A period of terror and joy - and an interesting case study

Yesterday morning I arose with butterflies in my stomach. As usual I tiptoed about the room, choosing my clothes for the day - so cautiously, so stealthily and so fearfully; as if afraid to awaken a sleeping bear.

But there was no bear. Oh no, this was so much worse. So much more terrifying. The sound of its shallow even breathing alone was enough to turn my insides to jelly. My shaky hands lifted my shirt off the dressing table - I froze with dread as one of its buttons knocked gently against the dressing table surface. I fought back tears of relief - there was no movement.

And then, suddenly -from a dark corner of the room, I heard it. My pulse quickened. It couldn't be. Again - movement. I prayed silently, '' Please let it be my imagination!''

Then - silence. My prayers answered. Or so I'd thought...

''Mommeeeee!'' came the voice. Two hours earlier than her (two-year old Aisha's) usual waking-up time. Guaranteeing her exhaustion and hence, a day of tantrums and ill-temper.

''Hello, my darling!'' I said, a cheerful smile plastered to my face. Only the beads of perspiration on my brow revealed my inner terror.

She stared at me for an unbearable few seconds. Time slowed to a torturous pace. I waited, not knowing what the mood would be. Hoping. Praying.

She smiled. Again, tears of relief. Short-lived relief.

''I want my panty and my 'going clothes'. (She sleeps in a nappy, but wears a panty during the day. Her 'going clothes' are her day clothes, i.e. not her pyjamas - her clothes for going places).
''Okay, darling, '' I said, a bit too cheerfully.

I did as commanded and returned the items to her bed. (She will not get up until I've dressed and changed her).

My hand brushed her tummy. She giggled. My heart filled with hope. I touched her tummy again. This time - laughter.

Then, becoming braver, I leaned down, pretending to chew her tummy with my lips.
The laughter stopped. But no anger followed. Just, it seemed, disappointment at me having ruined the game.

''Mommy, be sensible,'' was her vexed rebuke.

''Er, excuse me?'' I asked, not sure if I'd heard correctly.

''Please be sensible,'' she repeated.

And so began another day of ill-tempered tantrums and tirades, interspersed though, with delightful laughter and ongoing surprises at all she is learning. Her broadening vocabulary never ceases to amaze me, especially as she throws my words back at me (as shown above). Her clever comments have me dumbfounded and excited. The loving way in which she comes to hug me and plants kisses all over my face, melts my heart - even when, after allowing me to plant a few kisses on her chubby cheeks, she will abruptly pull away, saying, ''That's enough,'' and then walk off.

So, do I wish this tantrum phase would pass? Do I wish that I could fast forward to an easier time ahead? Surprisingly not. Because along with all the tantrums, she also provides us with so much joy. So much surprise. I cannot tell you how often I just observe her with wonder - the way she reasons, the things she says, the jokes she makes. Her ability to comprehend; to express herself. Her vocabulary. Her clever humour.

But mostly her loving nature. I will miss the way she lies next to me at night, touching my face. How she'll throw her arms around me, saying ''I love you''. How, out of nowhere, she'll say ''Thank you Allah (God) for my mommy and my daddy and my brother and my sisters''.

So yes, I shall spend the next few months suffering her tantrums and tirades, but - at the same time, I am so thankful that I am able to experience every moment, pleasant and unpleasant, with her. I wish there was a way to capture every moment of awe and wonder which she brings to our lives. And I definitely don't wish that this time would pass faster.


Camouflaged as a harmless little girl:

 

　
Before the event triggering the transformation (No one knows what could trigger this event - this phenomenon is still subject to much research - conducted by her cautious, yet diligent siblings)

And - a few minutes later:

But the transformation has also been known to work in reverse

Before:

Utterly spent from a tantrum, she refuses to get up onto the seat and falls asleep on the floor of the car

 And - a mere half hour later

 

  Fascinating stuff.

Wanted to have a bit of a moan, but on second thought....

