Lessons from little warriors

A terrible thing happened. Our house burnt down. The house that my children have grown up in.  So did the garden with its trees and the jungle gym and sand pit – there are some bricks left to show its outline – and the trampoline, the car port, the washing line, the sheds, the horse’s paddocks and stables. And Beauty’s house. The grandparent’s houses burnt down too, with the swimming pool. And the cattle fields and the garage where we kept the tractor and lawn mowers. It all burnt down. It took about 40 minutes.

The wind blew so hard that we could not hear ourselves speak. Everyone was running  – helter skelter - trying to save what there was to save. Little Adam ran up and down the avenue of Yellowwood trees, back and forth, confused and frightened. “Go to the barn!” shouted Charles. “No, get in the car!” I shouted. 

At last I got them into the car. All three of them, plus Beauty and Danny the terrier. The children cried. I drove through the smoke, dodging phantom firemen and livestock, leaving our life behind to burn and Charles to save it. We also left two cats and Julie the dog. We could not get them. We didn’t know where they were. It was too late. 

That was Saturday. On Monday, in donated school uniforms, the children packed their donated red lunchboxes into their donated backpacks and went to school. They fought over who would sit in front and spoke about how everyone would be nice to them because their house had burnt down. There are others too that have lost their homes, I reminded them.

 They kissed me good bye, “Love you Mom,” and jumped out of the car. I sat and watched them go. “My babies,” I screamed internally, “they’ve lost everything and there they go brave and stoic through the school gates.” And I wept my first big heaving, gasping, shaking, sorry for myself cry, praying no one would notice or worse still, come and ask me: “How are you guys doing? Is there anything we can do for you?” 

 

“Yes,” I would have loved to reply to the well-wishers, “put my children’s home back together. Find Anna’s drawings and Adam’s Lego airplane and put them back on the shelf in their bedrooms please. Take away the mounds of burnt rubble that’s lying on top of everything so that they can go home this afternoon and lie on their beds and watch dust fairies in the shafts of golden light from the old wooden windows that frame the green, green garden where they learnt to climb trees. Put it all back please, because I can’t bear my children’s pain and loss.” Instead I would thank them robotically.

 

I told myself: I have to hold the fort for them – even though it’s burnt down. I have to be okay even though I’m not okay.  And the enormity of the task made me heave and shudder and snot all over again because I knew I wouldn’t be able to fake it.

Monday passed in mild internal hysteria driven by blind adrenalin. There is a lot to do when everything is taken away. One o’ clock arrived. I donned my Brave Mommy demeanor and went to fetch them, preparing myself for a deluge of melt downs and post-traumatic stress.

“Hi Mom.”

“Hi! How was your day?”

“Fine thanks and yours?” chimed Anna and then: “Here.” She handed me a folded piece of paper.

“What is it?”

“A letter to Julie and the cats,” she said. “I just wanted to tell them I was sorry that I couldn’t save them and I will always love them.”

Her eyes glazed and she looked at me with her big bruised heart. A lump the size of Ayers Rock wedged into my throat.

Then she said, “What’s for lunch?”

“Oh I don’t know,” I squeaked, “What do you feel like?”

“Noodles.”

My lump dissolved and I realised that this courageous nine-year-old had just reminded me of the only thing that would get me through this nightmare: to focus on the present, the here and now. 

And I knew then that if she can do this, so can I.

screen thoughts

I know there are benefits to exposing children to the world of technology with the likes of iphones and ipads, but I am very weary to allow it to become a main feature in our home. And even though my city relatives look at me aghast when I admit to not having heard of the latest Apps, I find that living on a farm near a small town has automatically tempered the influence of technology in my children’s life and I plan to keep it that way for as long as possible. 
Every year over the Christmas season I watch in amazement as we are bombarded by city folk who stream in for holiday bringing with them the latest fashions, ipads and apps. And mostly it leaves me feeling slightly appalled at what technology has done to our society. Last festive season while eating out, I saw more than once, whole families - kids and parents - sitting around a table each engaged with their own screen, their faces bland, instead of enjoying their eating out experience with each other.For me it doesn’t take a lot of insight to observe the obvious detriment this can lead to in family relationships and society as a whole. Without the basic skills of sharing and communication what kind of people will these children grow up to be? For surely if a child’s world is more virtual than real, he will grow up not knowing what reality is and therefore lose a connection to earth that is vital for the survival of all. 

heavenly haven

Leaving home for a 3500 km road trip with three small children is no minor feat - especially when one is only seven months old. Bearing this in mind I began organising and writing The List ten days prior to departure - call me over-organised but I am prone to anxiety and like to minimise last minute panics. And, thanks to this foresight, by the time we were ready to leave I was relatively calm. I also realised that this was our 5th long road trip since the twins were born and  given that I only had to pack one camping cot and a single stroller, it was actually all very easy.

