Almost healed!

It's going so well with Boeboe's spider bite. It's almost healed! This photo was taken last night. Approximately 10 days after being bitten, and 7 days of antibiotic treatment. Absolutely amazing, the whole healing process. Isn't the skin and body wonderful?

7 Days of 3 types of antibiotic (1 topical and 2 oral)

Boeboe was a real trooper. Sometimes, she's a little crybaby. If she has a papercut, she'd cry and complain like it's the worst thing ever. And then something like this happens where I can imagine how painful it must be. She couldn't sit on that leg, she had to keep the leg stiff at times when walking, because movement caused pain, bathing was painful, putting the ointment on burned, etc. But she never cried or fought me on anything. She allowed me to treat her, she drank her medicine without complaint and even helped to remind me when I almost forgot. I think she was still scared of the whole thing, and knew that she needed the treatments. Anyway, I'm just very very thankful that she's okay. Both me and her daddy has this huge fear of spiders. My biggest one is sac spiders, and of course, that's probably the one that bit her! When she was 2 years old, she once woke up from a nap. She was still sleeping in her cot. I went to her and bent over the railing to pick her up. As I bent, I saw movement in the corner of my eye. When I looked down, there was a yellow sacspider on the inside of the railing, about 3cm from my face. I yelled, jumped back, then darted forward again grabbing my daughter from an angle away from the spider. By which time her daddy came running in. We killed the spider, but I had this awful awful feeling that she's going to be bitten. So it's almost as if I've waited for this day. I'm so very very grateful that it only happened when she was 9, and could tell me, and fight the infection off.

You might think I felt she's going to be bitten because of the huge fright I had at that point. But I don't believe so. One day, I sat on my bed reading to Mr N. He was also something like 2 or 3 at the time. I picked up a pillow that I've thrown off the bed earlier the evening, and put it behind my back. The open end of the pillow case was at the bottom, pressing against the matress. Unbeknownst to me, a yellow sacspider must've climbed into the pillow case. My movements must've disturbed him, because next moment, he came running out right between my leg and Mr N's leg. I screamed my head off, grabbed Mr N and held him as high as I could, all the while trying to get away from the spider myself. Fortunately, he just ran in a straight line away from us. I was able to kill it, and from that day I always check pillows that laid on the floor when I pick them up. Especially on the inside. Anyway, this happened years before the cot-spider incident with Boeboe. But I never had this feeling that Mr N's going to be bitten. And even a month ago, when we found the yellow sac spider in the clean washing, and it dissapeared from my bed, with Peanut's bed pushed right against mine, I never felt like Peanut's going to be bitten. So it's not just a fear of spiders that caused me to feel like Boeboe's going to be bitten. I think somehow I'm really intuned with Boeboe. It started when she was still in my tummy, and I always knew she's not fairing well, but that she WILL live through her birth and whatever happens thereafter. Same with her backoperation. I had this conviction that it MUST be done.

Anyway, that aside. You'd think like we live in the bushveld with the amount of close encounters with spiders we've had! Especially yellow sac spiders. So you can understand why I hate them so much! Though, it really isn't as bad as it sounds. These incidents happened over a 10 year span. But ya, we do live in a country with some crazy bugs, insects, snakes and animals! Like they say, Africa isn't for "sissies"! (Sissies in my hometongue means timid, fearfull, scaredy-cats!). The school where Monkeyman goes to, is on a smallholding. And a few weeks ago, the teacher killed a rinkhals in her house!!!!! And it's NOT the first snake they've found on the smallholding. So yeah, this is Africa for you!

Spider bite!!!! Eeeekkk...

