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.

The million dollar question

Yesterday Nuha (7) voiced what had been bothering her since the incident on Friday night (when our car window had been smashed in while we were driving, injuring Shakeel (13) ).... (described here)

‘’Mommy, can I ask you a question?’’ she asked.

‘’Of course,’’ I answered, expecting her to ask for some assurance that the incident would never recur.

‘’What happened to the duck?’’ she asked.

I was confused. ‘’I don’t know what you are talking about, sweetie,’’ I responded. 

‘’The duck that hit the car. Remember, when we heard the loud bang, daddy shouted ‘’Everyone duck! Duck!’’ Did they ever find the duck that hit the car?’’

Thank goodness she saved that question for me and not for her older siblings, who would have mocked her cruelly and incessantly.

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.

Turfs or Barney- the impossible choice

Two year old Aisha has developed a liking to the Smurfs. No, they have not ousted Barney- not by a long shot. But she now will occasionally ask to watch 'Turfs' as well.


Cleverly, I got her to associate the one TV with watching Barney and the other with watching Smurfs. In this way there would always be a free TV for someone else to watch, since she couldn't possibly dominate 2 TV's simultaneously.

Or so I'd thought.

Yesterday she insisted that she wanted Smurfs to play on the one TV and Barney on the other. Sometimes she ran from one room to the other- most of the time she wasn't even paying attention to either; she just wanted to know that if she felt like watching either one, she would just have to step into whichever room it was playing.

This carried on for about 45 minutes, when I decided to put my foot down.

Me: "Aisha, you cannot watch 2 TVs. Choose- do you want to watch Smurfs or Barney?"

Aisha: "Turfs AND Barney!!"

Me: "You cannot watch both- it's either Smurfs or Barney. I'm putting one off".

Aisha (raising her voice in protest): Noooo, don't put off Turfs and Barney. Want Turfs and Barney!!"

Me (becoming really impatient): "Aisha, stop being silly!"

Aisha (escalating tantrum voice): "Aisha not silly- I cute!!!"

No arguments here.

Blistering, sweltering, skin-shrivelling heat notwithstanding- I ♥ summer!!!

Whew, but yesterday was hot!!

Which meant that we ended up at our usual river spot. The temperature in that part of the world had soared beyond 38 degrees Celsius.

However, the temperature of the water was- perfect.

The place was uncharacteristically busy, which made our peaceful and tranquil retreat somewhat more vibey. But it didn't matter; we just clamoured further upstream where the water was shallower (no higher than knee-depth) but excitingly flowed more rapidly and forcefully. One's powerlessness against the sheer force of the water was thoroughly exhilarating.

The arrangement of the rocks created mini-rapids and we derived much pleasure and excitement from trying to prevent ourselves from being washed downstream. Mo held 2 year old Aisha at a section where the water was moving slightly less forcefully, but strongly enough to provide a thrilling experience for her as it gushed against her body.

"Oooh I shower!!" she yelled elatedly.

But eventually the excitement became a bit too much so, giggling hysterically, she urged her dad to switch off the tap.

The intense heat meant that one had to remain submerged in the water all the time. Especially in my case since I was wearing my Billabong second-skin type top. Which was black. With long sleeves. (The memory alone makes me perspire).

As usual, I ran after the children- sunscreen bottle in hand- slathering the thick creamy liquid liberally over every exposed part of their bodies. Repeatedly.

"This is my favourite place to swim," one of the kids declared. They then each shouted out their preferences- pools, beaches, rivers.

"What is your favourite place to swim, Mommy?"

Before I could answer, 7 year old Nuha interjected shyly. "Mommy's favourite place FOR US to swim would be a pool filled with sunscreen instead of water. Then she won't have to worry about us being protected from the sun".

How did she know?

As usual, we had an amazing time. Instead of barbequing/braaing (which would most likely have caused Mo to suffer from a heat stroke), we enjoyed a yummy, greasy, artery-clogging KFC family meal.

On the walk back to the car we became drenched with perspiration once again. If only we didn't have to leave!! Ten year old Tharaa and I settled for cooling off by running through the sprinklers instead.

As unbearable as the February heat has been, I still felt sad when I popped in at Woolworths on Saturday and saw all the Autumn/Winter clothes already on display. What were they doing? I'm not ready for winter yet. Despite the uncomfortable heat (and the fact that our car's air-conditioning has been broken since last year) summer is still my happy time. I'm not ready for it to end yet!

Oh well, I suppose that all I need is a mindset change. I need to start thinking about interesting and exciting family time which can be shared in winter.

Right now though, I'm taking Aisha outside to enjoy splashing in the plastic pool. I plan to glean every last second of fun from what's left of our magnificent Cape Town summer.