The challenge ended up being keeping baby in his baby chair! Luckily we live in Africa and one can get away with holding a baby on your lap in the back seat. It was either that or dealing with frayed nerves from his yelling - which we decided was far more dangerous for the driver than an unbuckled baby. Given the long, long roads we traveled, first to the Kruger Park bushveld in the North and then back down the coast to the Transkei, the girls, who were stashed right in the back of the VW, were very well behaved indeed. When the wheels did start to come off and tears seemed imminent I hurled packets of sweets, chips or lollipops at them. This, plus books and kiddie computers kept them going for a total of nine long days on the African road.

By the time we were on the second leg of our trip heading down to the Haven hotel in the Transkei, which was another three full days of driving, we were, to say the least, beginning to wear thin - like our tyres. As Anna put it perfectly: we were "becoming allergic to driving!"
We arrived at the Cweba/Dwesa Nature Reserve gate where the Haven is located, with only 5 minutes to closing time, and I don't want to entertain thoughts of what it would have meant if we had missed the gate - driving back another two hours on corrugated gravel roads to Mthahta!!
Pulling into the hotel parking lot really was like arriving at a haven as we were greeted by smiling faces that remembered us from previous visits, a comfortable clean room with white fluffy duvets and a delicious supper waiting for us in the dining room. At last we could chill out without packing or unpacking bags, cooler boxes and cars.

We first discovered the Haven hotel when the twins were 2 years old and have been back twice since, drawn to its laid back, comfortable ambiance in the unspoilt surroundings of a nature reserve. Its not fancy, its just a good old style hotel that provides three excellent meals a day, plenty of space and entertainment for kids, stretches of wild beach in walking distance, indigenous forests, waterfalls and some good waves to surf - if you are mad enough to brave the wild waters as my husband always is. As a parent this set up provides me with the ultimate holiday - just being able to not think about cooking and cleaning is enough of a holiday for me, thank you.

Having planned on three nights we stayed five and were still reluctant to leave as when you stay at the Haven its easy to become part of the family and forget about the stresses and obligations that lie waiting at home!












For more about The Haven check out: www.havenhotel.co.za

play time

You know how children have a knack of saying something that is so steeped in truth it stops you in your tracks and forces you to take a good hard look at yourself?  If you are in the habit of hanging around small people this can happen fairly frequently.
I was brushing my girls' teeth recently when Charlotte explained that she needed to get another little mermaid dolly to play with her existing one. "But she has the big mommy mermaid dolly to play with," I said. "No," said Charlotte, "her mom is too busy to play with her."
"Oh," said I thoughtfully, feeling that familiar niggle of guilt growing in my gut. "But, even though mommy's are busy taking care of their families, they still play sometimes, just not all the time," I said.
"Oh yes," pipes up Anna, "remember that time when you once ran and jumped onto the trampoline with us! Remember?"
" Yes, I think so, " I replied, quietly.
Well, did I have some thinking and guilt management to deal with after that conversation! Do I really play with my girls so infrequently that when I do it is a highlighted moment to go down in the book of memories?
"No that's nonsense," I try placate myself, "before the baby was born, we swam together in the sea all the time!"
But the truth is, after taking a good look at myself and my mothering, I know that since my pregnancy and the birth of Adam I haven't exactly been a ball of fun for the twins. And I'm in the habit of taking whatever dregs of time I can get, for myself. Is this selfish? What about women who have six kids, which was quite common 50 years ago - and they didn't even have washing machines back then.

Truthfully I can lean a bit too much to the serious side of life and am not really a very playful person. Come to think of it, I've never been the first to jump onto the dance floor to get the party going. And I think selflessly leaping about like a hyperactive child, when your children already have siblings to play with, is going beyond the call of duty and can only end in burn-out and prescribed bed rest.
But playful or not, I think the issue here is spending time with one's children and, like many mothers, I have very little of that: one's time seems to be directly proportional to the amount of offspring one has.
I read once that children spell love T_I_M_E. Just what those guilt ridden, over-worked, sleep deprived mothers out there want to hear! But, and here's a little appeasement to run with, I also learned at a workshop on sensory integration, given by a highly qualified clinical psychologist, that a child only needs 10 to 20 minutes of undiluted, focused attention from their parents to thrive and feel secure. This is good to know, but its also incredible how even that small amount of time, multiplied by three can be a tall order on some days.
So having taken the time to question my mothering ways, I have decided to cut myself some slack, be rid of the guilt and just do my best to give them as much of me as I can muster. Oh, and to jump on the trampoline with them here and there - even if it is only once a year!

sorry, the cows ate your surfboard

The fact is I'm not very good with small children and I just manage with my own. I can get very anxious and overwhelmed when too many kids are around me.
Looking back I see that I have always been prone to shying away from noisy bunches of children, even as a child I preferred to be on my own. As an adult I'm not much different and prefer one on one interactions. Secretly I find "girl's night" very scary. Events like kiddies birthday parties, play dates and mass social gatherings - that include all of our friend's off-spring - are also among my very least favorite pass times. And judging by my children's behavior at play dates, I fear my girls' may have inherited my awkward social tendencies.

Play dates seem to be the in thing these days, but I think that unless you need to farm your child out because you have a work deadline or, more importantly, are in desperate need of "me" time, there's no point - given that they have spent four hours of the morning with their friends in the well organised environment of play school.