WHY does everything have to happen to Boeboe?! I don't get it. :-( Well, as you can gather from the title, Boeboe has (probably) been bitten by a spider. We're not 100% sure, because we only took her to the dr about 3-4 days after it must've happened! (Mommy of the year award, I know. *embarressed face-palm*) The dr said that if we brought her in immediately, he could've maybe seen the tell-tale teethmarks (2 tiny bites). But by this stage, the evidence has been destroyed by the infection in the wound. He guesses that it was most likely a spider bite, but it could even be another type of insect, or (unlikely) ringworm, or something like a mosquito bite that she scratched and then it got infected by bacteria. Personally, I think it's a spider bite. We're having way too many of them in the house. I kill them when I see them (sorry, I do). I have an extreme fear of spiders. My sister believes it's because as children we've been traumatised by a mother who found them the most beautiful creatures in the world, so not only did she not kill them, but she actively encouraged them to live in the house with us. She called one particular one in her pantry, her little "pet"! So yeah, I fear them like nothing else. I refused to go into that pantry. Anyway, about a month ago I found a big yellow sac spider amongst the clean washing when I folded it. Unfortunately, it fell down right on to my bed (where I was folding the washing) and it dashed off. I tried to find it. We looked for hours (me, husband and the elder kids). Because baby Peanut's bed is pushed right against ours (like one big family bed) so I was terrified that it would bite her in the night. Well, we never found the spider. Boeboe prayed very hard that evening that God must please help Peanut that the spider does not bite her, or mommy and daddy. Then, on Tuesday, a month later, I found it (I think it's the same one) in my bath! Alive, but stuck, unable to get out. I flushed it. But now I wonder, maybe it was hiding in Boeboe's room all this time, and it bit her, then got into our bathroom overnight, and I killed it.

In any case, it must've happened around Monday I think. Tuesday evening, she asked me to look at this little "bump" she has on her upper back leg, because it hurts. I was busy with Peanut, so I had a quick, hurried look. It was raised, reddish, about 5mm in diametre, and had a scab on the top. It almost looked like a scratched mosquito bite. So I told her I think that's what it is. She told me, "but mommy, I never scratched it". So I said, you probably did it in your sleep without knowing about it. She accepted the answer and darted away. I forgot about the incident! Two days later, on Thursday, she told me "Mommy, my skin is falling off"!! I had a look, and this is what I found:

Day 4 - Starting antibiotics and a topical cream

 

I took her to the dr, at that time of night, and I'm so grateful I did. We got a combination of antibiotics, as well as an ointment to put on. It burns the crap out of her when I put it on, poor thing. The dr says the "rings" (red and white) makes him believe it's a spider bite. The rings apparently grows bigger and going more outward as the infection/poison spread. I heard that spider teeth is full of bacteria, so even if it didn't inject any poison, it could still cause a bad infection. Well, within 1 day of giving antibiotics, the reddish inflammation around the wound is MUCH better, and by 2 days it was gone. This is how it looks now:

Day 6 - Two days after starting antibiotics

Definitely a huge improvement. The poor thing complains that it's still very sore. That middle, yellowish part is very hard, like a crust. I'm wondering if it'll leave a scar. :-( Anyway, what's done is done. I feel awful though, for not having a look on Wednesday how the "mosquito bite" looked. I'm just very grateful that the a/b's seemed to have halt the progress, started to clear the infection, and fascilitated the healing process.

Something else came out during this process. When I saw it, I told her I believe that she might've been bitten by a spider. She was immediately very scared, asking if she's going to die now. (sniff sniff). I told her no, if it would've killed her, she would've been dead already. Because she was bitten at least 3-4 days prior, and she's still fine. So she's going to be just fine. She accepted the answer, but asked what will happen then? I told her most likely we'll need medicine, and in the very, very worst case scenario, they usually operate. She told me "so I'll have 2 operations". I asked why? And she replied that she still needs another back operation. I was astonished, and wanted to know what made her think that? She said the dr said that when she grows bigger, the filum will reconnect/retether, and she'll have to have another operation to cut it. I told her no, she misunderstood the dr. He said in very rare cases, that it is a possibility. But it's so rare, it's not something she should think or worry about. She was very relieved! So I'm kinda grateful this came out. I never knew she was worried about having to go through one of the worst times in her life again. Poor thing!

Happy New Year!

Goodbye 2012, hello 2013!!

What a year. And the world didn't end. ;-) For me, 2012 was a good year. A great year, in fact. My last and 4th baby was born. Safely, healthy and perfect. My second daughter. How happy can one be? Sometimes I think I'm ontop of the world, there's nothing more that could make me happier. And then something happens. Something like the birth of a child, and I realise now I'm as happy as one can be! It was a beautiful year. The first half was spent in a haze of nausea, but it was all worth it. Every second of 9 months of nausea. I see so many people comment online that "now their family is complete". That's how I feel. At long last, I can say that in all honesty. I have the children I wanted. I'm done with pregnancy and babies and having more children. Because I'm happy with those I have. I'm satisfied. I'm complete. I'm so so so grateful that I too could say that and mean it. I think if given unlimited funds and health, I could've and would've had more babies. But for what I was given, I'm very happy and grateful to have 4 children. And two of each. How blessed am I!