As a reader of this blog, you will have noticed that I am all about gratitude, living in the moment and appreciating the here and now. I even changed my blog name to reflect the savouring and appreciation of the moment.

That having been said, I have to admit - I don't think I can handle this cold weather for one more minute. I just don't think I'm built for it. On days that other people are wearing flimsy T-shirts, I need a jersey. So just try to imagine how I'm feeling today - it's a mere 15 degrees Celsius. Whether outside or indoors, I experience no relief from the cold. I've been sipping on green tea and coffee all morning - I'm shaking from what I assume is a combination of caffeine and coldness.

I go to bed wearing 3 long-sleeved tops underneath the thickest pyjamas I can find in my cupboard. Very sexy. (I guess I can take a break from contraception this winter).

I know I shouldn't be such a baby - there are people living very nearby - in poorly constructed shacks. I do think about them all the time - if I'm feeling like this, I just cannot imagine how they are able to tolerate the cold.

Which again brings me to - gratitude. I started this post just wanting to have a moan, but now I realise I really really shouldn't - I have way too much for which I can be grateful.

In fact I think it would be a good idea to head off to Pep Stores some time to find out the price of blankets. I'm certain it will help them - even just a bit. It is heartbreaking to think about all the kids who are forced to live in those flimsy structures, which provide very little protection from the elements.

So I guess it's time to man up, stop being such a wuss and start walking the walk.

A contemplative 39th

39. My last birthday as a thirty-something. Embarrassingly - and very unexpectedly - I awoke feeling really sad.

Not for the obvious ''What do I have to show for my 39 years?'' or ''I haven't accomplished what I'd set out to'' - having four kids truly makes me feel more blessed than I'd ever thought possible. My sadness seems to be rooted in a deep nostalgia - a grieving that the past has passed, never to return. Despite my awareness and belief that there is still so much to be experienced.

My sadness is making me feel guilty. Ungrateful. At least I've made it thus far. So many people, who had been my age, didn't - Faghmi Smith, Gary May, Gadija Abbas etc.

I think back to my 20s. A period in my life when stupidity ruled the day; when bad decisions were made, the wrong people trusted. Yet, a time still filled with so much hope and (often misplaced) faith in others. Intense emotions - a spillover from my delayed adolescence. Happiness. Sadness. Hope. So much hope.

From my 20s to my mid-30s - wasting so much time thinking about what I should have done, could have done - instead of seizing the day there and then. Spending too much time caring about what others were thinking of me, saying about me - instead of spending every precious second savouring, capturing and revelling in my time with my babies. Moments lost - never to be retrieved.

My mid-30s - a HUGE epiphany. An ugly, rude awakening - resulting in a spiritual and emotional journey which taught me to survive grief and sadness by taking the time to appreciate, to savour and to enjoy every blessing granted by the Almighty.

Blessings comprised of the little things - thoughtfulness on the part of Mo, an unexpected hug and kiss from the Shakeel (13) a heartwarming note of love and appreciation from Tharaa (10), a goodbye/ hello kiss from Nuha (7) during which she has to be pried away from me or giggles and kisses from Aisha (2).

Craziness on the part of the kids - like this morning when I stood in the driveway to see them off, the car doors were simultaneously flung open, as the occupants leaned out and delivered a loud (and rather drunken-sounding) rendition of ''Happy Birthday to you''. Or Shakeel's birthday card in which he pasted pictures of my family and loved ones - of Mo posing beardlessly, of him (Shakeel) holding a newborn Aisha, of Tharaa pulling a funny face, of Nuha smiling sweetly - and of Michael Jackson doing a signature Michael Jackson pose. They really know how to make me smile.

Already I'm feeling better and more contented. (Making sense of one's emotions by writing them down is one of the benefits of blogging). Not even a grumpy Aisha yelling and screaming, ''It's MY birthday, not mommy's!'' will disturb my peace of mind or minimise my gratitude for my 39 years of blessings.