Having said this I do still organise play dates for my girls because they ask for them and one does need to reciprocate to others. But my fear of lots of children, coupled with the twin factor, puts a whole new spin on these dates and careful thought needs to be given to the execution of them.
At first, thinking there was no way I could cope with four children at once, I used to invite one friend for the two of them to share. But this quickly proved to be a highly ineffective way to meet their social needs. The entire afternoon would be fraught with one and then the other wailing in despair that the friend "doesn't want to play with me!" The poor friend would be end up at her wits end and not sure if she wanted to be friends with either of them. To say the least it is not an afternoon off for me where I can catch up on my novel, while casting the occasional eye at three happily playing little girls. No, its more like a couple of hours of an intense child psychology practical exam!
So then I came up with one stays at home with a friend while the other goes away to a friend. This does work the best but not without its challenges. Having always had each other to fall back on they appeared slightly socially inept - but this probably goes for most five year olds.
Recently, however, I decided to brave a double date after an earlier attempt had gone well. This time I did the usual lecture and threats that should there be any fighting over friends they would not be having play dates again until they were 18! Maybe the pressure was a little too much for them, its hard to say, but by the time we arrived home from school each twin had given it her best shot at a tantrum and I was having a hard time at faking "sweet mommy" in front of their poor friends. To say the least I was pretty wound up that afternoon and did a good job of keeping my cool, I believe.
When finally it seemed we were at breaking point and I'd run out of successful distractions, I decided the time to cool off in the farm dam had come and donning hats and shoes four ways I sent them off down the hill while baby and I followed in the 4x4.
"Great," I thought, "a bit of physical fun to keep them preoccupied." The plan was to grab the old foam surfboard we'd left there and for them to paddle around the dam on it. But the trouble was that when we got there, the cows had eaten the surfboard! Cows do stupid things like that.
"Great," I thought again, "thanks cows!" as my two, sorely disappointed, began to rev up for a round of punishment aimed in my direction. My plan had been thwarted. So I took a deep breath and with Adam on my hip and my best "sweet mommy" demeanor, I pushed the twins into the middle of the dam in a leaking kayak with a pole as a paddle, and told them to make their way back to shore. Which they did. And in the process forgot about their friends and their inter-twin competition and instead displayed a sisterly teamwork unique only to those who have shared a womb.

life with lice

I was always under the impression that only people with lax cleanliness habits attracted lice, but I was wrong. I have been fighting a colony of lice in both my girl's hair since December 2012 and we do follow a good daily cleanliness routine. In fact the louse prefers clean hair to dirty hair as its eggs won't stick to grease.

To say the least, the fight has been a long and tedious journey.

Here's what I've learnt so far: 

•  Dealing with your child’s lice can become an emotional journey as you face the inevitable disappointment that your time and hard work will be in vain as no sooner have you allowed yourself to feel victory, you will spy one tiny egg glinting in the sun.
•  In the early stages of your experience you may practice denial, but further along in your journey you will realise that this only has devastating effects and facing the music is the best option.
• Your eyes become trained to pick up the slightest sign of life on your child’s head and you are likely to become obsessive with scratching, picking and squishing the parasites whenever given the chance.
• You will discover characteristics in your child’s personality that you never knew existed. One of mine is unbelievably patient as I scratch around her scalp whereas the other has a 30 second threshold which leads me to almost physically pinning her down and hurling all sorts of threats if she does not cooperate such as “If you don’t let me do this I will have to shave your hair all off!”
• You will lie in bed puzzling over how to fit your lice eradication programme into the next day’s schedule of work, grocery shopping and school runs, and in my case breast feeding.
•  You will opt out of fun activities such as beach visits in order to make time for lice eradication because if you let one day too many go by the fat ones will lay their eggs and you are doomed for another 4 week cycle.
• You will no longer have the opinion that only dirty people get lice and will be humbled by the power this tiny creature has on your life.
• You will seriously think about creating a “parents of lice infected children” support group.
• You will give yourself a year’s deadline that if you still have not reached the end of this nightmare you will shave your children’s hair off.
• And finally you will hope to never know the name of the person who infected your child to start with.

 And this is what I have learned about lice:                               

•  Once your child gets lice there is little chance of getting rid of it completely in under 6 months. If you think you are clear you are more than likely experiencing a dormant phase in the cycle where the eggs are getting ready to hatch.
• The best way to find lice is to comb through with some sort of oil – but this will only get rid of the larger ones while the tiny ones and the eggs remain - creating an illusion that you are clear.  The females are the largest.
• Live eggs are close to the skull and dark in colour. Hatched eggs are further along the hair shaft and are light in colour (they don’t pop when you squeeze them.) Time spent popping eggs is well worth it.
• Using chemicals is probably the best solution. The best is to comb out with oil every second morning and wash with a chemical based lice shampoo that evening
• In order to conquer this ordeal you need vigilance, patience and a will to win at all costs.