So 2012 was a good year. At the end of 2011, I was tired. I was nauseous. I was done for. The pregnancy came too quickly after Boeboe's operation and the 2-year long road I had to travel to get to that point. Even though 2011 was a good year, and turned out well, I couldn't face it. I couldn't see it and deal with it. But now I can. I can look back at both 2011 and 2012 and realise we had 2 good years. We have so much to be thankful for. Four healthy, beautiful, exceptional children. Each with their own difficult paths that they had to travel. But we travelled it step by step, with God as our lead, and we ended up in green pastures. I'm so thankful. For Boeoboe's operation. For the success it was. For the seizing of Mr N's epilepsy - holding thumbs! So far so good. Three months without medication and no seizures that we've noticed. For Monkeyman's improvement of school. For Peanut's birth. So much we're grateful for in 2012.

So what will 2013 bring? I hope it will be a quite year. An easy year. A non-medical year!! A year where we won't need to see specialists and doctors and hospitals and such. I know it's not possible. Boeboe and Peanut both need regular check-ups. But as long as it's just check-ups and nothing more. We can only pray and hope and believe that that would be 2013. And we'll take it day by day, enjoy Peanut's first year with her, and be a family of 6!!

I hope that everyone that frequent this blog will also have a wonderful, peaceful and good 2013. Happy New Year!!!

A tribute to my mother

I miss my mother. I always miss her this time of the year. Naturally. I wonder if one ever stop missing his or her parents? I was very close to my mom. People tend to think that if you lost a parent, you weren't that close to that parent. Because they can't imagine that it could happen to them. Loosing their parent. So if they're that close to their mom, it is simply unimaginable to loose her. Thus, you couldn't have been that close to yours, because the pain would be too much to bear.

Unfortunately for those that think like that....yes, you CAN be that close to your mom, and still loose her. And yes, sometimes, especially in the beginning, the pain IS too much to bear. But somehow, with the grace of God, I got through it. And still get through it. The pain is never gone. I have acceptance, yes. I don't cry anymore every time I look at a photo of her or think about her. But it's still a hole in my heart. It will always be a hole in my heart. But, 11 years down the line, it's bearable. The missing stays, though. It never gets any better. I still wish I could phone her and tell her about the horrible day I had. Or email her and get that twinge of excitement when I see there's a reply. I wish for her wise words to sooth me, her support to carry me through the hard times.

My mom was a very special person. Yes, I know, everyone says that. But as a person, as a human being, mine was really, really special. She had what we call in my mother tongue, a depth of spirit that was unequaled. I've never came across anyone else that had such depth, such soul, such beauty. She was an intellectual, and she understood human nature like no one else. She had empathy for the worst kind of human beings. Whereas I saw things and people as black and white, she saw them in shades of grey. She understood how I felt, but she had empathy for everyone. Good or bad. She could summarise people immediately and knew where they came from. She understood what shaped people.

These unique abilities made her the perfect highschool teacher. She didn't work in the normal school environment though. She went to teach the poorest of the poor. Communities that had very little to give. Very little support. Very little going for them. And she threw her whole weight behind her job. She gave everything. Her mind, her body, her soul. I can't remember much of the mourning service we gave her after her death. But what I do remember, was the beautiful words that her collegue spoke. You could hear how much he (they) valued her at the school. How much she meant to them. Professionally and personally. And how much they're going to miss her.

My mother loved music. Apart from her family and work, this was her big love. She loved Handle, Mozart, Beethoven, Chopin, Schubart, etc. All the big composers. For relaxation, she would lie down in the afternoons, and for an hour or two, she would put her music on loud and just gave herself over to the music. It calmed her. It restored her soul. I could never get into classical music like she did. Unfortunately. Her other hobby was sewing. She made most of my clothes, and allot of her own. She also loved to study. I lost track with the number of degrees and majors she got behind her name. She loved geography the most. When I think of her, I remember her sitting by her desk, plotting the topography maps laid out. She studied through the post. The number of times I went to her desk to kiss her goodnight.... such bittersweet memories. And flowers. I can't see a beautiful flower, without thinking about my mom. She loved, loved, loved flowers. ALL flowers. She planted as much as she could afford, and tended to them like a mother. She would adorn her home with them. She loved putting welcoming flowers in all the rooms for visitors. When I developed severe hayfever from flowers, she would pick those that affected me least, and put one or two in my room. She simply couldn't NOT welcome me home without a flower in my room.