　

Shakeel injured; kids traumatised - once again the victims of crime

It was expected to be a wonderful night. In fact, it had started out that way. On Friday night Mo, the four kids and I decided to take the kids' two grandmothers out for supper - Mo's mum and mine.

Not even the uncharacteristically leathery unchewable meat at our favourite curry joint could dampen the spirits. The kids were bursting with excitement to have both their grannies with them - while the grannies themselves took turns whispering to each other and giggling like naughty school girls (many of the jokes causing Mo and me to cringe while pretending not to hear).

Mo decided to drop my mum off first - she lives the furthest away and he felt it preferable to drop his mum off on the way back home.

After saying our goodbyes we headed toward Strandfontein Road, as it was the quickest route to Mo's mum's house. We had just turned into that road when we heard a deafening bang, which sounded exactly like a gunshot.

We knew that something had hit the car - we just did not know what.

''Everybody duck down! Duck!'' Mo yelled. At that point we had been convinced that a shot had been fired and that the car had been hit. A few seconds later an even louder, more terrifying bang could be heard - followed by shattering glass. The kids screamed hysterically - my blood ran cold as I heard Shakeel (13) whimper. He had been lying sleeping in the back corner of our mini-van (which has 3 rows of seats - he had lain in the left had corner of the 3rd row).

''My back,'' he groaned. ''My back hurts''. He climbed forward to the second row, where Mo's mum inspected his back. There was no blood - it seemed as if the pain was being caused by the miniscule fragments of glass which had penetrated his back. Mo got out to inspect the cause of the incident. By that time there was no-one in the bushy grass alongside the road.

Tharaa (10), who had been sitting on the other side of the back row, sat picking pieces of glass out of her hair. Both she and Shakeel were understandably shaken up and therefore opted to climb into the second row and sqeeze into the available space.

The kids were terrified; feeling insecure and anxious. Mo's mum tried to lighten the mood by informing them of how sweet Aisha (2) had been immediately after the incident when, filled with concern, she had asked, '' Tharaa, are you okay?''

But the kids remained afraid. Mo was quiet - I knew that he was furious. I understood the fury one feels when one is a victim of a crime.

It appears that someone had hurled a rock against the window, which was the first bang we heard. This only managed to crack the window- possibly because of the tint we had put on all the windows last month to protect the kids from the sun. The second bang we heard had been the result of a brick which had then been hurled against the same cracked window (possibly by a second person). Mo found this brick in the car. It had caused the window to fall out - it seemed as if the pieces of glass were being held together by the tint.

Mo even found pieces of glass in Aisha's baby car-seat, which means that the glass had flown into the the second row of seats (behind the driver's seat) on the opposite side of the car. Yesterday he found more glass behind the steering wheel just under the speedometer! Shakeel is also still bruised, as the part of the brick had hit him on his back.

The kids were visibly rattled. I ranted and raved about leaving the country. I insisted that Mo check the Skilled Occupations List of Australia - I wanted to move as soon as possible. I looked over at my kids who were all sitting huddled together under a blanket on the sofa. And then I realised that we were incredibly incredibly lucky. Alhamdulillah (Praise be to God).

I went to sit by them. They told me that they were afraid. I calmly told them that we had been protected. If God had intended for us to be injured, it would have been so. How fortunate we were - firstly, the tint, (which we had only put on a month ago) drastically minimised the impact of the brick once it hit the window. Secondly, despite Tharaa's attempts to awaken Shakeel, he continued to sleep like a rock - seat reclined with his back facing the window. If he had been sitting in his usual upright position, he would most certainly have been hit in the face.

　

I shudder to think of how close we had come to a really awful situation. If the window had not been tinted and Shakeel had been sitting in his normal position - I shudder to think what the force of that brick entering the untinted window would have done to his face. The tiny fragments of glass we were picking out of his back could very well have been in his eyes.

الحمد لله والشكر لله (All praise and thanks be to God).

