Girls afternoon out - special moments at Pepperazzi

As the parents of four kids, we sometimes find ourselves failing miserably in our attempt to balance the time and attention we spend on each respective child. Unfortunately it is often the child who is being the most difficult, or creating the most problems who ends up getting the most attention.
In our family, little Aisha (2) is most often the recipient of our energies and attention. While Shakeel (13) and Tharaa (10) are able to forcefully claim our attention by screaming or moaning loudly enough, it is 7 year old Nuha who fades into the background, unnoticed and unheard. We therefore have to make a conscious effort to set aside time for her whenever possible.
 
We realised that we had to consciously carve out time for each child. We’d do this by arranging for one of us to have one-on-one time with each one of them, while the other looks after the remaining three. We hoped to do this as often as possible.

A few months ago I took Tharaa out for a sushi lunch. We had fully intended this to be the first of many, once her siblings had had their turns. We do not include Aisha in this queue- for- attention because, as centre of the universe, she already owns all our time.

Since learning that the Avengers (2012) would be hitting the movie circuit this year, their dad, Mo has been using Shakeel as an excuse  planning to spend his one-on-one time with Shakeel by sharing this amazing movie experience with him. (Imagine, all these Marvel superheroes in one movie! I’m on the edge of my seat with barely-contained excitement *dripping with sarcasm* ). They planned to attend this life –changing event this past weekend.

As usual, Nuha has thus far been the one to fall through the cracks. So, this weekend I was to take her to lunch. But cowards that we are, Mo and I could not bear Tharaa’s nagging, so (I’m ashamed to say) we decided to include her in Nuha’s one-on-one lunch.

We headed to Pepperazzi in Canal Walk. There was a slight wait for our orders to arrive, because the place was absolutely packed. The girls passed the time playing games and bickering.

I ordered an avocado and pineapple steak burger. Either I was really hungry by the time the food arrived, or this was one of the most satisfying restaurant meals I’ve had in a long time.

 Nuha ordered a simple kiddies beef burger and chips
  

  

Tharaa ordered the kiddies ribs and chips. 

Tharaa had us wishing that we'd ordered the ribs too

A picture's worth a thousand words

  
Although they enjoyed our little outing, I cannot in good conscience count this as Nuha's one-on-one time with me. I am really looking forward to spending some 'alone-time' with my deserving little daughter.

Despite their bickering during our outing, I will always cherish the wonderful moments we shared on our outing and am looking forward to doing it again.

First day back at school blues (mine)

Once again, as many stay-at-home mums heave a collective sigh of relief, I sit here sniffing into my tissues; missing my babies.

I've brushed hair, handed out lunches, checked signed reports, given giant bear hugs, planted a million kisses on cheeks - and waved a sad dramatic good-bye.

I miss them so much.

Last night I brought up the topic of homeschooling with Mo. What if we hire a retired teacher to assist me with the classes? Wouldn't we still be saving money if taking into account school fees and transport costs (I was grasping at straws; trying to convince him). Why subject them to potential peer pressure, bullying and negative influences?

Why couldn't they just stay home with me?

I miss them. I miss them. I know it's pathetic, but I really miss them.

Despite the constant bickering during this holiday that had me pulling at my hair; despite the constant mess that had me yelling and screaming.

I'm a sad pathetic mommy - whose life is way too wrapped up in those of her kids.

Not to mention a scared mommy - as I wait for two- year old tantrum-throwing Aisha to awaken. No Shakeel (12) to rush into the room first thing in the morning to marvel at his little sister, no Nuha (7) cause her first morning giggles and no Tharaa (10) to help her and comfort her like a little mommy. But fear of dealing with Aisha's moods alone is not the reason I'm missing the other kids so much.
I swear its not. Okay, maybe it is - a bit.

I step into their rooms which they have tidied all by themselves this morning. (They had taken my growling and threatening of last night seriously). My sweethearts!

Okay, I know that this is probably the most annoying post to which I've ever subjected anyone - so I'll stop. While I chew on my nails waiting for Aisha to awaken.

Bigfoot in a sexy mini skirt

Finally, after weeks of trying to get it right, I think we finally have.

By 18:00 yesterday I was heading for the shower- all homework had been completed, books signed and dinner was on the table, ready to be served.

The answer had lain in the re-shuffling priorities. Immediately upon arriving back home at 15:10 yesterday, we all raced to the television to watch the last few minutes of the repeat of 7de Laan. My excuse (luckily backed up by Shakeel's Afrikaans teacher) is that watching this light-hearted Afrikaans soapie helps with the Afrikaans grammar and vocabulary. No really- watching this programme has done wonders for my Afrikaans vocabulary!

Immediately after this programme ended at 15:30, I sat down with 7 yr old Nuha's Grade 2 homework. This was a strategic move- she has the least homework, so getting her to finish first means that there is someone to play with 2 yr old Aisha, who would otherwise spend the entire afternoon disturbing the older two kids, demanding that they play with her.

Nuha receives a list of 15 words each Monday to be studied for the test on Friday. The maths for the test varies. This week they will be tested on "counting in two's" . Since the teacher was absent Monday and Tuesday, they only received the list yesterday. Despite that, we managed to finish studying the spelling list- and she was able to count in two's effortlessly. Thank goodness, because- as planned, she was able to start drawing with Aisha; enabling Shakeel (12) and Tharaa (10) to continue with their work unhindered.

