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.

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

twin choices

Twins, little twins, need a lot of things at the same time a lot of the time and one is forever juggling and compromising the needs of one or the other. It is an eternal question of whose needs are the most urgent. But I thought after my kids had learnt to hold a cup and pee in the toilet that my double duty was basically over and from now on it was pretty much the same deal as having two singleton kids. It seems I was wrong.
I recently thought that Anna's battle in the school playground was a passing phase and that I could help her through it with a some verbal encouragment and controlled playdates, but after closer observation I realised that a little more intervention was required.
So what to do? I have a happy child at school and an unhappy child at school. Charlotte is confident, stimulated and thriving and Anna is miserable and becoming more and more introverted.
My gut and mother's intuition said change Anna to a smaller school, but because I like to dig a little deeper into the meaning of these things I consulted the "oracle"  and my suspicions were confirmed: Anna is not happy and would do a lot better in a smaller environment.
So I have made the agonising decision to uproot them as from next school term and send them to the newly established Waldorf school. Its agonising because I know Charlotte is fine where she is and will definitely kick against the change, as is her nature, but having them at different schools in not an option. In this instance I think it is Anna's need that is the most urgent and at the end of the day it is I, the mother, who must take the brunt of this decision's consequences not Anna.

Getting it done

I have to admit that my personal downfall is being far too goal orientated, which often prevents me from seeing the wood for the trees. Thank goodness I am not the president of the country, as I couldn't imagine having to worry about the to-do list of an an entire nation when its hard enough worrying about that of a small farm and family of four!
I spend a lot of time noticing what needs to be done instead of enjoying what has been done and I have to keep reminding myself that Rome was not built in a day - although it was built!
The chicks will grow and a larger hen house will have to be built and then next month there will be another very important  project to take care of. In the mean time the house gets older and looses its hair (the thatch) and we eat or sell all the vegetables we planted - what an inconvenience because now we have to plant more!
Life is not stagnant and is continuously evolving and unfolding. I know I need to remember this, but I usually only do once I have got everything ticked off my list and I can bask in the brief moment of completion.
Children are also ever evolving and unfolding. I think as adults it is easy to forget this, as we grow emotionally very little in a year, if at all. But a year in a child's life is a small lifetime of growth and development.
Last school term Anna was coming home with stories of no one wanting to play with her. It upset her so much that she started waking up at night crying about it. But it was only when she got fevers and missed the last week of school that I began to consider that she may in fact be very stressed and perhaps it was time I took heed to what she had been trying to tell me. Charlotte's behaviour seemed affected too and she had a good run of tantrums that flew off the Richter scale. They were also fighting more than usual which was causing a lot of tension between us at home. I felt like I was at breaking point. But by the end of the school holiday and after a short weekend away in the mountains, they were back to their old happy selves.
When I first realised there was a problem I panicked, firstly because I felt helpless, then out of guilt for not acting sooner and finally out of anger that anything or anyone could be causing my child's unhappiness.
I was determined to sort this issue out once and for all and decided to meet with the teachers and the other parent involved. But after discussing the issues and options it no longer feels like a mountain to conquer, but just another growth phase in my children's life which I need to work through with them. Yes there is a social problem in the playground. Anna is battling to find her niche with friends and Charlotte is more popular which is causing a tense dynamic between them, but with a little awareness and a small amount of intervention, I think I will be able to help them through this.
Once again it is something ever evolving and not just another item to tick off my to-do list.

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

It is just over 3 months until my girls turn four, officially leaving toddlerhood behind and embarking on the next phase of life as Little Girls. A phase which I am already finding a lot more fun than the "eat, sleep, poo" phase and the "I can walk and talk, but see no reason" phase.
After nearly four years of wishing for a little extra sleep in the mornings instead of dealing with a dirty nappy at 5am and having tea demanded at 5.30am; we now don't see them until 7am! Charlotte, who is so determined to grow up, is now in the habit of dressing herself - including socks and shoes - before coming to say good morning and Anna has finally seen the light and realised that sleeping later is actually quite nice.
Although this is a very warmly welcomed development, I have caught myself feeling a bit rejected and starved of their warm little bodies on a cold winter's morning.
However, along with this growing up - there was a time when I was so overwhelmed by them as babies that I forgot they were going to grow up at all - comes a whole lot of new challenges that make sychronised feeds, mid-night wake-ups and 18 nappy changes a day seem like a walk in the park.
Firstly and most notably you can't pull the wool over their eyes because they know that "weetbix doesn't have sugar in it already, ok Mom" and "the biscuit Anna got is definitely bigger than mine!" You definitely can't dress them up to look as cute as you'd like them to. If you put something off until tommorrow, there is no way of getting out of it. And ofcourse the most difficult to adapt to: you can no longer talk about them in front of them, or swear, as they now, very inconveniently, understand almost everything. I find this one the hardest and hence it came back to bite me:
It was one of those days when your chíld decides to have a problem with everything and today it was Charlotte who challenged me at every point right up to throwing a tantrum in front of the school's admin office - an ideal position for the school staff to observe my excellent parenting skills! But I stayed calm and tried to meet her needs, no luck, she continued to scream and stamp her feet as mothers and teachers gave us a wide birth. And then, as if she felt my level embarrassment was not high enough, Anna promptly whipped down her pants and tried to show me her privates!
To hell with concious parenting! Panicked and crimson with embarrassment at the chaos my children were creating, I scooped them up under my arms and marched to the car.With both of them screaming, I managed to strap them into their safety chairs. Determined to get out of there as fast as possible, I'm sure I uttered more than a few vulgar words as I battled with the f*&#$ing seatbelts.
Once I had gained a bit of composure they got a calm yet lethal tongue lashing. The trip home was silent.
The afternoon unfolded quite pleasantly, considering its start, until Charlotte pushed me a little too far again -insisting on climbing on the roof of the car - she ended up in her bedroom with the door locked.
Time out for Charlotte has never been very successful, she doesn't grasp the concept of "be quiet and it will be over in 3 minutes" She gets quite angry, really angry. So I expected the thumping and screaming, but boy did I stop in my tracks when I heard: "Mom, I can't get this f*&#$ing door open!"
Oops.