I have had moments of anger at the perpetrators - especially when I see how shaken up my kids are. I do believe that what goes around comes around. I'm not wishing ill on anyone, but I do believe in Divine justice. But I don't ponder upon those feelings for too long; doing so would detract from my gratitude - at having being blessed and protected.
 

Finding the silver lining

Aisha (2) has a viral infection - which is making her even grumpier than usual.

She has a fever, a slight phlegmy cough, congested nose - and yesterday had diarrhoea while Mo and I were in the middle of our scheduled parent-teacher meeting with Nuha (7)'s teacher. Needless to say, within seconds we had swept Aisha out of the classroom mid-meeting with promises to keep in touch with the teacher - the odour of slightly sour poo trailing behind us (Thank goodness that was all that was trailing behind us).

We changed her nappy with her standing next to the car on the pavement in front of the school.

At the doctor's surgery she was uncharacteristically charming. (Okay, to be fair, she is really sweet and funny when she's in a good mood). She smiled at the doctor, obeyed instructions to open and say 'aaah' and breathed deeply when told to do so. I couldn't believe she was the same child who'd been ordering me about the whole day.

Ordering me about is what she does lately. Impatiently. Grumpily. But for a while now, I'd stopped yielding to her demands. This means more tantrums. Long exhausting tantrums which continue until she is hoarse. I remember Nuha being like this as a toddler. I keep wondering if that is the reason for her raspy voice. Aisha, too is developing a husky voice, which I swear is a result of her constant shrieking which continues until her voice is gone.

Every morning she orders me to take off my rather ugly spectacles, with a disgusted, '' 'Pecs off mommy! 'pecs off now!''
Her other irritant is my tendency to tuck my hair in the back of my pyjama top to keep it out of my way. ''Hair out!'' she'll order.
Since I used to comply (or even pre-empt and then address her annoyances before she raised them), she had become quite accustomed to getting her way.

Recently she has added to her list of demands. Yesterday, as I was getting ready to pray, she insisted that I take off my prayer clothes. She didn't want me to pray, as it would take my attention off from her.

Later she cried when I slipped on my warm fluffy winter gown, insisting that I put on other clothes (which she regarded as being prettier). This applies to any other clothes which she regards as being unattractive.

Half glasses of milk I pour her are shoved back at me with an instruction to replace it with ''Big milk'' (meaning a full glass, which I know she will never finish). The same applies to half slices of bread, half of apples etc etc.

This morning, after realising that I had taken off my spectacles to placate her, she insisted that I take out my contact lenses too. At which point, I just walked away laughing - the child had clearly lost her mind.

She had awoken before the other kids left for school (which never happens). To prevent her from crying after them I told her we could accompany Mo when he dropped them off - he could then bring us back home before dashing off to work. She refused the offer, insisting that she wanted to stay home and wave goodbye from the porch. They had just backed out of the driveway when (as I'd expected she would) she started to scream. I locked the gate out front (to ensure her safety)and came inside - leaving her to torment the neighbourhood the way she does me.

I sat down (watching her) with a cup of tea trying to salvage the remaining shreds of my rapidly dwindling sanity. I nibbled on a peanut butter and fig jam sandwich (fig jam for the much needed, stress-beating soothing sweetness). She cried, made demands and screamed. I sat staring at her numbly.

And then she stopped.

Exhausted she waddled over to me, climbed onto my lap and lifted my top. Boobies save the day, once again. Still latched she looked up at me - and smiled. I melted - just a bit.  I was still furious at her for having had such an impact on me. She smiled again. Broadly - nipple still in mouth.

I melted. Completely.

Feelings of love, protectiveness and sadness wash over me. I wish I could make her happy. I wish I knew what to do to to prevent her from feeling the frustration and unhappiness she so obviously experiences during her tirades. I wish I could strike the balance - making her happy without spoiling her. I wish I knew which battles to pick so that we don't spend the entire day at war.