To learn and understand more about the life cycle of lice go to: www.skabi-rid.com

<a href="http://pingates.com/">Pingates</a>

oh, but to long...

Its funny how out of the blue we have those existentialist moments where we see ourselves from another perspective. I had one the other day when I was driving home from dropping the girls at school via the co-op to pick up horse food. The back of my 4x4 was full of lucern and I was rushing to get back to feed the baby. "Wow," I thought, "Here I am: mother of three, owner of horses and driver of a 4x4." How did I get here? Just the other day, with no hospital plan or grocery list to think of, all I needed to worry about was landing the next movie job so I could afford to fly to whichever destination intrigued me.
Life has happened to me. And its been so busy that I haven't really noticed. But its a different busy when you're raising kids. It's the non-stop emotional output that sucks away the minutes, hours and days. Before kids I remember always longing for stuff to happen: longing for the next trip, the next day of great waves, the guy to call, life to happen. But now I no longer long for life, because it keeps coming at me and I barely have a moment to get my head around it and Anna loses a tooth!
My challenges as a parent keep shifting and I have a sneaky feeling they will continue, so I may as well just role with the blows. I thought double nappies, feeds and crying was stressful - boy, was I mistaken. Its clear the challenge of twins is not getting easier but instead a lot more complex! Give me double poos any day over double five year old psychology!
Sibling rivalry and competition is the name of the game now. And a lot of the time I am simply at a loss on how to deal with it. With two kids of the same sex and the same age it's a continuation of win on this side and lose on the other. When one is elated over a lost tooth, the other is thrashing about on the lawn in sheer unadulterated jealousy and disappointment that her teeth are still firmly fixed into her gums. When one is afraid of the dark and needs a night light, the other basks in her bravery by insisting it must be pitch dark in their shared bedroom - that is not a sliver of light may come in from under the door! When one has outgrown her boots and the other now has two pairs to choose from, I may not purchase a new pair for the bootless child as it is "unfair!"
I think the term is "a rock and a hard place," and that's where I am at the moment. Although I'm sure as time passes I'm developing skills to deal with this challenge, I am seriously considering seeking professional help to guide me through this one, so that we can all come through with our egos, self confidence and sanity relatively intact.
And these are the things that now keep me from longing for life. Who has time to long when every minute of the day is spoken for by the physical and emotional needs of small people. Although I do admit to occasionally longing for a tropical island kid-less getaway. And an uninterrupted conversation with my husband.

sling it

The most nurturing place for your baby to be is without a doubt, as close to mom as possible. But carrying a baby around can often be impractical and tiring. So investing in a good baby sling is a priority for both mom and baby. 

Having two other small children, I find the mornings and early evenings the most challenging, as this is when all three are the most demanding of my attention and when I need both hands to be free. So it’s at these times that baby gets put in his sling, nice and snug and close to me while I bath, dress and feed the others. 

I find hauling a pram out of the car each time I need to go to the shops, time consuming and unnecessary when I can just pop my baby safely into his sling. It also serves as a way to block out the over stimulating noises and sights that could upset him.  And of course the best spin off of all to pouching ones baby is the ease at which they fall asleep. In fact it’s the way I get my baby to sleep all the time! 

But there are so many different options available, which does one choose? Having tried out different pouches and slings with my twins I was still unsure what the best option was when baby no. 3 arrived, until I tried Rhubarb and Custard’s baby sling. 

This sling is great as it’s easy to use with no straps and buckles to figure out, it has a great look with attractive prints and it folds up to fit into any handbag or baby bag. The Rhubarb and Custard sling also changes into four different carrying positions to adapt to your baby’s age appropriate needs. 

3's not a crowd

Wow, I can't believe how easy this has been so far - the baby thing. Adam is a model baby! He sleeps and eats, a lot, and he smiles, a lot. And he has a very polite way of communicating his needs. If I miss his first sleep request which is: "eh, eh," with half closed eyes he may then go "eh, eh, eh" slightly louder and punch the air a few times. If he's hungry he purses his lips and is slightly more vocal about letting me know but never screams. It's more of a: "I'm hungry now," and if I miss that it becomes: "Hello, I'm hungry now," and if I'm still slow on the uptake it becomes a slightly louder: "Excuse me, I'm not fooling around here I'm seriously hungry!" He then finishes his feed in a very reasonable 15 minutes and is either ready to smile again or go to asleep.
Life is clearly no biggy for this little guy. He seems completely at ease with being on this planet and not at all in shock by his physical existence.
I can honestly say we have had a total of three "colicky" evenings where he's cried intensely for about 10 minutes and then been so tired out by the experience that he slept through on all three occasions! He's simply not a screamer and I cannot believe what a difference that makes to being his mother. There is nothing like a consistent screaming baby to create immense anxiety, fatigue and tension in the home.  I read somewhere that the average baby cries 8 -10 times a day. Double that with twins and triple that if you have excessive screamers. I had excessive screamers the first time around and clearly the gods decided to cut me some slack this time!