Every day Tharaa is given a list of 5 English words and 5 Afrikaans words; which have to be used in sentences which show that the child grasps the meaning of each word. The Afrikaans sentences have proven to be a bit tricky, as none of my kids are able to master the word order in Afrikaans sentences and tend to translate directly from English; resulting in clumsy lopsided sentences. The problem is that they don't hear Afrikaans being spoken at home, or even by friends and family. (Illustrating once again, that I'm not being a bad mommy by letting my kids watch 7de Laan when they get home from school).

Shakeel finishes his homework in class, while the other kids are chatting away in their free time. Not because he is a goody two shoes, but because he is hoping against hope that this will prompt me to let him watch an episode or 2 (or 3 or 4) of Naruto, 'the coolest series ever!!'

But instead, I rewarded his dedication by requesting demanding that he brings home all his books- I'm determined to get a jump on preparations for the March/April formal assessments/exams. So yesterday we learned all about earthquakes. Pretty interesting stuff really- for me, at least. I animatedly demonstrated to Shakeel how the tectonic plates, which lie adjacent to each other, move about- by holding my hands palms-facing-downward and moving them about like a DJ scratching his vinyl (Am I cool or what!)

To help him remember the concept of the seismic waves I moved my arms about in undulating motions (I knew my bellydance lessons would come in handy some day). Then illustrating the varying speeds of seismic waves I proceeded to speed up my arm waves (probably looking like a demented breakdancer) - much to the embarrassment and horror of my poor son. But, as mortified as he was, the information had stuck. I tested him on the remainder of 'Earthquakes' and we also touched on 'Volcanoes'. We learned so much yesterday- I am confident that, come March/April, I will be able to tackle any question in the exam with ease.

After spending the afternoon filling my head with knowledge for which I would be unlikely to find absolutely any use in my life, I set the table and phoned Mo to find out when he'd be home for supper. I proudly told him all we had accomplished for the afternoon.

Now because of the scorching hot summer we've been experiencing, I've gotten into the habit of prancing about the house in the shortest skimpiest little dresses- not for the sake of being sexy (obviously), but because having clothes against my body was just unbearable.

Neither the kids, nor Mo had said anything about this all summer, so imagine my surprise when Mo ended the phone conversation with, "Um, er- could you perhaps shave your legs before I get home?",

Imagine that!  I was about to start yelling in protest, telling him that I had enough on my plate and, excuse me if I didn't still have time for vanity, when I happened to look down at my legs. Yikes, how had I missed this? I looked like Bigfoot in a very sexy shift dress.

So there I was at 18:00 yesterday- with homework completed, books signed and dinner on the table, ready to be served. On my way  to the bathroom- not for a relaxing rewarding shower, but to hack away at the jungle that had been flourishing on my limbs. Mildly concerned about depriving any wildlife of their home. Fully expecting angry bats to come flapping at me, furious at being evicted from the habitat in which they had thrived, undisturbed for the past 6 months.

I emerged a new woman, strutting down the passage all smooth and hairless in my sexy little dress- to clean up the puddle of Aisha's pee in Shakeel's room.

The kids make a comeback- and mom dances a jig

This morning I awoke to birds chirping more happily, the sun shining more brightly and the blue sky looking more radiant. Even Shakeel (12)'s grumpy morning face looked adorable.

It seems that the tides have turned. The winds of positive change are finally breezing through our household, hopefully cleansing it of all last week's negativity, stress and drama (as described here)

Yesterday afternoon I summoned each one to bring me their homework diaries and messages/letters sent from school. I braced myself- I just didn't know what to expect these days.

Furtive glances among the three older kids made my heart sink. What the heck now? But wait- they were smiling; happily excited. I was suspicious.

"What's going on?" I asked apprehensively, already working out what punishment I would be meting out to each respective child.

More furtive glances.

Then...

"Ta daaah!!" they all shouted in unison, each pulling out an item which they had been hiding behind their backs.

Shakeel had been presented with both his Library monitor and Playground Monitor badges. He can now boss everyone around the way he loves to do- but only now it is official.

I congratulated, gushed and hugged. Nobody deserved to be awarded this honour more than he did- nobody is as bossy as he is. This role suits him perfectly. I was proud and happy.

Shakeel shyly, but proudly posing with his two monitor badges

"And, that's not all," sang Tharaa (10), sounding like the guy on the Verimark infomercial about to announce a product's additional features. She pulled out her Homework Book.

I broke out in a cold sweat. The dreaded Homework Book. The cause of all last week's trouble. I readied myself to attack.

She flipped to the last page of her completed homework. At the bottom were the words "Lovely work. Keep it up" accompanied by a sticker of a smiling heart surrounded by bright yellow stars.

Now I'm aware that at schools these days, kids are routinely awarded smiley faces, hearts and kisses and the words "Well done, sweetheart" or "Good work little genius", so it really doesn't carry as much weight as say, when I was at school. But coming from this teacher this was really quite a vote of approval, as this woman is known to have high standards and to be intolerant of mediocre slapdash work (which is the reason she and Tharaa had gotten off to a rocky start in the first place).

I whooped, danced a jig, hugged and whooped some more. I sighed a happy sigh of relief. This motivation from an authority figure whom Tharaa admires and respects, is exactly the encouragement this child needs to continue on this path. (Yes, I do realise the implication- that I am not an authority figure she admires and respects, but hey, right now I'm just happy to have the teacher's help- I'll save my tears for therapy).