And the sea. Waenhuiskrans, to be precise. That's where her heart was.

I wish she could see me and my children today. I wish she could hold my babies, and get to know them as little people. See how unique and special they are. She would've LOVED them, I know. She would've most definitely have had a very special relationship with Mr N, because he sees the world like I do, and my views made for lots of interesting conversations between me and my mom. She would've had the same with mr N. She also would've loved seeing Boeboe. My spitting image. How special would that have been for her, to see her own baby repeat in her granddaughter. She would've been so please to see me as a stay at home mom. And even more pleased if she saw I had 4 children. She too had four children. And she always thought that I wouldn't be able to have as many. Because times have changed and all that jazz. She would've loved seeing me defy the odds and be as bold as to go and get what I want. To make my dreams come true. It would've pleased her no end. All that she wanted for us, was that we would've turned out well-balanced adults who live productive and happy lives. It would've made her very proud to see that that was exactly what we all did, in the end. It would've also please her very much to see all of us living so close together as we're doing. To see us support each other, care for each other. She would've loved seeing the bonds that formed between her grandchildren.

I do believe that she's with us, always. That she DOES see them. That she does get to know them, even if it's not with us in body. But in spirit, I know she's with us. I feel her sometimes. And sometimes I can even feel her emotions. I know, that sounds strange. But it's what I feel. I miss her so much. She was my rock, my support. The one person that didn't care what I say or do. That was always there for me. That always understood me. I'm fortunate that my husband and sister covers some of the hole in me. But nothing can ever take her place. I loved her like I loved no other human being for 22 years, until I met my husband and had babies. For 22 years, my mother was my whole world. The horror of loosing her...it left a permanent scar on my heart.

It hurts me to think that one day, my children will also experience this pain. But I hope that like me, they would find peace after their mother's death. That they'd have acceptance. And that they too would think of me with love, respect, longing and a sense of all encompassing support and care. I hope that they'd get over the initial sharp pain of loosing me, and then find solace in the life I lead. That they too would know I was ready. That I had the life I chose. That I was happy and had no regrets.

The gender debate...

Since we told the children that we're going to have another baby in the house, Boeboe has been adamant that it must be a little girl. She already has 2 brothers, she now also wanted a sister. She prayed for it for months, every night. That God will let this baby be a little girl. She understood that we don't have a choice in the matter, and that it could be either a boy or a girl. When I once asked her if she'll love another baby in the house if it isn't a little girl, she answered: "Of course. It's a baby. I loved Monkeyman even though he was a boy!". And that's Boeboe for you! So it's not that I fear that she won't love the new baby, I know she will. But, for her sake, I've been hoping that she'll get a sister one day. Mine means so much to me, I do believe every girl deserves to have a sister.

So in the beginning of this pregnancy, we assumed it will be for the best if we find out the answer. For Boeboe's sake. But then we started wondering. I sat down with Boeboe a few weeks ago and explained to her that we do have another option. That we don't have to find out the gender. That we can wait until baby is born, before we know. And that it will then be a big surprise.

Well, she surprised me!! She immediately grabbed onto the idea and from then on was adamant that we shouldn't find out the gender. We also told Mr N, who also found the idea intriguing. So, on the eve of my 16-week visit with the gynae, we sat down as a family. Because I have private health care in our country, I get a sonar with every 4-week visit at the gynae, and we knew she'd be able to tell us the gender this time (at 12 weeks it was just too early).

So we needed to decide, will we find out, or will we wait? After some discussions, no one could for sure say yay or nay. Mr N then had the bright idea that we must put it to a vote. He gave each one a piece of paper and we had to write it down. Afterwards, he and Boeboe collected everyone's votes and read the verdict. I was the only one that voted yay!! The rest, all the kids and daddy, voted no! So, that was the final decision. :) We thus have requested the gynae at our last visit to not reveal the gender, and she's taken care to make sure of that. Both me and my hubby has this "suspicion" that it's a boy, but sometimes I'll have this feeling of pink. In the beginning of the pregnancy, I thought the baby to be a little girl. So now I'm not really sure. Not at all. With the other 3 I was quite sure from the start, and right every time. This time, I just don't know!! And it frustrates me, LOL. I loved having that instinctive feeling of what it was, the other times. And I got those feelings before a sonar confirmed it for me.