The twins are fantastic big sisters and are also clearly under his charming spell - although they haven't let me off the hook that easily and have dished out various forms of emotional punishment such as the inevitable: "You love the baby more than me."
Although the baby is a breeze, having three children is very busy so I have had to recruit the girl's help around the house more than before. At first they seemed very eager to be of service but I fear I may have abused their enthusiasm, as last night Anna decided to put her foot down after she was asked to let out the bath water and hang up the face cloths: "Its not fair," she said, "Everyone is having fun except me! Dad climbs trees all day and has fun, you play with the baby all day and Charley plays with her friends everyday. But me, I just work all the time and I'm tired now! I need a rest. I feel like Cinderella!" Well I just about doubled over at this! The poor little thing, if only she knew what was still coming. So I feigned pity, helped her with the bath and said she could take the rest of the day off. It seemed she needed it.

welcome to the world

It's a boy! He's 3 weeks old already but I just haven't been able to tear myself away from him and update my blog.
What a glorious experience so far. The birth was undeniably painful, but I highly, highly recommend natural birth and am so grateful that my obstetrician gave me the opportunity after already having had a c-section. Twelve hours of agony and then absolute bliss as we heard his first cry. Words cannot describe the emotions felt and shared between my husband and I and little Adam as he was placed on my chest.
He latched immediately and hasn't looked back. Ok, I have to say it and get this off my chest: one baby is a walk in the park!! No wonder everyone around me looked like they had a handle on it while I juggled and managed my twins in desperate exhaustion. I can manage this just like everyone else. I actually feel quite competent and so far have had no panic attacks. Yes, in all fairness it is my third, or second to be more accurate and having two at once to start with must have given me some experience. But what a pleasure being able to see to his needs and not have someone else screaming for their urgent needs to be seen to at the same time.
The girls have been amazing, bar a few "come wipe my bum!" while I am feeding. For some reason this is something they refuse to let go of even though I have measured that their hands can reach that far back and their motor skills are more than adequate to preform the wipe motion.
All in all I am a happy mother of three and so far am feeling hugely empowered by my added responsibilities.

the roller coaster

I have 4 weeks to go - at the most - until we meet this new little person that will forever be part of our family. It is crazy to think that we have consciously made another human being and yet it is the most natural process of life and how every single one of us came to be!

After a roller coaster of thoughts, processes and emotions I feel like I have finally settled into being pregnant (about time!) and accepted the inevitable: my life is about to be altered irrevocably by the presence of another child in our home.

It all started with an urge, a will and then the act of conceiving life. I was anxious that I couldn't do it again until proven wrong. When it happened there was a mix of excitement and "oh dear" did we really want to do this all over again because there is no turning back now.

At first the nausea and the demands of two other children kept me from developing much of a connection with the growing life within me. But all of a sudden, in the second trimester, I felt a surge of love for this being, knowing that it will grow into a child which I will love inexplicably and unconditionally.
And then came the next phase: dread. Why have I chosen this path again? There is so much I want to do now that the twins are over toddlerhood. I could finally write my book, surf and ride more regularly and hopefully travel some more. I'm getting wrinkles and more hair than I'd like to admit is actually grey under those blonde streaks....Aaargh help!
Time is marching on so quickly and I still need to raise three kids, before getting back to the business of living a spontaneous adventure-filled life. I mean don't get me wrong this domestic experience and creating a home and life on the farm is an adventure in itself and all part of the dream - but this can't be it! Freak out! Extreme hormonal outbursts that my husband ducked, dived and sidestepped like a true pro, and finally I reach the sea of calm.
I have found a small glimmer of enlightenment: I have chosen this because it is what I ultimately want. I accept it and bask in the creation of new life. I will bear this baby and graciously allow the inevitability of sleepless nights, senseless crying, a lack of me time and little to no sex - knowing full well that it will and does pass and soon life will take on a new form as the adventure of babyhood fades into the distant past.
I am now counting down the days with a huge bubble of excitement - because what could be more exciting than meeting the human being you have created with someone you love?

pure personality

Mid-way through the Christmas holidays I realised that I got my timing very wrong: to be in the last trimester of pregnancy during the hot, crowded, festive season and facing the daily challenge of entertaining two 5-year-olds was mildly exhausting - to say the least.

I know, I know, I must not complain as we do live in one of the most beautiful places on earth...I could have been trapped in a city apartment block with it snowing outside! I'm just not that good with crowds and traffic and sharing our "most beautiful place on earth" with the rest of South Africa - call me selfish. Anyhow its all over and life returns to normal. I can now, smugly, find parking at the beach for my morning walk after dropping the girls at school! And I vow to graciously remember this year- long privilege next festive season, when I am less hormonal - promise.