Though I must admit, having her so grumpy these days has made her happy moments so much sweeter. I appreciate and savour every little smile, joke or giggle which I'd ordinarily just take for granted. And I'm grateful that although she is going through a difficult time right now, she is healthy (Alhamdulillah!!!) and generally a really clever, happy girl with a remarkable sense of humour.

I love and appreciate the complicated little girl that she is.

My sincere prayer for this morning- please give me a day of smiles and cuteness; and not tirades and hissy-fits

A few months ago, you might remember my struggle with two year old Aisha's tantrums. They terrified me. Then, as suddenly as they'd appeared, they stopped. Foolishly, I did not take a moment to appreciate the respite - I just took it for granted.

For another few months she was an absolute delight. On so many occasions I remembered wishing that I could freeze the moment - or at least remember how cute she was being, the hilarious comments she passed in her delightful innocence or the adorable expressions on her face. Priceless; never-to-be-repeated moments. Oh, it was a wonderful time - but sadly, I remember very few of its details.

I don't know why I did not think to record these important little details - the way I had recorded the details of her tantrums which had gone before. I guess that's the price I'm paying for not taking the time to smell the roses.

Yes, our tantrums are back - with a vengence. I'm on egg-shells all the time. I'm not sure if it has something to do with the fact that she may be teething - her last four molars seem to be ready to make their appearance. But it could take months.

But last night she delighted us with a glimpse into her delightful nature for a few minutes - dancing to the tunes of her sisters' High School Musical DVD. It reminded me of how, in those glorious months not too long ago, she used to shuffle to the ''Party Rock Anthem''. (I might upload a video I took of her and her sisters - once I replenish my rapidly diminishing data bundle at the end of  the month). It was so cute and hilarious.

I remember how she had certain 'phrases' or sentences which she had just enjoyed saying. I know she knew the meaning thereof, because I had heard her use them in context before, but it was as if she just awoke one morning and decided that she'd insert them into every conversation - whether applicable and relevant, or not. I later realised that she was imitating all her older siblings' lines and mannerisms.

So our conversations had become really bizarre.

Me: Aisha, would you like some toast or porridge?

Aisha: I know!! (rolling her eyes with mock exasperation)

Me: Huh?


or

Me: Aisha, what are you watching?

Aisha: I caaan't! I don't know hoooow! (throwing up her hands in fake frustration)

Ookay then.

or

Me: Oh, I'm so hungry.


Aisha: But whyyyyy?! Whyyyy?! (gesturing dramatically)

But although her conversations often left me confused, sometimes they warmed my heart - as what she said was very appropriate. She and my mum were lazing on a rock at our usual river spot one day, when she took my mum's face in her hands and said, ''So cuuuuute!!!''

Another time I was ranting and raving while looking for the TV remote.
''Why do you guys have to play with the remote? Can't you just leave it on one spot? Why do I have to look for it EVERY SINGLE TIME I want to change the channel. (Which incidentally I could have done ten times as I was walking past the TV to look for the remote). But annoyance replaced reason, as I moaned and groaned; ranted and raved.
''This is ridiculous! This happens every time!!''
Just then Aisha sighed a loud dramatic sigh, '' Mommy, but I yuv you!''
Thereby placing my stupid tantrum in context by showing me what really counts.

Not too long ago it was Mo's turn. The kids had been bickering more than usual and it was clearly working on his last nerve. So as an argument ensued at the table (probably about whether Tharaa had secretly dropped her broccoli into Shakeel's plate), Mo just snapped.
''This is ridiculous! If you keep this up, I shall !"£$% each one of you. I'm getting sick of this ^&*(''

His eyes bulged as he yelled and screamed. Everyone looked down at their half-eaten food - afraid to make eye contact with him. He continued for a few minutes; threatening and venting.
When Aisha shook her head and giggled, ''Daddy, you cwazy'' - thereby echoing the thoughts of everyone at the table. Everyone (including crazy daddy) burst into fits of laughter.
What would we do without our disarming little darling?

