly next to me in the car, observing our route as he does most of the time, but once we neared the school he was a sudden burst of energy and excitement.  He could not wait to get out of the car and enter the school grounds.  As we waited for Guilm to arrive, he was a non-stop-babbling-mess!

The moment finally arrived, he was allowed to walk through those big gates and enter this great adventure, and he started the new chapter in his life. 

They took us to his class, we met his teacher, but…. just as I did some 24 odd years ago, he also could not wait that we leave just so that he could go and play.  He could care less about the day of tomorrow or the philosophy of life, he only cared in doing what he knows best…. being a child.

And on your first day of school you showed us courage and bravery, you faced it with a smile on your face, you were proud, but even more, we as parents, standing behind you were bursting, bursting because you make us proud!

So cheers my littlest Biekie, cheers to great adventures and new chapters. 

May this truly be the best years of your life?  

 

Another story, a new chapter

Our New Year started with a few fireworks seen in a distance, the “+ Project” and a missing dog (who strangely suddenly appeared out of nowhere, as if she was not missing at all….and who by the way, weirdly went missing exactly one year ago as well….)

We decided against any New Year’s Resolutions for 2012 (I mean, really, who keeps to them anyway?), instead we will “create” projects as we go along, our first two for 2012 being : “The + Project” and the “Breaking bad habits Project”

The + Project :

We will try to see and do at least one positive (+) thing every day, the more the better, but at least one will do.

Breaking bad habits Project :

Which ever bad habit it may be, we will attempt in breaking it.  Both Guilm and I decided on the 3^rd that we have indulged long enough in our bad habit, and decided to put a stop to it, but in doing so, Mark decided that if we can do it, so can he, so all and all, the three of us have been bad habit-less for a total of 9 days now, and counting.  Apparently it takes 21 days to consider a bad habit broken, we are almost halfway…we can do this!

 *****

I can’t get myself to finish marking Hanco’s school requirements…. it is just to damm difficult and heartbreaking!  But I have to pull myself together, as school starts soon.  We will be there, right beside him, holding his hand, as he walks through the gates for the first time.  We will be there to comfort when all gets a bit to overwhelming; we will be there to witness the excitement. 

But then the time will come where I will have to let go of his hand, give him a hug, a kiss and an “I love you lots”.  

I will have to turn around, walk away and allow him to explore this wonderful new phase in his life, and I will do it with a smile on my face (let me rather re-phrase : A smile IN my heart and tears ON my face).  Yes it is sad to see them grow up so fast, but on the other side, it is absolutely amazing to see them grow, to reach the milestones, to learn, explore, play, to be a child,  but also grow into this perfect littlest human being.

I will love him (them) till end of time and then even some more, for they are my littlest, my Biekies, my everything, my reason for being, my reason for existing.

2012

As 2012 begins to slowly unveil herself, and Merry Jingles becomes a distant thought, I wish upon you joys, laughter, love, hope, peace, happiness, faith & everlasting friendship! Thank you for being part of my remembrance of 2011 and may we share many more to come!

 

The next Chapter : Our Christmas Story unfolds

Ok, so 5 (and yes, please note 5) days before Christmas, I suddenly decided that this year would be the perfect year for the kids to create hand-made Christmas Cards for Grandparents, Aunts & Uncles, so let’s see how this one goes….more to follow….  We shall re-attempt this tradition next year….no further comments

With us being so busy I desperately tried to create some magic surrounding this wonderful time of year.  There was truly moments where it felt as if Christmas lost it’s magic, as if the commercialism of Christmas is killing it’s spirit, as if the Christmas spark is slowly fading away.  But we fought back; we fought for the magic of Christmas time, the beauty, the wonder, and the splendour thereof…

So, we have :   

  

• Blinking Christmas Lights      √       

• Christmas Stockings filled with all sorts of goodies      √   

• All the Christmas presents wrapped      √    

(all but mom’s, which by the way, was bought and wrapped in time for Christmas Day). 

• Christmas presents stocked underneath the Christmas Tree      √  

• Spending quality time as a family on Christmas Eve      √   

• Hanco pretending to be Father Christmas, playing with Sparklers and making sure that hungry reindeers had something to eat when they landed at our house      √

I read the story of Christmas out of 2 different storybooks, just to make sure that the littlest understood what it is all about.  We opened gifts from the Christmas Stockings, whilst we waited for the arrival of Santa and his reindeers…but eyes grew heavy and littlest tired, so off to bed they went….

Christmas Day was met with great anticipation, we had to inspect the bowl of reindeer food, and found it to be empty….smiles grew wider, excitement filled the air.  But the greatest joy I could have received on any Christmas morning was that of seeing the beaming from the faces of my Biekies when they saw what waited for them underneath the Christmas Tree, no matter how big or how small, they were grateful for what they have received, and that is one of the greater lessons in life to be learned….being grateful for what you have and being grateful for what you have received.

This was truly a wonderful Christmas, spending time with family, reconnecting with loved ones on various different levels.  But most of all, watching my littlest Biekies through all of this made me realise how blessed we as a family truly are. 

Yes, life might not be always moonshine and roses, and the path may at times be a rocky one, but we, as a family, can do this.  We can wave 2011 goodbye, knowing that what he had to offer, was actually not all that bad, we can thank him for the good times, the smiles and the loves, we can look back and learn for the tougher moments, we can allow those moments to make us stronger.

And what does 2012 have in store for us….I don’t know, I can only but wonder what he will deliver, and we will await same with grate anticipation