In fact, with Mr N we didn't find out the gender either! I instinctively knew it was a boy, but we still decided to not find out. And it was lovely! We bonded with baby because it was our baby, not because of a certain gender. We loved him/her for what (s)he is. It really didn't matter to me or my husband. People didn't like it, they tried to convince us to find out. Even now, while we're doing it again, they immediately go into defensive mode and tell us how they had to find out. Because they needed to know for whatever reason. Well, we don't have those reasons! We don't need those reasons. Can't you understand that? Like the gynae said...there's so few things left in this world to be surprised about. Why not enjoy this gift for what it is? I don't have any problem bonding with a genderless baby. Why would the gender play a role there? Well, it doesn't for me. My baby is my baby. I love him or her just as (s)he is. With any faults/abnormalities/issues that may come with the baby. Why would the gender then be a distinctive marker? Well, to me it isn't. Oh, I wanted a little girl! I desperately wanted to have all that pink experiences again. I had the blue twice now, so I wanted the pink again. I tried for a little girl, and obsessed about it. Until I fell pregnant. Then, of course, those feelings mostly fell away. Now, this is just my baby. It doesn't matter who or what it turns out to be. I'll love it fiercly, like all my other children.

So, why do people get defensive about their choice of finding out the gender? Why do they feel the need to immediately reply to my "we're not finding out the gender" comment, to go into elaborate and passionate reasons about why one should know the gender? It has baffled me. Why would my choice illicit such a vehement defence of theirs? It's not as if their choices is going to change my mind?! So could it be guilt? Do they feel guilty for needing to find out the gender? I don't know.

We had both. We had the surprise with Mr N. And we found out the gender with both Monkeyman and Boeboe. And of those 3, the surprise was MUCH nicer!! There was just NO comparison for me. But when I tell people this, they brush it off as clearly not that big a deal. But they don't hear me. It was MUCH nicer FOR US. I'm not saying it should or would be nicer for other people. But WE, we loved the surprise! For US, it was the better deal. Waiting and bonding with our baby for 9 months regardless of who or what (s)he turns out to be, and then hearing that "It's a boy!" yell of surprise and excitement from the gynae....the moment was priceless. Of all 3 my births, of all the thousands of little moments that made the 3 births special, that's the one that stood out for me. And I want that again.

Yes, I voted to find out. Because I'm human and wanted to go buy a pink or blue babygrow and blanket. But I'm happy that I was veto'ed. That we get to have this surprise again. Yesterday, I took Boeboe shopping and we had a look at the baby clothes. We bought a few non-gender specific white things, and she was loving every moment. But she did say, oh, how will we be able to wait!! Because of all those beautiful little pink and blue babygrows....ah, bliss. I just told her we'll come and shop as soon as baby was born. :) And we'll buy all the pink or blue we want. In the meantime, white, yellow, lime and peach will have to do. She was satisfied with that. So, for now, we're only shopping for a few newborn babygrows. Most of what I need, I'll get after the birth. Fortunately I don't need much. We have loads of clothes in the cupboard from Boeboe and the boys, and we have all the baby stuff like a pram, a stroller, a cot, a camping cot, a carry cot, a donut, a babygym, carseats, a bumboseat, a seat to clip onto our table, sheets and other bedding, etc. We don't need much for this baby, except a few toiletries, newborn nappies and of course I want a few new newborn outfits for in the hospital. And just because I can. :)

Now, we have to wait for our little suprise baby in less than 5 months...can't wait to hear the gynae's voice yelling "It's a boy!" or "It's a girl!". :)

Working vs staying-at-home

I can't believe it's December already. The children are on summer holiday!!! We're having a blast at home. Though, poor Mr N had a strep-throat last week that really caught him badly. Even had the rash! Very similar to the scarlet fever he had the year before, except no strawberry tongue this time. Fortunately, nobody contracted it from him. Unfortunately, he was too ill to attend his school's merits evening. He was invited, but we still don't know for what exactly.

We received Boeboe's books back for the term, and wow, we were impressed! She did so very very well. Her understanding is definitely much better. I'm so pleased for her. And I'm hoping for a MUCH less hectic year with her next year. She'll be going to grade 3, which I found the easiest of the grades 1-3 with Mr N. The work is less intense, mostly hammering in of certain concepts. So not so much overwhelmingly new work. And they're old enough to start doing nearly all homework by themselves. Except of course, still reading to mom every day. :) She's taken to reading so much! She reads in bed every night. Not for long, but she loves it and it makes me soooooo happy. She says she wants to become clever. Her teacher told her reading makes you clever, LOL.

