Monday, 17 December 2012

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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Tuesday, 13 November 2012

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.

Thursday, 25 October 2012

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.

Monday, 22 October 2012

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.

Sunday, 7 October 2012

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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Tuesday, 2 October 2012

terrific totseat

You would think when expecting twins one would get every apparatus under the sun to make life easier. Not me. While there is a whole world of merchandise out there designed purely for the sake of ease, I went blindly into mothering my two without some very necessary and convenient accessories. It probably had something to do with my non-materialistic attitude and if the bushman can get along without baby monitors and clip-in baby carriers, why can’t I?
But I have wisened up somewhat and if it’s available and makes our lives easier, hey why not? So this time around, even though I am only expecting one baby, I am on a serious look out for all necessary and convenient accessories. At least I now know what is a waste of money and what will truly stand baby and me in good stead.
So far I have seen some really cool stuff, but what really jumped out at me is the ultra-practical Totseat. This ingenious little contraption is designed to fit onto almost every type of chair so that you can strap baby in safely wherever you go. Perfect for home, eating out or outings - when you’ve had enough of following your enthusiastic crawler around and want to encourage some immobile quiet play at the table. Made out of various prints of funky material it folds up into a small bag that can be stuck into a handbag or baby-care bag with ease. The Totseat is an absolute must for every mother and definitely on my list of must-haves.
 

Sunday, 9 September 2012

the family holiday

With a new baby around the corner and the stress of added financial pressure, we decided to throw caution to the wind, leave our home, farm, animals and business for others to tend to and hit the long African roads - once more this year.
As usual we would camp - my husband does not believe a holiday with basic comforts is a holiday at all - he believes you have to be close to the ground and battle a bit in order for relaxation to take its course. But after our recent camping trip to Mozambique I felt unfased by the organised safari campsites available in the Kruger National Park, where we were headed- they even provide hot water on tap!
It takes me a full uninterrupted day to prepare for these trips, maybe I'm too organised but I can't seem to do it any other way than methodically ticking off items which I have broken down into various categories. Low and behold I forget the jam, rusks, binoculars or bird book - these are the simple and vital needs of my husband, who has little to do with packing and planning. All he needs to know is the time of our depature - which is never before 12 noon. Then he races around organising last minute business details which may include felling a 6m Eucalyptus tree, paddling a group of 20 kayakers to Robberg peninsula and back plus an urgent landscaping meeting. About an hour before departure I start to phone him in 15 minute intervals, keeping him focused on the main objective: to leave on holiday. He arrives home about 20 minutes late, changes his clothes and leaps into the driver's seat. We usually stop about three times in our driveway to run back into the house for a forgotten item before we actually pull out onto the main road. By then the already traumatised dog is utterly bewildered, are we coming or going? And the farm staff pretend not to notice. Ofcourse we also have to stop once or three times more to drop off or pick up something else - work related. Finally we leave town and I offer him a sandwhich, which he eats unconsciously while ticking off items on his mental list.
After about an hour of driving and last minute phone calls, Charles begins to unwind and allow the fact that we are going on holiday to filter into his consciousness. That's when we all breathe a sigh of relief, turn on the music and open some snacks. The twins are pro's at long drives these days and enthusiastically point out every sheep, cow and goat that we pass along the way.
South Africa is huge and driving three days to get North of the country is mandatory, unless one wants to fly, but I find driving part of the adventure and love to be reminded of what is out there and how diverse our country really is. I'm always equally shocked by both the stark beauty and the poverty and trash one sees around the outskirts of each town. A classic symbol of the third-world: garbage.
                                                                       

Stealing a swim in one of the many farm reservoirs along the hot and endless Karoo road reminded me of road trips in the past when being a responsible parent was a remote and distant possibility. It thrilled the girls and reminded me to feel free. However the reality of parental compromises was not far off  when we found ourselves eating take aways in the dark because we were overnighting in an open plan room and the girls refused to sleep with the lights on! I can't recall my own father agreeing to eat his cold supper with a warm Appletizer in the dark, while my brother and I snored away happily.
Finally we arrived at our destination and were greeted into the Kruger Park by a leopard sighting! Charles miraculously sighted the spotty cat dash through the long grass and come to a halt under a tree. We held our breaths and watched as he seemed active enough to be on the hunt, but sadly we were joined by five more vehicles and soon lost our visual. We decided after that that we would pretend to look the other way next time we spotted something so rare and elusive.
Before reaching our campsite we had already had a close encounter with a female elephant and her calf and seen zebra, impala and giraffe. The girls were delighted by each sighting throughout our stay in the park, no matter if it were a couple of banded mongoose at the campsite or a pride of lions crossing the road. Each animal was exclaimed upon in true and fascinated delight - making the sweat of getting to the bushveld so much more worth it for us as parents.

As the sun dipped Charles and I, in true Laurel and Hardy style, tried to put up our tent, which we had never used before. Eventually our neighbour took pity on our desperate attempts to get two hungry and tired four-year-olds to help us hold poles and stepped in to assist. Thank goodness for this and two-minute noodles - the girls were fed and asleep minutes after our homestead was erected. 
 
After that there wasn't much else to do but go on game drives, escape the midday heat at the pool and braai at night - what more can one ask for? The only thing lacking when one travels with small people is "time-out" from the continuous juvenile chatter, and a good afternoon nap - but we survived with only a few snarlings at one another.
Back home. Are we well rested? Physically, no. Mentally, yes, refreshed and ready to begin baby preparation in earnest...if I could just remember that I am pregnant every now and then inbetween mothering the existing two!