Nursery rhyme lyrics butchered

Little Jack Horner well-known lyrics
Little Jack Horner
Sat in the corner,
Eating a Christmas pie;
He put in his thumb,
And pulled out a plum,
And said 'What a good boy am I!

Version of Nuha (at the age of 4)
Little Jack Horny (!!!)
Sat in the corny
Eating his crispy pie
He put in his thumb
And pulled out a lung
And said what a good naughty boy am I!

Version of Aisha (aged 2)
Little Jack Horner
Sat in the corner
Eating a plum

Aisha- an attempt to capture this moment in time

Since her birth, two year old Aisha has profoundly affected the family dynamics the way all babies tend to do. Often she dominates dinner times with her cute sayings and tricks, which she loves to perform much to the delight of her older siblings. She is able to diffuse even the most potentially explosive confrontational situation (and not just between the kids) by simply flashing a smile.

However she has also managed to blend and adjust perfectly into the very unique unit made up of her and her siblings. Very often one can hear them all screaming with laughter at jokes that only they could possibly find funny. She will join them in singing all their favourite tunes (and can carry a tune surprisingly well for her age). I could not believe how much of Adele's "Someone like You" she can sing.

Recently she has discovered Michael Jackson, her mommy's hero. Two weeks ago, when Mo and I wanted to watch an episode of our favourite series 'Revenge', we simply plonked her in front of the laptop to watch his Bucharest concert. How clever of us!!!

However, the main love of her life is a dinosaur (something she has in common with her older brother Shakeel)- but in her case the object of her affection is the purple dinosaur Barney, who causes her eyes to sparkle with love and admiration.

I am amazed at how well she is able to carry on a conversation with the rest of us (although much of what she says can only be understood by us). She seems to have an opinion on everything the kids discuss at the dinner table and is as animated as the rest of them when expressing herself . I love how she can imitate Shakeel's teachers (of whom he loves doing impressions) and is even able to capture the subtle nuances of the quirks and accents of these people whom she has never met!

She counts from 1-20 and thanks to the time she has spent at the dojo watching the older kids' karate training, she counts to ten in Japanese too.

But she is absolutely not interested in learning about colours. Though her favourite colour is blue. Not the colour itself, but the word- she uses the word 'blue' to describe anything she desires or likes. So every morning she wakes up insisting on blue porridge (Jungle Oats), after which she wants to watch the blue Barney DVD (Fun on the farm). She insists on sipping her milk or water from her blue cup (a green plastic cup). All very confusing.

Her pronunciation of certain words has outsiders completely stumped. "Mommy, could I please have some toodie", translated "Mommy could I please have foodie".

"Mommy please teed me" translated is "Mommy please feed me"

She is at a very difficult potty training stage- she hates wearing a nappy, but often still forgets to tell us that she has to pee. She has a very special place where she does all her peeing and pooing- on Shakeel's carpet at the foot of his bed. It drives me nuts that she chooses to mess on the only carpet in the house (the rest of the house either has wooden floors or tiles). But I guess it is up to us to ensure that we put her on the toilet more regularly instead of waiting for an accident to happen.

She loves snacking on tomatoes, carrots and boiled egg. However she also loves eating 'clock-it' (chocolate), although this happens seldomly (simply because I do not like sharing my chocolate). She is the only one of my kids who enjoys taking sips of my green tea (yes, yes I know- it contains caffeine, but I really only allow it in moderation)

She refers to our teeny tiny little garden as 'the farm', since she spotted many 'animals' (birds, bees, ants and other bugs) one sunny morning. So every morning she asks to be taken to the farm to water the plants.

I know that she is too old to still be breastfeeding, but she still is completely addicted to her mommy's boobies for comfort. (This is becoming a HUGE problem for me). Very often when she sees me in the shower, she won't rest until I crouch down for a minute or two to provide her with her 'fix'.

She is in such an extremely cute stage that I wish I could somehow capture every bit of it before she moves to the next one. I really wish that I could remember how delightful, amazing and cute my other kids were at this age.

I suppose that the best I can do is to appreciate how wonderful they are right now.

　

　

　

　

　

The return of happiness

It was the much-awaited end of a dark and dreary period. The light at the end of the tunnel. The moment the clouds parted to reveal the glorious sunshine. The relief after hardship.


It was the end of the kids' formal assessments/exams.


The three weeks of formal assessments had been every bit as challenging as I had anticipated, and then some. It had been the very first time I'd had to face final formal assessments with 3 school going kids. And I was not doing well at it.


There was enormous pressure for Shakeel (12) to succeed, since he is facing high school in 2013 and it is important that he tries to get a bursary. Our frustration was that he had, until recently, achieved top marks for most subjects. Recently however, after a girl in his class beat him in one or two subjects, he has just conceded defeat. He will not even try to reclaim his position, and just accepts that he cannot achieve the same level of performance ever again.