She's still throwing tantrums, still having accidents, still hurting her feet. But she's doing so well in other ways, that I'd rather concentrate on that now. Yesterday, she did 2 things that her brother forgot. Both were told the same 2 things to remember, and only she did. I was very surprised, stunned and happy about that! Happy that my responsible boy can have fun and be irresponsible for a change, and extremely happy that my careless, "loskop" daughter can be responsible for a change, and REMEMBER. Using her memory! It was a great feeling. I rewarded her with a much wanted packet of sweets, LOL. Oh, for those non-Afrikaans people..."loskop" means to be loose in your head. So you're not thinking. You're careless. You're all over the place. Hope this makes sense?

It's also going well with Monkeyman. He's getting quite a personality these past few weeks. When he's upset or angry, he needs to remove himself, hide and take time to recover. It's so sweet and cute. First child of mine that does/need that. Totally opposite of Boeboe! Who will keep on screaming, tantrumming, until her anger/frustration/hurt was dealt with by me...sympathising, disciplining, etc. Monkeyman just needs a minute to be by himself, then he'll be all happy and loving and smiling again. Amazing.

Anyway, I didn't just want to give an update today. I've been mulling something over in my head. Wondering at people's reactions. Those that know me, knows that I'm very passionate about a few things. One of them is the schooling situation in our country. I can't speak for all cultures, all cities, all people in SA. So I'm just going to speak from my point of view...which is middle class, professional people. Most women like me, about 70% I'd guess, works. Either out of choice, or necessity. Most people choose the lifestyle that goes with getting 2 salaries. I don't blame them. I would most likely have done the same, if I wasn't in the fortunate position where we could (almost) reach that lifestyle with only one salary. But, I had the option, so I chose to be a stay-at-home-mom (SAHM). So my experiences and viewpoints are from this experience, of course.

I have an issue with creches for small babies. Lots of issues with it. I won't go into it now, because it'll take too long. But I understand that when you work (want to or are forced to), that you'll have to look at the positives to be able to drop your 4-month old baby in a teacher's arms 5 days a week, for about 8-9 hours. Some of my friends even have to leave their babies for up to 11 hours, if traffic is bad, etc.

What I do want to talk about, is the way some mothers not only turn this into a positive...but a necessity!!! This really shock me. I try to be sympathetic, or stay out of it by not replying in conversations, but it bugs me. It really, really bugs me. So the past few months, I've had a couple of "run-ins" with other mothers who told me their opinion. Every time I've decided to not reply, because I know myself. I feel too passionate about it, and it WILL come out wrong. A very good SAHM friend of mine once told me that we (SAHM's) will never understand working moms, because of the choice we've made. We didn't make the choice because we just felt like it. We made the choice because of WHO we ARE. It's ingrained in us. It's part of us. That means we have a totally different outlook in life. Not because we're a SAHM. But...we're a SAHM because of that outlook. It's a fundamental difference between the two groups. And that's why we don't understand working mommies (I'm generalising here, of course). And why they don't understand us. And that's why working mommies tend to be friends with working mommies, and SAHM's tend to be friends with other SAHM's. Of course, this doesn't mean I don't have working mommy friends. I'm again, just generalising for the sake of the argument.

Anyway, what happened was that I was having a really hard time with Monkeyman's shyness the past 6 months. Sometimes I wonder if it started by me "abandoning" him with Boeboe's operation in April, or if it's just an age thing or what. But at some point, I realised he's really the worst of my 3 (shy) kids. It's really painful to him. Let me explain.

When we go to a children's party, visiting friends, go to his playschool, etc. Any place where there's other CHILDREN (he has NO problem with adults!!) he will climb on my lap. He'll refuse to speak, and if any child (except his siblings) would just so much as look at him, he'll hide his face under my arm, head turned away into me. He'll even close his eyes. If the child will try to speak to him, he won't even just hide, he'll literally starts crying, or being upset. Even at school if the children starts to sing a song together, he'll be terrified.

