So not a supermum

I know it's been a while since my last post, but I am just really drained. I haven't been doing the best job of juggling housework, having four kids in school and all the demands that come with these.

Just the other day Mo heard me yelling at the kids from outside. He came in chuckling.
"Do you know that you sound like a wasvrou (fishwife)?" he asked. From the expression on my face, I'm sure he quickly realised that it is not the best idea to prod an angry bear. 

But he was right - over the past few months I have slowly felt myself transforming from my usual reserved self into a coarse angry raging lunatic. I yell at the kids, I am too tired to listen to their stories and jokes and I have just become impatient with them. My main focus is to get homework done, household chores completed (well, as far as that's possible anyway) and then get them into bed. 

Don't get me wrong. I love them dearly. I am so happy to see them as they walk toward the car in the afternoons. Then the bickering starts. And the whining. I swear - it's gotten a million times worse over the past few months. Shakeel (now 14) fights with Tharaa (11) for fighting with Nuha (8) who incessantly teases Aisha (3). Or perhaps it's always been this way - perhaps my fuse is just so much shorter with all this added pressure I'm feeling.

Shakeel is now officially in the throes of adolescence. Yesterday I reminded him of the discussions we used to have when he was younger, during which I'd warn him about what I refer to as 'teenage brain'. Back then, whenever we'd watch movies with bratty rude teenagers, I'd point out that they were afflicted with this awful syndrome - my son would then make me so proud by pronouncing his disgust at the awful behaviour of these teenagers and solemnly promising that he'd never ever become like that. Since he was aware of this awful phenomenon, he was convinced that he would be able to identify its onset and then avoid being sucked in. 

Well, so much for that.

My son is becoming uncharacteristically grumpy, irritable and unreasonable. Everything I say is met with an argument. It is exhausting. So last night, for a few minutes, during a discussion on 'teenage brain',  I managed to reach the little boy I miss so much when he smiled and grudgingly acknowledged that he was aware that he was acting like a typical adolescent. I told him that his feelings were a natural result of hormonal changes he may be experiencing. I think I should probably spend less time yelling and more time talking to him. 

But, on the upside, after a very rocky start, he seems to be adjusting to high school really well. His term 1 results were good - he is doing really well in Natural Science, Maths (which were my main concerns) and EMS. But even more impressive was his performance in the school's chess tournament, during which he beat the kids who had been ceded No. 1 and No.2 in his group. His granddad (my dad) would have been so proud. 

Then, there's Tharaa. Her term 1 results were excellent - in fact she topped her grade, much to her (and our) delight. She is her drama teacher's darling (having achieved 100% for her efforts during the term 1 drama assessment). In addition, her art, which is displayed on the staff room door, so impressed one of her teachers that she (the teacher) asked if she could keep it for herself. 

But she seems to be reserving her good behaviour for school. At home, she picks on Nuha (and even on Aisha, at times) incessantly. She has the ability to turn a deaf ear to everything I say. 

The same goes for Nuha. At a teachers/parents meeting held recently, I met her teacher, who clearly thought she was an absolute star. The teacher gushed. My mouth hung open with disbelief. I did not know what to say. I blinked a few times. Was this teacher being sarcastic? I wanted to ask if she was sure she was speaking about the same child I was raising. Because that child disobeyed every instruction or request of mine, refused to cooperate with me and has become downright cheeky.

But, yes, I was told, we were in fact speaking about the same child. A child who apparently needed to spoken to no more than once before promptly obeying instructions (!?!?). A child who was an absolute delight to teach, and who often was asked to mark the tests and exercises of her classmates, which she apparently did - not only willingly, but with precision and accuracy.  I left that meeting feeling confused.

And then, of course, there's Aisha. Well, the only constant in my life has been Aisha. She still is as stubborn, temperamental, difficult and lovable as she always has been.
She still cries each morning when we drop her off at school, although her teacher assures me that this does not last very long. She also claims to enjoy school, but cannot promise me that she won't cry again the following morning. 

Mo has been working really long hours (first at the office and then later in our garage doing spraypainting). So, I've been really reluctant to burden him with issues regarding the kids as well. 

I don't know how other moms do it. I admire those moms who are able to manage their homes effortlessly while still parenting their kids without complaints. Although I am a bit reluctant to admit this, I suspect that everything went downhill in my relationship with my kids when I decided that I no longer want a domestic worker. I wanted to run our household and be there for my kids. And why not - so many other women do this. Not everyone has the privilege of having someone clean up after them. This went well for a while, but now, months later, I feel like I am drowning in endless (and I really mean endless) household chores to the extent that I have neither the energy, nor the time to spend with the kids. In addition, I am becoming really annoyed at the fact that they are just so damn messy. They showed far more consideration to our domestic workers, since they (like their mom) are more concerned about what outsiders think of them. On the other hand, with me running the household, they have no problem tossing clean laundry on the floor in order to sit on the couch, and then just proceeding to walk over a T shirt as if it was a mat (yes, this really happens).

I'm tired. And grumpy. So I eat. I am sure I gained at least 3 kgs during the past few months. On Sunday Mo decided that we need to get ourselves out of this rut since we haven't been to gym since January - not having a domestic worker to stay home with the kids means that we are unable to go to out. So we decided to head off to Green Point for some fresh air and light exercise.