The great thing about the holidays and my enforced home time (I did not venture off the farm into the madness much) was spending more quality time with the twins. And as a result observing, with a bit more insight than usual, the developments in their personalities.
My father coined a phrase that I love to remember when it comes to inexplicable behavior: "pure personality". And that's just it, we are born with our personality whether we like it or not and no conditioning, discipline or conforming will change the essence of our personalities  We are forever doomed to deal with it's flaws and exalt in it's perfections. Seeing the way my children, born on the same day, under the same stars and raised in the same home, confront various challenges in such extraordinarily different ways confirms this to me each time.
One of the challenges they faced this holiday was learning to ride their bikes. One of them asked for her trainer wheels to be removed on day two and from then on, with the odd 20 minutes put in by Dad, went on to practice daily until she perfected the art of riding her bicycle, which brought her so much pleasure that she forgot all about using her excess energy on punishing me for attention: a valuable realisation on my part!
The other was very keen to try but as soon as she saw she couldn't immediately master it, she grew anxious and angry and gave up. This caused even more frustration as her sister was doing something she couldn't do - but she was be damned if she was going to fall around like a fool in front of anyone - rather ignore the whole project.
Many frustrated tears and tantrums were thrown, to which I responded with logic: "if you don't try, you won't learn," anger: "for goodness sake, either try or don',t but stop punishing all of us too!" and remedial teaching: "Once upon a time there was a little girl who had a twin sister..." None of the above worked until finally her stubbornness gave in and she agreed to let me help her. So, with preggi belly and all, I put in my time daily up and down the driveway and slowly her self-confidence gathered momentum until suddenly she realised "Oh, I can do this!" And she did.
I am so excited about this latest step in development as it gives them a huge leap in freedom and independence. It also confirmed, yet again that no two children are the same and as parents we have to continue to strive to meet their individual personality needs. I guess that throws the "parenting formula" out of the window and another reason why they don't dish out handbooks at birth!

birthdays for all?

The end of the year is upon us. Again. It seems to arrive quicker every year - they say that its got to do with getting older. Then I must really be getting on because this year flew by at a ridiculous speed!
And my twins are five. The day, the 12th of the 12th of the 12th, went so well I kept going over the events in my mind to see if I'd missed something.

The night before, the girls and I had a chat about the party and it was agreed that this year Charlotte would have the first birthday song as last year Anna did. Charlotte had requested a "ballet" cake and for six months Anna has been determined she would have a "buffalo" cake - which thanks to my mother-in-law's amazing cake-making abilities, they got. They also agreed to remember to say thank you for their gifts, which they did, and not to nag about opening them until the party was over, which they did. The whole day they were impeccably well behaved and gracious. It seems five just might be the "year of grace" for us after all!

After much deliberation about what to give them we decided on bicycles which have been a massive success so far. To me one's first bike is like a right of passage into the next phase of independence and exploration in one's childhood. And I can't wait for them to be off the trainer wheels and riding all over the farm like the free, dirty footed child I once was.

I feel like saying to myself, with a sigh, "So there have it. You've got them onto the road of childhood, now you can start again with the next one." Yes its an exhausting thought and I have to admit that lately I have been having mildly desperate and rebellious thoughts about motherhood and the imminent phase of babyhood which is looming, especially since so many of my friends are coming out of their baby phases and starting to get a semblance of independence back. And I have to miss the Red Hot Chillie Peppers concert next month! But I look at how well it can all turn out and know that at the end of the day there isn't much that can compare to the joy your children can bring - and they do get more fun to have around as time passes.
So I will try and practice a little grace myself as my belly continues to grow at an alarming rate, reducing my physical abilities daily. I guess it really is time now to kick back, surrender and allow the year to end gracefully.

STOP PRESS...
At the time I was writing this post I was also experiencing some strange cramping sensations in my belly which proceeded to get stronger...so I decided to phone my gynecologist. I was sent to the local labour ward where they confirmed I was in labour! A scary moment for us all, as I was raced to the Knysna Medi-Clinic so they could do all the necessaries to stop the contractions. Which thankfully they managed. At only 29 weeks the baby would have had to have been put in an incubator for at least 2 months. It turns out being over active coupled with a mild infection in the uterus is what set it off. I'm back home with strict instructions to rest and take it easy.
Happy holidays...

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cycles of life

Summer is here! Finally after what felt like the longest, wettest winter of all time we woke up on Saturday and the chill was gone. We threw on our summer dresses, donned our hats and headed to the beach. Bliss. Its simple: I am happy when the sun shines and the sea sparkles.