So, as I wait for her to awaken this morning, I say a silent prayer that her mood will be pleasant. I have already put in my contact lenses, since the first thing that sets her off in the mornings is seeing me with my (rather ugly) spectacles.
''  'Pecs off!'' she'll yell angrily.
I have also brushed my hair and let it hang down over my shoulders. Many a tantrum has started because of my annoying tendency to twist my hair into a bun or tuck it down the back of my pyjama top (to keep it out of my way).

So I eliminate all potential annoyances ('pecs off - check; hair hanging down - check) and start my silent prayer that she'll wake up happy, and hopefully  return to being the little angel she was a few months ago - I promise to savour each second this time around.

I feel good!

I really enjoyed today. No, I didn't do anything spectacular; I didn't win anything, nor did I go anywhere exotic.

Today was one of the very few days during which I did not have to make an effort to feel good. Today it was easy.

Everything lined up to make this day really lovely. My wonderful friend, who is visiting from abroad, popped in with her cute, adorable and friendly baby. I didn't realise how much I missed her until she was here. And then I didn't want her to leave.

I had long since resigned myself to the fact that I don't really have close female friends any longer. My close friendships have waned over the years. It happened gradually and, since life had become so busy, I hadn't really noticed. Until today, that is.

Talking to a friend, laughing, grumbling and supporting - oh how I missed that! Not to have to carry the weight of my concerns and worries inside - bottled up. To be able to share, unburden - the relief of having a sympathetic ear. Someone who understands.

How I missed the relief and lifted spirits caused by laughter (even at our own self-deprecating humour).

I was really sad when she left. I cannot wait for her next visit to SA.

As the day progressed, I started to feel lethargic and physically tired. Fortunately I resisted the temptation to bunk gym. Our routine is still quite unsettled, since we have had so many other commitments during this week. More importantly, on the two other occasions we went to gym (since joining two weeks ago), our main concern has been that two year old Aisha and Nuha (7) would refuse to go to the childcare centre at the gym. To my surprise Aisha happily waddled off toward the toys once we dropped her there, which was a HUGE relief.

Since we are still incredibly unfit, we have limited our workouts to an intense 30 minutes. I spent 10 minutes on the stepping machine, bicycle and treadmill respectively. I really pushed myself on the treadmill- starting off by running (trying to keep up with the super-fit hot babe next to me) for five minutes, after which I adjusted the setting to a steep incline, which I tackled for another five minutes.

Shakeel (12) and Tharaa (10) cycled, stepped and rowed. As with everything else he does, Shakeel really pushed himself, as he is always trying to outdo himself. Tharaa, on the other hand, just kept going because she just loves to be active.

I was so happy when Nuha later informed us that she and Aisha had really enjoyed their stay at the childcare centre. Hopefully this means that we can visit the gym more regularly - without having to worry about whether the younger two are okay.

I left the gym feeling energised and happy.

Normally, at the end of a day, I cannot help the negative thoughts which may creep into my mind - like unpleasant events of the day or anything about which I may be feeling anxious.

But not tonight. I'm not sure about the cause of the positive energy pervading my mind and body. 

I'm just really grateful for the contentment I'm feeling tonight.

Saving myself from the edge of despair - my new life philosophy is tested

A few days ago I wrote a post on how I combat sadness, anxiety and mild depression by focusing on all my blessings and everything for which I can be grateful.

Who would have thought I'd be putting my new life philosophy to the test within the following few days of writing that?

Over the weekend I had a really negative experience involving another person. Since I am a people-pleaser who cares way to much about what other people think of me, this encounter left me devastated. Shock became sadness, which then started to turn into depression - when, fortunately, the iota of rationality I had functioning within me at the time, acted as my lifeline.

I thought about the abovementioned post and how, theoretically, I should be placing this negative encounter in perspective by just looking around me and appreciating my blessings. Filled with overpoweringly negative emotions, I found this exercise to be quite challenging.