"And, that's not all," sang Tharaa in her Verimark infomercial voice. She yanked a green card from Nuha (7)'s hand.

"No, I want to show Mommy. It's my card!" wailed Nuha.

"Okay then" said Tharaa tossing the card onto the floor. I felt my earlier pride slowly start to dissipate. 

Nuha picked it up and showed it to me proudly. "Look Mommy. I got a green card today!" Oh, more relief! Green cards signify good behaviour in class; an indication that the child has worked and behaved well for the day.

Now the fact that there had been a few orange cards (signifying that the child needs to work harder at being attentive in class) interspersed among the green cards over the past two weeks, would not have bothered me too much in the past. Nuha was quite a chatterbox, I know. She has a very loud husky voice, which inevitably stands out and is always heard by the teacher when the class becomes chatty.

But I had been in a fragile state due to the antics of the older two, so the orange cards, to me, started to signify my failure as a parent. Was I raising delinquent children? How had I gone so terribly wrong?

Once again I hugged, danced and became teary-eyed- maybe I wasn't a complete loser as a mother after all.

So this morning I could overlook Shakeel's moods and the fact that 2 year old Aisha had kept me up for much of the night. There was hope once again. My kids were emerging from their brush with near-delinquency; and were once again showing me how amazing they can be if they try.

The day I realised that my son needs friends

Up until recently I had always been very happy that my kids enjoy playing together- not really needing anyone else with whom to play.

This doesn't mean that I did not notice how Shakeel lights up when he's around boys his own age and turns into a raving lunatic- punching, kicking, roaring and growling. It's as if he is on some kind of demented high.

It is also really annoying to see how he tries to turn his little sisters into little boys. He'd become irritated when they wanted to do anything girly, so most often they end up playing warrior/fighting/ninja games or run-from-the-roaring growling dinosaur/lion/whatever carnivore he feels like being on that day.

Although he had a best friend in Grade 4, he's pretty much been without one since that boy left for another school. Since then he's been bouncing between cliques; never really belonging to any one. I was aware that it was bothering him- he always said that when the class was asked to partner into groups of two, nobody would choose him- not because they didn't like him, but because each had his/her own special buddy.

This bothered me, but not long enough to do something about it, since he'd come home and play with his sisters quite happily. I'd convince myself that he would be okay and that it was better if he just played with his sisters, as it meant fewer negative outside influences from hormonal inquisitive pre-teen boys.

But then I read this article and was overcome with guilt and sadness. My son was being deprived of so much by not having a best friend- it was not merely a nice-to-have (as I had assumed), but a very essential part of his healthy development.

In a nutshell- according to the article research has shown boys to be as relationship-oriented as girls are. Boys too need a special friend with whom to share secrets and discuss personal issues. Close relationships, according to this article, are associated with "better emotional and physical health as well as academic engagement and achievement". In addition, "adolescents without close friendships are at risk for depression, suicide, dropping out of school, early pregnancy, drug use, and gang membership".

Fortunately two of his friends, Caleb and Sipho (who, in turn, are best friends) invited him to spend the day with them soon after I'd acquired this illuminating bit of information. As uncomfortable as it was for me- since I hate my kids spending, what I consider to be family time, away from us- I forced myself to change my mindset. I had always been focused on developing Shakeel academically to the detriment of other areas of his life.

This misguided approach of mine is most likely also the reason he handles stress so badly. His relative isolation means that he does not have anyone with whom to share his concerns, or to provide him with the perspective of a fellow 12-year old. If he'd had that, he would have realised that the world does not end if you do not obtain among the top marks in your class or if you are not chosen as class monitor.

So at this moment my son is playing outside in the plastic pool with Caleb and Sipho, who'd both spent the night last night. Even this sleepover had been the source of so much stress for Shakeel. What if they did not enjoy themselves?he'd wondered. What if they did not enjoy playing in the plastic pool, since they were accustomed to swimming in Caleb's massive 'real' pool?

But he needn't have worried. The excited shrieks and laughter were more than enough evidence of the wonderful time they were having.

The idea had been to pitch a tent and camp out in the yard, but I think none of them had actually had the guts to go through with that plan. So the tent was pitched in the living room, with Sipho choosing to sleep in there;  Shakeel dragged a mattress from the room for himself, while Caleb lay sprawled on a very comfy sofa.

They spent the earlier part of the evening watching stand-up comedian Trevor Noah and then fell asleep in front of the television.

This morning they accompanied my kids to their karate classes, after which they spent the rest of the day hopping in and out of the pool. By early afternoon though they were clearly becoming worried that their time together was running out, so they asked if they could sleep over again tonight.

Despite the fact that we were attending a prayer gathering tonight (and neither of them are Muslim), they still were prepared to sit through the prayer meeting in order to be able to sleep over afterward. Since the gathering was held to mark the death of my father-in-law a year ago, it was held at my mother-in-law's place.

The two boys dutifully and respectfully sat through the prayers after which they stuffed themselves and went to play soccer in the road with my kids' cousins.

They are now done swimming and are lying in bed chatting away happily. Earlier I overheard their plans to sit with some Maths worksheets (which Shakeel is expected to do); and to choreograph a dance. It sounds as if they have a full schedule planned for tomorrow.

I am feeling so contented right now. I love how happy these friends are making my son. I am also really pleased that they seem to be having such a wonderful time and have fitted into the family so comfortably. Both boys went over to give my mother-in-law a kiss and hug before we left which I thought was rather sweet.