And its about time I felt a twinge of excitement for life, what with nausea and then my large belly, which doesn't fit into anything wintry anymore, bringing me down somewhat over the past few months. My poor husband has had to endure more than one unreasonable display of hormonal tears and emotion, but at least he can now pack me off to the beach where I can wallow like a happy whale in the ocean while the girls joyously amuse themselves for hours.
At the moment the farm still looks green and lush before the onslaught of the long hot days. And the feeling of abundance is in the air with new vegetables popping up, eight new calves, new baby chicks and me with my ballooning belly. It's a time of new beginnings, growth and change - all the things that put a skip back into my step.
And the twins keep growing. In exactly a month they will be five, a milestone I have been looking forward to since the terrible two's. According to various parenting books, five is supposed to be the "year of grace" for many parents. We await with anticipation to see if this is true. So far I am not seeing any graceful behaviour - they seem more bent on annihilating each other these days than anything else. I try to drum in the deep, connected twinship that they should share and just how lucky they are to have each other, but all I get are indignant responses. It seems this age is more about competing than bonding. Hopefully they do share a deep bond - unseen by others but still very much there.
As part of baby preparation I have tried to embark on "operation independence" with the twins. My reasoning goes that by the time No. 3 is born they will be five-years-old and capable of taking care of their own immediate needs, like dressing, bathing, eating and, we very much hope, wiping the under carriage! I thought if I run a mild form of drill, repeating the exercises daily, eventually muscle memory will kick in and they will be able to perform all necessary tasks without major adult  input required. But 6 months down the line I am wondering if my approach is ever going to work!
To be honest it's difficult to remain consistent with these drills as they take up so much energy and it's often easier to wordlessly perform the tasks for them while they continue in their fantasy world of never-ending chatter. Sometimes it feels like I am dealing with two experiments who have been given large doses of hallucinogenics and told to perform some basic human functions, like foaming up some soap and washing your neck. However, under the influence of child wonderment, these tasks are simply not possible as one tends to forget moment by moment what one is trying to do and mostly gets side tracked by the cool bubbles one can make with a bar of soap.
I have a sneaky suspicion that all my "drilling" with its monologue of orders has left them deaf and blind to my mere presence and has instead become a form of hypnotherapy that sends them into a world that only children can reach. Leaving me alone and repeating myself dumbly in the bland and boring world of maternal duty.
So I have decided when defeated, do nothing. And apart from the essential daily needs like a good teeth brush and a couple of soapy scrubs a week, the rest of the time they can figure it out for themselves. And maybe one day they will return to planet Earth long enough to actually perfect these essential bodily duties for themselves.
I think my latest efforts at controlling the outcome have yet again back fired and reminded me to allow growth to take place in the time that it takes. They will grow up and they will, hopefully, be able to wash their own orifices and do all the other necessities required of grown humans. In the mean time all I have to do is wait, and watch with wonderment, the ever unfolding miracle of life and growth which is all around me.

pregnant prayers

Although I always knew that one day I would have children and raise them in the country, the twins were somewhat unexpected and arrived to two ill-prepared parents. When I say ill-prepared I don't mean we didn't give them what they needed emotionally and physically, but we didn't realise how MUCH we would have to give them.

Looking back now I have to admit that although I adored my babies, the first year was not a blissful state of unfolding sentimental moments but more like the toughest year of my life. Overnight it was required that I adjust to two screaming premature babies, a partner who I had barely had time to get used to living with, the loss of a career and my parents-in-law, who bless their hearts were more than giving, but who I hardly knew and were suddenly in my daily life. In short I felt out of control and totally spoken for before I even had the time to catch my breath. 

But like they say Life never deals you a hand you cannot handle and I believe that through tears, gritted teeth, laughter and love I, and my family, have survived and actually done pretty well: the twins are happy, I am happy and my marriage is strong. 

And now in four months, five years after my first birth I will have another baby. So far the pregnancy has gone well, apart from the fact that even though I only have one baby in my belly I feel much heavier than with the twins and have had to slow down more than I had hoped to. But I am excited for this child and confess that I'm allowing myself to daydream and perhaps set myself up for potential disappointment: its only one so surely I will be able to breast feed easily, get more sleep and simply enjoy myself and my baby more than last time? 

Delivering the twins was a disappointment for me. After bravely announcing at their conception that I would give birth outside under the moonlight with a midwife, I ended up being convinced into having a c-section and very few of my birth-plan requests were fulfilled. The babies were not given to me immediately to bond and latch but whisked away to incubators immediately after delivery. With no real advice or support with feeding, Charles and I battled to get get their tiny mouths to latch. In a post-op blur I let the nurses take charge and only realised 24 hrs later that they were "topping" my babies up with formula because they said my milk was taking too long to come in! After reading more on this I now know that colostrum is all a baby needs in the first days after birth and your body will produce adequately for them as needed. 

Being no different to animals, conceiving and birthing a child is another reminder that we are of this earth just like all living beasts and we have everything we need to provide for our babies. If we cannot do it after good time then the medical experts can step in, but we must at least give it our best shot.

So this time I plan to keep my inner wisdom in my consciousness and allow it to take charge of birthing this baby. Thanks to an amazing book The Mama Bamba Way, written by a South African mid-wife Robyn Sheldon, I am convinced that unless something dreadfully unforeseen crops up I, like all women, have what it takes to bear my baby naturally.

Having declared all of this so confidently I also now know that one cannot be too idealistic when it comes to parenting, as every situation is unique and if you cannot live up to your own expectations you need to allow your ideals to be defeated and choose another route graciously. At the end of the day, as mothers, we do know what is best for ourselves and our babies and we must remember to never judge those that do it differently, because there is nothing like a child to bring you down to earth and face the facts.