On a congnitive level I knew that I had a plethora of blessings surrounding me at that very moment. But the depth of my sadness was such that I really battled to appreciate them on an emotional level.

Fortunately I persisted - looking around at my kids, hubby, our home. Why was I letting someone who was completely insignificant in my life blind me to what I have?

My kids have been giving me so much of which to be proud - it is formal assessment time once again and I have had very few problems with getting them to study. The feedback which I received on the papers they have written, has been really positive. Mo has had to work less, since his project has been completed, so is around more to help with the kids. We joined the local gym, which I have wanted to do for ages. More importantly, everyone is healthy and getting along relatively well. We have a roof over our heads - this may seem like I am grasping at straws to find things for which to be grateful, but it is always present in my mind, since we live very near to a tiny squatter camp, which we drive past almost every day.

On Sunday night after our usual prayer meeting (which helped somewhat), we drove past this squatter camp. There were people (including kids) sitting around a fire - which is their only source of heat at night. I'd witnessed this sight so many times before, but in the state in which I found myself that night, this sight brought tears to my eyes. I was fortunate. I was really really fortunate. There, but for the grace of God, go I.

I got home and we sat down to the last of our daily prayers, during which - I am ashamed to say - my mind often wanders. But after witnessing those people trying to glean every bit of warmth from that little fire, my heightened emotions caused me to be more present and focused in my prayer than I had been in a while. All my efforts (throughout the day) at repeating and trying to truly appreciate my blessings were rewarded. My skin tingled and I had to fight back tears - so overcome I was with gratitude at what I had right before me - surrounding me.

The person, who had caused me such sadness, faded into insignificance. Everything that mattered in my life, was right there.

Although I awoke on Monday morning with a pit in my stomach, just from the memory of the interaction with that person, that feeling didn't remain. I felt lighter and less burdened by sadness. The overwhelming appreciation of everything, with which God has blessed me, was strong enough to wash away all remnants of the awful feelings, which had pervaded my soul.

Admittedly, within the last day, there have been moments when I'd experience momentary lapses into sadness, but these were not strong enough to make me lose perspective.

For now, I am just enjoying my much-too-fragile state of peace and contentment.

Choosing to live a life of gratitude

It was one day, while suffering from a acute gastroenteritis, that I lay on my bed moaning and groaning. I had been experiencing the pain and discomfort for almost two days and had had enough. I just wanted it to end. I wanted to feel normal again.

I vowed that I would never take feeling healthy and normal for granted again. I thought about how one only becomes aware of the functioning of one’s body when something goes wrong – or when in pain. I had never woken up before and just taken the time to appreciate the fact that I was experiencing no pain. I hadn’t ever awoken thinking, ‘’Hmm, today I’m so grateful that my leg isn’t paining’’ or ‘’wow, my stomach is feeling really normal today’’.

After feeling so awful that day, I undertook never to take feeling normal for granted again.

It is however so easy to take our blessings for granted. There are times when life becomes so overwhelming, that I tend to focus only on my challenges and obstacles. I am, by nature, a glass-half-empty type of person, so it is very easy for me to get sucked into a state of sadness and depression. I’ve come to realise that this happens when I lose sight of the little things with which I have been blessed.

Admittedly, at times life seems to throw one curve ball after another. I sometimes find myself so overwhelmed by duties, challenges and obstacles. Unfortunately, I even absorb other people’s problems and stress about these as if they are my own. I am also easily affected by other people’s negativity.

So for me, drawing myself out of this state of despair only becomes possible when I take the time to appreciate the good things in my life. Granted, there are days that it feels as if I am really grasping at straws to find the good things in my life. On days like these (when it seems as if blessings are few), my ‘ list of things for which to be grateful’ will include things like ‘today, there was no tsunami/hurricane/other natural disaster’.