I hope that this year Shakeel will forge firm friendships which will provide him with the necessary support he needs- now and in the future. My hope is also that him having carefree (though not careless and irresponsible) friends will assist him to have a balanced approach to his life; and that him having friends with whom he can communicate and share his feelings and thoughts, will help him to manage his stress in a positive healthy way.

Mostly, I just want him to be happy- to create memories upon which he can look fondly in future, with the knowledge and satisfaction that his childhood had been a happy one.

Katjie arrives- and lays down the law

Our domestic worker Katjie arrived at about midday yesterday. Or should I say 'returned', as she had worked for us until two years ago (as described in a previous post)

By 13:00 it was as if she had never left- and that is not necessarily a good thing. After a quick shower in her quarters, she came to find me where I had been hiding and laid down the law.

First there were the more reasonable demands with which I was expected to (and with which I was happy to) comply. These involved her new dietary restrictions, which have been introduced by her local doctor as a result of her stomach ulcers. So I am not to serve her curry or any spicy food, anything with tomato or fizzy drinks. No problem- I could easily cater for her in my meal planning.

Then she noted that she would tackle the rooms today as she had been too tired. I agreed- I had in fact told her to spend the afternoon recovering from her long taxi journey. But it seemed to me that she preferred to spend the afternoon tormenting me. So after we'd agreed that the housework would be postponed until today, she informed me that I would need to gear up for a really busy day as I would be assisting her. Um, is this normal? I really wasn't sure if I was just out of touch with the employer-employee dynamic. I really didn't know if this was a typical type of interaction between boss and worker. So I wracked my brains trying to imagine how my previous employers would have responded had this scenario played out when I had been employed by them.

Me (employee): "We are a bit short-staffed. We do not have enough monitors to report on all the important Parliamentary Committee meetings".

Employer: "I agree- we shall have to conduct interviews before the Parliamentary schedule becomes too full; by which time we must have employed sufficient people to cover each meeting. You should advertise the vacancies as soon as possible and then start the interview process".

Me: "Well, then you'd better get lots of rest because you're helping me. There's no way I'm tackling that laborious task by myself".

Now, it has been a while since I've been in the formal work environment, but something tells me that that conversation would not have ended well- for me. But in my upside-down world where my domestic workers completely take control of my household, while I hide in my room (or wherever they aren't), that type of interaction is quite typical.

Then she looked at Aisha, who was so delighted to have a person other than me with whom to play (or so the poor thing thought).

Katjie: How old is she?

Me: She turned two in November.

Katjie: I assumed that she would be in creche or daycare or something by now.
[Me- panicking- is that why she had agreed to come back?]

Me: No she's still too young- and I am at home, so there is no reason to send her to daycare. I still want to spend time with my baby.
Is that disapproval I see?

Katjie: Is she still as naughty as she used to be?
I searched her face for a hint of a smile, but there was none.

I was becoming annoyed. I am definitely not one of those parents who regards her children as infallible little angels, but Aisha had been about 4-6 months old when this woman left. What the heck was she talking about?

When the kids came home Nuha shyly went over to her. Nuha had always liked Katjie. In my attempt to break the ice, I asked, "Katjie, did you see how much Nuha's grown?"
She scrutinised Nuha from top to bottom. Clearly not impressed, she commented, "Mmmm, she's obviously not going to be very tall. She really hasn't grown much since I last saw her".

Fortunately she'd been speaking Afrikaans, of which Nuha understands a few very basic words- not enough to make sense of that much-too-honest comment.

Her brutal honesty took me right back to the day we brought Aisha home from the hospital for the first time.
"Mmm, this one is nice and yellow- just like Tharaa. Now you only have one black daughter- she clearly is as black as her brother- shame".

I remember feeling as if I wanted to clasp my hand over her mouth to shut her up before she inflicted permanent damage upon my child, who had been standing right there grinning with pride at her new baby sister.

Oh dear, I hope we haven't just made a huge mistake by taking her back. We shall probably  give her a few days to acclimatise and then reassess the situation. I hope that we will be brave enough to take the necessary action should it be required.

Bliss- on a school afternoon!

Even though school is already in full swing this week, at home we are still slowly making the adjustment from the holiday.


The fact that we have in Cape Town been enjoying 'summer holiday weather' this week does not help matters. We still have not taken down the plastic pool- it is quite large, so draining all the water is a long guilt inducing process (I can't bear to watch all that water simply flow away, considering the water-shortages in so many parts of the world). We shall therefore only take it down once we are certain that all the sweltering summer days are behind us.


When fetching the kids from school, the nerve-wracking drive through the blistering heat in the city centre has me completely wilted by the time I get home. So today I joined them in their pool much to their delight. The cool refreshing water revitalised me immediately. I spent a blissful 45 minutes playing with the kids and just lazing about in the water with them before coming inside to prepare dinner.


So with lifted spirits the kids are now tackling their homework- and they are certainly being much more productive than they would have been had they not enjoyed their rejuvenating afternoon splash.

Week 1 done and dusted; and a pledge to Nuha

So the first school week of 2012 has come and almost gone.


It truly has been one of my most challenging weeks in a long time. But it has also been riddled with undeniable blessings.


Firstly regarding my fearful anticipation of driving in the city centre for the first time, which I described in my previous post, let's just say- I had every reason to be fearful. No, I did not struggle with the lane changing and end up in another province, as I had feared would happen. But it had been really really stressful and unpleasant. It has made home schooling seem like a really attractive option.