Since I had the kids with me I could not run, so I did some brisk walking instead. Nuha moaned constantly that I must not beat her in the imaginary race she had going on in her head. When I walked past her, she sulked. But although the morning had its little challenges, it still did us good spend some time outdoors on such a beautiful day.

Tharaa

Shakeel, my sullen adolescent

Nuha and Aisha grumble and moan while I try to work up a sweat

Mo doing a dance, trying to reassure Aisha that she will not fall through the gaps

Looking contemplative

Urrrgh!!!!!!!!!

My monkey enjoying the monkey-bars

Un-frikkin-believable

Yay!! All four of them playing together - like the old days (5  months ago)

And ...he's back!!!

Drama around Shakeel's high school applications

I don't know if you've noticed - my posts have been rather light and trivial of late. I think I've been trying to keep my mind off what has really been causing me headaches - Shakeel (13)'s high school application process.

So we submitted his applications to three of the better public high schools in our region. I'm talking - schools with 98 -100% matric pass rate, excellent academic facilities, very impressive extra-mural facilities (including massive swimming pools, sports fields) etc.

I was confident. Academically he does well, so I was not worried about the fact that his report card would be accompanying his application. In fact, I was happy about it - I thought that would guarantee him acceptance into any school.

The school closest to our home was my first choice (let's call it Option 1). Impressive facilities, a happy vibe - and less than five minutes drive away from our home!!!! The problem is that this school's policy is to accept learners from the suburb in which the school is located, and the suburb on its immediate right (both very affluent suburbs). Unfortunately, we live in the suburb on the left of the suburb in which the school is situated, which places us outside that school's catchment area. Nevermind the fact that the school is nearer to the border of our suburb (and our home) than that of the other approved suburb.

My panic started when we received news that Shakeel's friends had received feedback from Option 1. They were receiving dates for interviews. We waited- and waited- and waited. I carried the phone with me everywhere - in the car, to bed, to the toilet. I was desperate to receive that call. But alas, it did not come.

Then we received a call from Option 3. Shakeel had an appointment for Monday (last week). He was ecstatic - that had been his first choice because many of his friends were applying to that school. But I was not keen - despite the fact that the school boasts state of the art facilities (as do all 3 of them) and a most impressive view over the Atlantic - this school was even more out of the way than his current (primary) school is.

But still no call came from either Options 1 or 2. I was grumpy and upset. Shakeel was reduced to tears - it was a major blow to his self-esteem. He started to doubt himself - maybe he was not as academically-strong as we'd thought?

Mo phoned Option 2 - just to find out if they had any news for us. To our immense relief they said that they had been meaning to call to set up an interview. His interview was for Saturday (two days before his appointment at Option 3!!)

So off he and Mo headed on Saturday morning. The school requested the attendance of the child (in school uniform) accompanied by a parent. Since Mo is much more likeable than what I am, there was no question as to who would go with Shakeel.

They returned an hour later - Shakeel was beaming. He had been accepted - there and then - in the interview! The principal had been extremely impressed with him. Upon hearing that Shakeel had not received an interview at Option 1, the principal said that there was absolutely no reason that ANY school should refuse his application. His academic results were excellent, and overall, he was a really impressive candidate, he was told. I was so relieved. But not as relieved as Shakeel himself was - his confidence in himself had been restored.

The pressure was off. So although he was to attend the interview at Option 3, he didn't really feel nervous since he had already been accepted at a high school. Again, his more sociable, popular parent accompanied him, while the socio-phobic hermit    I stayed home with Aisha (2).

He returned from that interview acting all cocky and super-confident. The principal, who had come across as really intimidating on the school's Open Day, had been really taken with my son. Upon hearing that he had been accepted at Option 2, he acknowledged that that was a good school, but jokingly urged Shakeel to choose his school instead. In fact he said that he would love to have Shakeel at their school and accepted him there and then. Woo- hooo!! Shakeel was indeed as excellent a candidate as we'd initially thought. Vindicated, at last!

The principal of Option 3, like his counterpart at Option 2, also stated that there was absolutely no grounds upon which Option 1 could refuse Shakeel's application (despite us falling outside their catchment area), because of our proximity to the school and the fact that Shakeel was an impressive candidate. He too could not understand their decision.

Upon further investigation we have discovered that the sifting process of the 600 or so applicants at Option 1, is not done in a fool-proof infallible manner by a super-efficient panel (as we'd assumed), but by a woman who has been doing it for years - and whose decisions are very often overturned since they often cannot be justified. Should we receive a letter of refusal, we definitely plan to appeal that decision - although, I must admit that this whole business has left behind a bitter taste for Shakeel and myself - and I feel less enthusiastic about sending him to Option 1 now. Mo, however, being the more practical and less emotional one, insists that this school remains the best option for Shakeel and the most practical one for all of us because of its proximity.

It might be evident to you, dear reader, how I have managed to take the issue of my son's high school application - and make it all about me. My feelings of rejection. My hurt. My anger. I hope I didn't mess with his sense of self-worth too much. Which brings me to my next point - this issue has in fact had a major impact on Shakeel's confidence and belief in himself. He insists that it is only because I made it so - he had not doubted himself until he saw me looking all petrified and devastated, which in turn made him feel like a failure.

Let's hope that whatever school he ends up attending, equips him well for an amazing career - necessary to pay for the long-term therapy he will need resulting from having me as a mother this experience.