I’ve had days where the kids are difficult – when they are constantly bickering, arguing and screaming at one another. Their voices start to grate on my nerves. And that is when I take the time to contemplate or imagine the loss of one of those voices from that rowdy chorus – if one of them should not be there for any reason – that possibility is just too awful to contemplate for too long. But it is enough to adjust my mindset. It forces me to move from regarding their bickering voices as the most awful annoyance - to regarding each and every voice with the utmost gratitude.

We so easily tell our complaining kids to be grateful for their food since there are so many starving children in the world. But do we ever really sit down and truly attempt to appreciate what it is to walk in the shoes of those with overwhelming challenges?

One evening during Ramadaan last year, Shakeel (12) and I had a little discussion just before it was time to break our fast. We thought about how hungry we were after not having eaten for about 14 hours. We tried to imagine having to go another 14 hours without anything to eat - the way so many children around the world are forced to do. It was only when taking the time to truly appreciate the extent of those children’s hunger and suffering that we could truly appreciate every morsel of food we consumed that night.

How easy it is to overlook everything with which we have been blessed! On a difficult day I sit in my tiny garden and take time out to appreciate each of my senses.
* That I can watch my toddler squish her chubby toes into the wet grass*
*That amidst the chirping of the birds I am able to hear her squeals of glee*
*That I can enjoy the fragrance of the flowers and herbs*
*The ability to enjoy the delicious warmth of the sun on my skin*

‘’After hardship comes relief’’ I was taught. It is through having to face the hardship and challenges that my appreciation of the ‘times of relief’ are enhanced. Like experiencing the ease from the pain and discomfort of a long pregnancy after the baby is born – when I was pregnant with 2 year old Aisha, I always joked that I would make a point of noting and appreciating the moment my nausea subsided and the awful metallic taste in my mouth disappeared (which happened immediately after baby's birth). And I did – what a wonderful feeling to be able to appreciate that relief! It even distracted me from the after-birth pangs and sore nipples.

I think about the times my hubby decides to abide by Eskom’s request for everyone to switch off their geysers – and how, when he forgets to switch it back on, I have ended up taking torturous cold showers (swearing at him under my breath all the while). How wonderful is it then to experience the next warm shower. It is only then that I really take the time to appreciate little conveniences like the fact that we have warm water, while so many people do not even have access to running water.

Sometimes when I look at pictures of myself taken twenty years ago, I am struck by how I’ve changed. I now am developing age spots and laugh lines, which – I am ashamed to say - scares me. But after much contemplation, I have come to view each mark, scar and line as my badges of honour- a testament to a life well-lived. Dr Phil, in his typical to-the-point and no-nonsense Dr Phil style, pointed out to a woman who was afraid of the ageing process that although the process of ageing is scary, it is better than the alternative (i.e. not having the privilege of growing older). So true! As a result I now wear my stretch marks and laugh lines with pride – and gratitude.

As South Africans we always tend to focus on the negatives about living in our country. Yes, we are still faced with major challenges as a country, but how can we possibly ignore how far we’ve come since the dark days of apartheid? How can we ignore the progress we’ve made? In addition, we also have been endowed with undeniable natural blessings, which are so easy to take for granted. It is only when we read about natural disasters in other parts of the world that we take the time to appreciate that South Africa does not really experience any major natural disasters. We enjoy sweltering summers (which are perfect during which to laze about on our beautiful beaches) and temperate winters.

[Now I’m not suggesting that we should, in our gratitude, turn a blind eye to the faults of our Government. Yes, there is work to be done and changes need to be effected. But we cannot deny how fortunate we are that our strong democracy, which promotes civil society participation in the legislative process, allows for us to participate in initiating, promoting and fostering the necessary changes].

In fact I'm not suggesting that we become complacent about any situation in which we may be unhappy. But when I find myself in a situation which I am unable to change or improve at that moment, I pause - and take the time to count my blessings - to prevent myself from becoming overwhelmed by despair, sadness or hopelessness.

And I remember that there is always someone worse off than what I am.