Shakeel's report card was lost; and then found. That was the first blessing- not only the fact that it was found, but that its contents reminded me of how dedicated this son of mine can be when he sets his mind to something. I am feeling a bit more confident and relaxed about him being in Grade 7 and the fact that we will start applying to high schools soon.


Shakeel had been pleasantly surprised that his teacher, about whom he had had all sorts of negative scary preconceived ideas and misinformation, has turned out to be 'really really cool'. What added to his 'coolness', was the fact that he has a second dan black belt in karate;  which pretty much makes him Shakeel's new hero. I'm glad that my son has something less about which he has to stress this year.


Yesterday Shakeel informed me that Tharaa's teacher (who had been his Grade 5 teacher) is very strict. Perfect. No, I'm not being sarcastic- I really mean that it is perfect for Tharaa. Her teacher last year had been a wonderful, fun-loving, delightful, cheerful and happy person. That type of teacher is perfect for Shakeel, since he needs to loosen up and relax. But for Tharaa, for whom the most important part of school is the playground and field upon which she can practice her cartwheels, a strict teacher is exactly what was needed.


Many afternoons last year she had come home, and much to my frustration, had told me that she had completed her homework in Homework Class (which they have as part of the Aftercare system). She had always said that she left her completed homework at school and that this had been expected of them (to prevent them from forgetting their homework at home).


Okay, I realise now that me believing that rubbish had been stupid. Or maybe just convenient. It was one person less whose work had to be checked. But I had faced the consequences just before exam time, when I looked at her Maths book to draft practice worksheets, just to find that none of her homework examples (upon which my worksheets would have been based), had been completed. Her teacher had left notes like "Homework not completed", but there had never been consequences. And of course the book had never come home with her, despite my numerous requests.


So on Wednesday I was very surprised when my carefree and careless daughter came home and hit the books immediately. What really amused me was the fact that she cried the entire time she was doing her homework. This continued yesterday, by which time her crying and sobbing had become less amusing and more irritating. But thanks to her new strict teacher, she won't dare to pull the crap she did last year. So eyes heavenward, I fall to my knees in sheer gratitude for Tharaa's new teacher being perfectly matched to my daughter's temperament.


And then there's my mixed blessing- the fact that Aisha absolutely refuses to keep on her nappy during the day. Yesterday she asked to pee and, when placed on the toilet, it turned out that she actually did have to pee. But, there is always the anxiety about whether she has left any puddles around, which have yet to be detected. So now walking around the house feels like walking in Sea Point park- with one constantly on the lookout for little 'accidents' into which one might inadvertently step.


As usual my little patient tolerant angel, Nuha enters the picture as if by an after-thought- but the reality is that she is ever-present in my nagging conscience (as she had been for the whole of last year). I'm not sure if all my focus (due to lack of time) is easily averted from her due to her tolerant accepting nature; or if she has been forced to become accepting by virtue of the fact that she is so often overlooked. The other three are so demanding, dramatic, and assertive that I've found myself focusing mainly on them, to the detriment of poor Nuha.


I was actually pleased when she started to speak out in the holidays- insisting a few times that I see to her needs first. This was unusual- it definitely made my life more challenging, but it was necessary. I was not doing a very good job of balancing the needs of the four of them. She had simply been trying to restore the balance (which had not been her job- I should have been more attentive to her needs anyway).


So this year I undertake to become much more organised and disciplined about my time-allocation. Shakeel will have to become more independent of me (which he has already been doing since last year). I will be watching Tharaa like a hawk- there is no way I'm letting a ten-year old get the better of me this year again. (Amazingly she did quite well in her exams though- but this was thanks to pre-examination cramming and not consistently hard work done throughout the year). We are getting a domestic worker to help with light household chores and provide me with some relief with Aisha.


But once the kids return from school, my priority will be spending time assisting Nuha with her homework- before the others descend upon me with their demands, tantrums and tirades.


So with week one survived, let's hope that next week will be smooth sailing.

A morning of tears, anticipation and four-letter words

So the kids have left for school on their first morning back, and I have been weepy ever since. What is wrong with me? Many stay-at-home moms are viewing today as their first day of well-deserved freedom; the restoration of peace in their homes- why can't I feel that sense of relief?

Possibly I'm just suffering the after-effects of a really stressful morning- only made so by twelve-year old Shakeel's anxiety about being late. We live about 15-20 minutes away from school, which starts at 07:55; but if they cannot leave the house by 07:00 (07:10 for the latest), he considers them to be late and starts becoming anxious. This anxiety he manifests by becoming bossy with his sisters; and even a bit aggressive.

He'll follow them around saying things like, "Get done! Move faster- if you don't move faster, I'll punch you" or "Did you have breakfast yet? No, now it's too late- you'll have to starve!"

It is terribly stressful having to break up arguments- in order to prevent them from turning into full-blown fights- so early in the freakin' morning.

But there are advantages to living with the Punctuality Policeman. He's the one who announced bedtime last night- at 19:45 they were all in bed- uniforms had been laid out and stationery neatly packed away and labelled.

But even he was so excited that by 20:30 there was still giggling and play-fighting coming from the bedroom. Then came a bloodcurdling scream from Shakeel which made my blood run cold. I ran to the room wondering what I would do if I encountered a snake or spider in their bed.

"What happened?" I yelled in panic. "Is anybody hurt?"