So I will allow myself to dream and hope for a successful natural birth (in hospital, because of the prior cesarean), easy breast feeding, enough sleep and to be back on my horse and surfboard weeks after delivery! But I will bear in mind that all of this is held precariously in the hands of fate and I will need to bend whichever way the wind blows on the day that my third child is brought into the world.

mooning about in the outeniquas

There is nothing better than a weekend getaway with your family. To me it’s a precious little gift to oneself and one’s family, because let’s face it weekends can so often consist of catching up on work, kiddies birthday parties and social engagements which leave you more exhausted on Monday morning than you felt on Friday! Getting away to somewhere close but different forces one out of the “busy” habit and into relaxing and catching up on vital family time.

We recently discovered a gem: Outeniqua Moon Percheron stud and guest farm at the foot of the Outeniqua mountains near Mossel Bay. Reasonably priced and within a good driving distance from anywhere in the Garden Route, this little piece of paradise is well worth a visit.

The simple and charming self-catering cottages are tastefully and romantically decorated, giving one a sense of country luxury. As my daughter put it, “This place is better than I thought it would be. There are even gold taps!”

And if you really feel like a break from the usual domesticity order a delicious meal of your choice from hosts Christine and Peter, which is served in the dining room and followed by a decadent helping of desert.

But it is all for the love of horses that Outeniqua Moon exists and getting to know the gentle giant Percherons is a great way to while away a morning, whether its feeding and grooming - which Christine happily allows children to be involved with - or getting a ride around the farm with Bobby and his cart.

 

There is no shortage of kiddie entertainment from horses, bunnies and a well thought out play area to swimming and walking. And if you are feeling a little more adventurous hikes and 4x4 tracks are also easily accessible in the surrounding Outeniqua mountains.

I found Outeniqua Moon to be the perfect family getaway and left feeling rested and content…which could also have been from the magical tranquillity the gentle Percheron horses exude.

boot camp or not?

Of all the skills required to be a reasonably adequate parent I find the area of discipline the most challenging. And I'm sure I am not the only parent to feel this.

Disciplining your child lovingly and fairly while also instilling a deep understanding that under no circumstances may she repeatedly spit bath water all over the floor is quite difficult - to put it mildly. I have  tended to want to approach most misdemeanors with a severe tongue lashing in the hope that I don't have to take the reprimand any further and that I never have to go back to the same boring incident again, and again. But I've realised this really doesn't work as children soon become deaf to shouting. 

There is so much advice out there on how best to discipline your child: the most advocated, and a favourite of Super Nanny's, being "time out" and the least being smacking. But lets face it, trying to persuade a 3 or 4 year-old to sit quietly on a chair in the corner without screaming or running away is a lot more exhausting - and also open for further bad behaviour - than a firm smack on the bum. I am not saying that hitting small children should be the common form of punishment but I do feel that it can be rather effective if used sparingly and consciously. For Pete's sake most of us were smacked and locked in our bedrooms as children and I don't hold it against my parents or feel I have suffered any major trauma from it.

What I do feel has lead me to the therapist's door though is not being heard and understood. So I strongly feel that listening to your child's gripe or defense is a fair approach to deciding on the type of discipline she should get.

Having two children of the same age but with polar opposite personalities I have found that the same type of discipline does not work on both of them. Charlotte, who is constantly trying to perfect her world, cannot  bear the thought of being caught out at behaving badly and therefore sitting in the corner and having to actually think about her awful behaviour is almost too much to bear....which some would argue makes it a good form of punishment for her, but unfortunately for me too! What should take up to four minutes ends up taking an hour, with her screaming and me eventually losing all my calm unaffected "I can do this" demeanour of a parent in control. Invariably I end up in a rage that leaves me having to abort mission and walk away. Hence the entire objective to instill discipline is lost: the child gets away with screaming and I feel like a first class loser parent. So I choose alternative solutions with Charlotte, like talking about why it's not okay to do what she did, which really seems to work with her, and if it's particularly bad I will remove a privilege like T.V. 

Anna, however, is a different kettle of fish and with her, bless her mischievous little heart, I am constantly pulling out new tricks to stay on top of the discipline game. She is one of those children that if born to a timid softly spoken mother, which I am not, would run the entire household and perhaps the farm and surrounding community too. "Time out" seems to have no real effect on her as I have a strong sense that very little self-reflection is done in that corner, but instead it is used more as a time for her to cook up and perfect her defense speech. So for her I vary things quite a lot! I admit she has received a fair amount of spankings in her short life and thanks to her I have had extreme practice at controlling my patience. Ofcourse her forgivable grin and hilarious outlook on "the way life is" always helps us to bounce back quickly from any unpleasant outbursts.

No matter which way you look at it discipline is a full time occupation and there is a fine line between punishing one's child effectively and causing more parental anxiety. I can see now why there are some parents who choose to turn a blind eye to a lot of bad behaviour as sometimes it just doesn't seem like its worth the exhausting battle. I, however, take it all far too seriously to ignore the possibility of my children growing up into unpleasant adults and possibly often end up punishing myself more.

The bottom line is that kids need discipline but I think cutting them some slack here and there could stand their self esteem's in good stead. After all they are just kids and when else in their lives will they be able to so vehemently push the boundaries within the security of those who love them.
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