His dad and I, out of sheer frustration, decided to provide some motivation for him.  He loves (and I mean really loves) his Playstation. He has wanted a 320 gig Playstation 3 with move for a very long time, so hubby bought it and showed it to him. He would however only get to keep it if he achieves the same level of results as before; otherwise it would be sold. So Shakeel put in immense effort (annoyingly not at all motivated by the prospect of being awarded a much-needed bursary), but in the hope that the Playstation will soon be his to keep. 


The formal assessment period had some weird effect on Tharaa (9). She became more playful than ever and just didn't take my threats, begging or even my punishment seriously. I'd give her questions to answer and find her drawing. Most of my energy went into getting her to focus or just to take the formal assessments seriously. 


Yesterday was particularly stressful, since she wrote her Natural Science paper this morning. I hadn't been in a particularly happy mood to start with, so her jokiness was even more annoying than usual. 


"Focus on your work. You are making me insane. You are going to be sorry!" she sang to the tune of Adele's "Someone like you", enjoying her irritating game of singing all my threats back at me. My head buzzed with four-letter words (while some managed to slip out, much to her amusement). 


Over the past few months (even before these assessments), Shakeel and Tharaa had taken most of my attention and time; the former because the stakes are so high this time and the latter because, well, I think she regards school work as a way to entertain herself at my expense.


In addition Aisha (2) is extremely clingy and does not want to share my attention with the others, which makes it very difficult to work with them. One particularly frustrating afternoon last week, as she  clung to me, I wished she had a little friend to play with. But then I thought, many kids who don't have friends, create them. So I pointed to a corner and said, "See Aisha, see the little girl. She wants to play with you." The poor child shrieked with fear and tried to climb up my leg- it turns out that she has inherited my fear of the unseen. For all I knew, the little girl she had been picturing was the little weirdo from "The Ring".


So, poor Nuha (6)'s homework has been neglected by me for a while now; with her dad doing it at the last minute outside the school gates before signing her homework diary. I had no idea what the poor thing was learning at any given time, as there was just too little time after they came from school in the afternoons. 


Last week she came home saying that I should help her with her spelling words, which she would be tested on in her formal assessments. They were doing the 'sh' and 'th' sounds.


"Spell 'wish'," I said, "as in 'I wish this formal assessment was over".
"W-i-s-h", she spelled out.


"Spell 'gosh' " I instructed.
"OMG," she responded earnestly, surprising me with her knowledge of internet slang (for which I blame Selena Gomez).


So this afternoon, I was ecstatic when they returned from school, signalling the end of the formal assessments. Finally I could breathe again, smile again-after three weeks of blood, sweat and tears.  And just in time to celebrate Tharaa's birthday tomorrow.

Stop teasing your sisters!

It sometimes seems to me that my family is like a microcosm of the school playground. I often notice the playground dynamics at play within our family (changing alliances, loyalties, betrayal,competitiveness, bullying etc).

It is however the issue of teasing that has been driving me nuts recently. Teasing happens according to the family pecking order. Shakeel(12) teases Tharaa (9), who in turn teases Nuhaa(6), who then proceeds to tease the crap out of Aisha (23 months).

Last week Nuhaa came home bursting with excitement. "Mommy, I'm so happy!" she gushed. "We're going on our first excursion. Who can guess where to?" she asked Shakeel and Tharaa. Without waiting for them to answer, she burst out enthusiastically, "We're going to the planetwarium!!!"

Uh oh. I noticed the expressions of cruel delight on the faces of the older two. "You're going where?" asked Shakeel waiting eagerly for her to repeat her blunder. Sensing that she was being set up, she bravely tried to rescue herself from being the butt of a joke, and ventured another guess. "We're going to the planequarium". Poor thing. Their howls of laughter continued until Shakeel noticed how much fun Tharaa was having at his little sister's expense, which then
caused his protective instinct to kick in.

"What are you laughing at?" he redirected his attack. "Do you remember when Mommy and Daddy were talking about us all moving to Dubai- you cried that you did not want to move to another planet. You said that you were afraid to travel on a rocket!"

I called him aside and reminded him about an embarrassing boo-boo he had made about a year ago. He had been playing a wrestling game on his Playstation and was
really enjoying kicking his opponent's butt, when my husband joined him. "Wow, you're doing well," his dad said. "What is the name you chose for your player?"
Shakeel replied, " Daddy, the awesome thing is I didn't even have to choose a name for him- he already had a cool name- it's Default".

Thankfully Shakeel was humbled into stopping his incessant teasing- let's see how long this respite lasts.