Shakeel, with a horrified expression on his face pointed at a butt-naked Aisha (2) who had, as she tends to do these days, decided that she had had enough of her nappy and panty.
"She's crawling all over my bed with her gross bum and vagina. She's disgusting- get her away!!!"

This had Nuha (7) and Tharaa (10) in stitches. I had to step in before a fight ensued, as I knew that Shakeel would feel as if they were mocking him.

For the umpteenth time, I told them to keep quiet and sleep- or else.

There was silence- then the beginning of what sounded like a play-fight. I left them, waiting for my irritation to subside before I would re-enter the room. But then there was a shriek, followed by Nuha bursting into tears.

Shakeel came running out of the room, tears running down his cheeks- with laughter! I was livid, no longer interested in explanations, I would punish him for whatever he had done to Nuha. But then she came out of the room, half-crying, half-laughing to offer an explanation.

Aisha had made her way back into the room (Barney was not doing a very good job of baby-sitting her last night, while I prepared lunches). When she had tried to get onto Nuha's bed, Nuha had shoved her off in irritation. Aisha had then landed a punch on Nuha's cheek with one fist, and then another with her other fist. I was horrified. I blamed them for teaching her such violence. And why the heck did they find that funny?

Nuha then explained that after her two-year old little sister had landed these punches, she'd bowed at Nuha- as she had watched them do at karate.

Again, with more threats of punishment, I sent them back to bed. By 22:00 I heard the last of the whispering.

Thanks to Shakeel, this morning everything was completed timeously. Until I realised that none of them had bothered to eat. They were too excited, they claimed. Before I could launch into a lecture on how breakfast is the most important meal of the day, Tharaa dashed off to make everyone a slice of toast on which to nibble in the car.

Then, as they were leaving, Mo asked if their report cards had been signed and packed in. Crap- I had completely forgotten about that. Tharaa's and Nuha's were found, signed and packed. Shakeel's has been misplaced, which added to the poor thing's anxiety. I shall spend the day looking for it.

When greeting them, I whispered in Shakeel's ear that everything would be okay. I felt completely inadequate at providing such assurances, since I am exactly the way he is- and I still don't know how to calm myself or put myself at ease. So how was I supposed to do it for this poor child, who has undoubtedly acquired this unfortunate trait from me?
"You just don't understand," he responded. "It's the first day of school- you just don't know what it's like."
If he but knew that if there was anyone who could understand his feelings- it would be me.

Today is the first time I shall be fetching the kids at school by myself. It is also the first time I shall be driving in the city centre by myself. There will be no Mo to tell me when to change lanes; which could become problematic on the N1. I'm told that if one does not turn off at all, but continues straight along the N1, one will end up in Johannesburg; so I'd best remember to pack extra cash and some light snacks.

Nuha finishes at 13:30, and plays in the foundation phase playground until the rest of the school is dismissed at 14:30. I asked her if she would like me to come onto the playground and spend some time with her while we wait for the older kids (the way I've seen other mommies do). At first she looked horrified, then just plain uncomfortable.

"Mommy, why don't you charge your laptop at home and then just stay in the car with your laptop. But you can bring Aisha to me on the playground".

Tharaa was amused. "Does Mommy embarrass you?" Clearly uncomfortable, Nuha just gave an awkward smile. Tharaa was enjoying this, so she continued, "If Mommy were to make herself pretty, can she then come onto your playground- just to sit there and watch you play?"

Poor Nuha looked as if she wanted the ground to swallow her. "If Mommy makes herself pretty she can come and sit on the playground- and I'll go and sit in the car," she responded, clearly utterly miserable at having been placed in that position.

Shakeel, shaking his head, again muttered, "You just don't understand Mommy. You don't understand".

So that was my morning. I learned that I am too ugly to be seen with my kids in public and too stupid to understand anything. And yet I still miss them so much. I'm counting the hours before everyone's safe return home (albeit via Johannesburg).

Fancy-pants holiday?...I think not

This is the first time in years that we have, by this time, still made no definite plans to go away for the holidays. But Mo is however still determined to ensure that we go somewhere- even if it's just somewhere nearby; even just for a few days.


So I've been observing him poring over websites and advertisements, stressing about which places have the best amenities and more importantly, which have the most varied activities for the kids.

It's not that I think the kids will not enjoy quadbiking, pony rides, fishing etc. It's just that I don't think that they really need it in order to have an amazing time.

Growing up, we went to the same holiday resort every single year. Both my brother and I got to take a friend/cousin to keep us company. The place we went to was nice enough- we stayed in a two-bedroomed little house, which had all the basic amenities. There were tennis courts, swimming pools and there was a games room, which had badmington and table tennis.

My family made full use of these facilities- my dad, brother and I would swim laps daily and my parents became extremely competitive against each other on the tennis courts. But it was playing table tennis that the entire family enjoyed the most; and in which each one believed that he/she out-performed the other.

We really didn't need more than that to derive the ultimate enjoyment and pleasure from our holidays.

One year my dad decided to take us to a more expensive seaside resort. This place boasted luxurious accomodation, numerous pools, gym, fancy restaurants, squash courts, etc. But because it was more expensive than our usual holiday destination, we were unable to take along our friend/cousin as a companion. The atmosphere was also very different to our usual holiday destination; and we did not really spend much time together enjoying shared family activities.

I was absolutely miserable the entire time.

Looking back I realise that one of the reasons was that I had no one my age with whom to share all this. The varied selection of activities on offer meant that we actually ended up not doing much together- my brother preferred to play squash, while I preferred to gym. 

Our usual holiday destination, although much cheaper, had served its purpose more than adequately- it had provided us with the activities in which we had all loved to participate; in an environment which we found comfortable and welcoming.

In addition, we had met so many wonderful friends. Every year was a bittersweet experience- as we would make new friends, with whom we'd promise to keep in touch, but whom we knew we would very possibly never see again.

My kids are even more easily satisfied than what I was. We too have been holidaying at the same place for the past few years. Our accomodation usually depended on our budget for that trip. There's usually the fairly luxurious flat with a shared heated pool for residents of those flats- for when the budget allowed. Otherwise a cheaper tiny rondawel/hut more than served its purpose (shielding us from the elements, place to sleep, place to dump our bags, have our meals and have our family bickering in private).

Never has the fact that we were housed in the smaller, less fancy accomodation in any way lessened the kids' enjoyment of their holiday. In fact, I'd say being forced outdoors added to the fun. The rondawels are situated on green slopes; their degree of lushness being dependent on the time of year. Since there is not much space to laze around in the tiny rondawels, the kids have often found themselves spending many pleasurable hours chasing guinea fowl, dodging termite mounds, admiring various other species of birds and inspecting the white-shelled snails.

Thanks to Shakeel's extremely fertile imagination, he- on more than one occasion- has managed to convince his sisters to help him to look for snakes, which he is convinced are lurking beneath each rock.

The kids, who love animals, also spend much of their time playing with and feeding the stray cats, which means that very soon we are usually feeding an entire colony of these strays.

I think that whether we get to go on some adventurous getaway or not- the kids will enjoy themselves by virtue of the fact that they have each others' company. They bicker and fight constantly, and I have already, much to their amusement, lost track of all the punishment I have meted out to each one respectively, because of their constant fighting. They nag often, about being hungry, about being bored etc etc.

But it's playing together wherever they find themselves, that they enjoy the most. Whether we are out on holiday or simply at home, they usually find activities to keep themselves occupied.

They have just emerged from a time-out, which followed a massive argument over whose chores had been easiest- and it's as if their earlier fight had never happened. They are currently in the kitchen making popcorn together- and laughing themselves silly at something stupid. Although another argument is very likely to ensue soon- about who generated the most mess during the popcorn-making and who is therefore responsible for the most cleaning, one can be sure that they will bounce back from that too- just to find another activity to keep them occupied and happy.

So I'm not really too panicked about finding the perfect place to spend the holiday. Because their pleasure and happiness this holiday has very little to do with how fancy their surroundings, how varied the activities on offer, and how lavish the holiday accommodation- and more to do with those with whom they are spending it.

And now that I hear the next argument starting, I must admit that a lovely private getaway-for-one seems like a fabulous idea.

Water babies

A few days ago Mo announced that he had an appointment in Gansbaai this morning. Since it is a two-hour drive to the little town, he thought we could all tag along- pack a picnic basket and the kids' bathing costumes- and make a day of it.

But it was not to be. Due to circumstances beyond our control, we had been unable to accompany him, which meant that I spent all day home alone with the kids. But I was not as perturbed at the thought as one might have expected-  the two and a half hour drive to Gansbaai with Aisha screaming in her car seat had been a far more daunting prospect.

If I had been at all concerned about how to keep them entertained for the entire day, I needn't have been.

My four kids love water. Give them access to water (whether in the form of a swimming pool, beach, dam, pond or puddle), and they are able to keep themselves busy for hours on end.

Since we do not have a built in swimming pool, their father bought them a 4m (diameter) x 1m (height) plastic pool last year. It was heaven (for me). Apart from the perpetually wet floors covered in wet towels, the fact that they were always happily entertaining themselves (and then-one year old Aisha) worked out very well for me.

But since Mo had, by the time he left this morning, not had the opportunity to set up the pool, which takes an eternity to fill with water, the kids had to find another way to cool down. I had faith in them- I was certain that they'd find some or other water source to keep them happy.

And soon their shrieks of delight could be heard, along with the sound of splashing water. Just to be sure that they weren't cooling off in drain water, I went out to check and found all four of them splashing about in two-year old Aisha's tiny little splash pool.

Believe it or not, that kept them busy for the entire afternoon.

We had a little lunch picnic in the back garden. Since Mo was not home, my healthy eating regime could be enforced unopposed. Lunch consisted of grilled chicken and potatoes, accompanied by a mixed vegetable and summer fruit salad. Had Mo been home, he would have insisted upon additional carbs in the form of garlic bread, rice or a french loaf.

My response to their question, "What's for dessert?" was met with howls of laughter when I told them that I would be serving them an assortment of sliced fruit.

Later after they had all bathed, there were still complaints about the heat. Since I had expressly forbidden them from re-entering Aisha's little splash pool, I should not have been surprised when I found them splashing about in the pond/water feature in the front garden.

Now at 20:20 in the evening, after having reached a negotiated settlement- they are once again being allowed to play in Aisha's splash pool (despite my earlier prohibition)- but are only allowed to wet their feet. The negotiations had started with them proposing the waist-high submergence of their bodies in the water, so with the finally-agreed-upon foot-wetting, I'd say I had fared pretty well in the negotiations, wouldn't you?

Week one survived- yay!!!

Miraculously we've managed to get through the first few days of the holidays relatively unscathed.


On Tuesday, I held a brief family meeting, outlining my expectations of them- to be met before I came out of my room in the mornings (since they get up at an ungodly hour every morning). The list included:
- brushing teeth and hair; and general grooming
- getting dressed
- tidying the rooms in which they spent time
- packing the breakfast dishes into the dishwasher
- sitting with their Arabic studies, with the older sibling helping the younger. I test each one on their daily lesson later on in the day.

But very often it is the sound of shouting and arguing accompanied by shrieks of pain that brings me running out of the room just in time to break up an argument or brawl. The disagreements usually emanate from the division of labour- with each one believing that he/she is being unfairly burdened by doing the bulk of the work.

"Why do I have to do EVERYTHING?!!" moans Shakeel after having picked up just three of his clothing items off the carpet in his room. "Can you see, Mommy? Tharaa's just sitting there- DOING ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!!!"

"I'm not doing nothing!" she shouts angrily. "I'm picking up the toys from under the bed." And then under her breath (but still hoping that he will hear) she mutters, "Stupid dumbass."

Which is when I am forced to step in.

Reluctantly. It's freakin' morning. I haven't even had my cup of coffee yet and I now I have to become creative, which is what meting out punishment to three perpetrators with very different personalities usually requires. Firstly, I have to figure out what currency I have, i.o.w. what is the item/activity which means enough to her so that, if deprived of it, she will feel really crappy.

With Shakeel, that decision is easy. Take away his Playstation and he's devastated. Deprive him of a visit to his friends and it's as if you are depriving him of life-giving oxygen.

With Tharaa it's far more complicated. No matter what I deprive her of, she just shrugs her shoulders with a nonchalant, "Okay, that's fine," which leaves me feeling frustrated for not having selected the correct currency to deal with her. The problem is that either there is very little about which she feels passionately OR she is really shrewd and she hides how much she really likes something to ensure that it never gets taken away from her as punishment.

So it's early morning and I'm already being faced with such a difficult decision (namely, what can Tharaa's punishment be). Which is when I decide that this is all B.S.- my parents didn't have to face such dilemmas- one klap (smack) and it had all been taken care of.

But since I'm not too certain about the legal ramifications of giving your child a klap under our new dispensation, I'll just say that I went 'old school' on her butt- and leave it at that.

They usually don't stay angry at one another for too long. Because soon after they're done tormenting each other,  they start to torment me.

"Where are we going today? Are we staying home all day? Take us to McDonalds!"

On Wednesday I reluctantly took them to McDonalds. 'Reluctantly' because I'm the mum who usually moans about healthy eating and reduces my kids to tears by dishing vegetables onto their plates with each meal.

But I could no longer fight them, so off we went to the land of processed meat and fried foods. To appease my conscience I spent the entire meal nagging at them about how unhealthy the food was that I was being forced to feed them. Hopefully they did not listen to me or take me seriously (as is usually the case)- or I could possibly become the main topic of future therapy sessions.

We are off to a picnic in Greenpoint Park later today. The kids have been bouncing off the walls with excitement since 7:00 am.

Urgh, I have to go- I think I hear a fight breaking out over whose turn it is to tidy away the shoes.

Of superheroes and fairy princesses

Yesterday was day 1 of the month long holiday (not counting the past weekend). Much to my surprise, the day progressed rather pleasantly.


This undoubtedly had much to do with the fact that two of their cousins, Zarina (6) and Amaara (4) had come to spend the day. The two darlings had arrived, dressed as fairy princesses, which pretty much set the tone for the morning.

My daughters love dressing up in princess dresses. The problem is that they don't distinguish between occasions which call for princess dresses (such as parties) and those that do not (like a trip to Pick 'n Pay or the butchery).

About a year ago we spent a Sunday afternoon in Canal Walk mall, doing shopping and running other errands. Nuha, as was quite usual at the time, was wearing a princess dress and tiara. A little girl looking confused, asked her mum, "Mommy, why is that girl dressed like that? Is she a princess?".

"No dear , she probably just came from a costume party, isn't that so?" the mum replied, directing the question at me.

"Yes, she did, " I lied, nodding as I tried to appear convincing and hoping that Nuha wouldn't speak up and expose my lie. I know it was silly to lie, but that response had just seemed more normal than
"No, she dresses in a princess frock, with tiara and princess jewellery whenever we leave home."

But not only do the girls enjoy dressing in costume. Shakeel, at age 12, still runs around in his Superman costume (which includes his cape); jumping from the filing cabinet onto the bed, pretending to be a superhero.

So it was perfectly natural that, once the cousins arrived in costume, my kids would throw on their slightly-worn-due-to-overuse costumes.

The morning was one of princesses, fairies and superheroes; of magical spells and gallant heroism.

Although part of the afternoon they spent playing Playstation, the bulk of their remaining time together was spent building an imaginary vehicle (a car?) using all my sofa cushions. By this time I had stopped nagging them to tidy up after themselves; and had just resigned myself to the fact that that the house would remain a pigsty until bedtime.

(Please excuse the very poor picture quality)

After the cousins had been bidden farewell, I was under the mistaken impression that my lot would calm down and perhaps just go and read or draw quietly. But I should have known better, especially when Nuha quietly slipped into the kitchen to collect three colourful plastic cups. By the time I realised that they were up to no good, not only were they soaking wet, but the washing hanging on the line was too!

But I forgave them when I heard the excited giggles- and besides they were keeping clingy Aisha (2) busy so that I could get supper done.

All in all, the first day of the holiday had not been as traumatic (for me) as I'd thought it would be.