Now, you may think this is extreme and abnormal. But to me, it's not. It's me. That's how I was. That's how I am. So I don't mind it much. Not at all. I know that he CAN and WILL grow out of most of it, and start to socialise when he's ready. I know this, because I know HIM. The way he acts around his siblings, is so totally normal. He'll be exuberant, playful, running around, not needing me at all. And when he's in safe surroundings, like his house, and only ONE child visits, he'll be fine! If there's 2, he'll be a little timid, but after a while, starts to play with them. If we visit one child, he'll take a few minutes and then starts to play. When we visit a house with more than 1 child, it'll take him a bit longer. You see the pattern? If there's allot of children, even those he knows well, like friends' kids, he'll take about an hour to start playing.

So what's my point? The fact that a number of friends and family (all working mommies) has made me understood that in their opinion, I'm the problem. Not Monkeyman. It's because of ME that he's like that. They say, if I would just FORCE him to go to school, he'll learn to socialise and enjoy it. He's hanging onto me, accordingly to them, because I'm the one that can't let go.

I think the emotion I feel the most clearly after these accusations, is sadness. Sadness for their callousness. Sadness for what I guess they did to their children. Sadness for the way they see the world. Sadness for their children that is forced into situations they can't handle. Sadness for how little they understand me, and the dynamics between me and my children. Sadness for how little they understand my child. Sadness for how little sympathy and empathy they have for my child.

I guess it's like being thrown into the deep water to teach someone to swim. Yes, it works for some children. Yes, it's one way of handling the "problem". But WHY do I NEED to do THAT? There's soooooo many other options! Why am I being blamed, for choosing the typical SAHM option, and not the Working mommy option? Why is it "normal" in our country, our society, for a child to be ripped away from their mothers when they're not ready? Why should a 4-month old be away from their mother? Why should a 2-year old be away from their mother? Why should a 4-year old be away from their mother? If they're not ready? What's so WRONG about being WITH your mother? Needing her? Wanting her? At what age should this separation happen? Clearly not at 4-months? So if people can do that to their 4-month old babies, why do they need to tell me I'm the wrong one in this equation, just because my child is 3? How can MY wrong, be so wrong, and THEIR choices just be what's right/acceptable/good? How and why did this happen to society? Where it's MORE right for a 4-month old to be away from their mother, than a 3-year old being close to their mother??!!

My opinion is that children DO grow up. They DO gain independence. I never hold my children BACK on purpose. But I also don't PUSH them into something they're clearly not ready to do. WHY? What will I gain? What will the kid gain? And at what cost? If the cost, the hurt, seems more to me than the bit of independence gained, why should I do it? Independence WILL come. If I force it or not. So why force it? I really don't see Monkeyman still sitting on my lap age 6 in grade R! Or hiding his face from a group of children. And I'll be ready for him to go as well. Just like with the other two. I was about the only mom with both Mr N and Boeboe that wasn't crying when I dropped them off for their first day of school. Why did I need to cry? It was a happy day! They were starting this whole, brand new experience for which they were so ready, so looking forward to it. They had no need to cling to me. They didn't cry. They smiled and waved goodbye. Because they were secure and independent.

In my opinion, from my experience, children starts to gain independence and develop in huge leaps and bounds around age 4-5. I'm sure Monkeyman too will get this boost. So he WILL be fine in a year's time. So why force him to stay at school, crying for his mother, while I drive away? The kids I've seen who that has been done with, is no more independent than my eldest two. In fact, both Mr N and Boeboe is, as I mentioned, quite independent and doing very well for their age. The grade R teacher even commented to me once that Mr N had the easiest adjustment to school she's ever seen. And that for a child who's never been to school until he was about 4 years old, and then only went to school once a week. Age 5 he went twice a week and everyone warned me that I should get him "into routine" of going 5 times a week. And I couldn't understand WHY. He'll get into routing WHEN he's going 5 days a week. If it's in playschool at age 5, or in Grade R at age 6, what difference would it make? Both me and him were loving it having him home 3 days a week (later on 2 days) at age 4 and 5. He loved going to school, but he also loved staying at home. It was always a relaxing decision. I've never ever had to force one of my kids to go to school when they didn't want to, until they started grade R (and even since then it's almost never a problem. They've never even faked illness to get out of school!).

They've never cried for me, while I drove away. And I sincerely believe I'm reaping the rewards with my 2 eldest. Both being confident, adjusting easily to new situations and new teachers. Even this year, with grade 4 being SO much different than grade 3, Mr N was like a fish in water. Not even registering the changes as big. He just adapted and continued. So no, neither of the eldest two are still attached to my pants. They can easily go play all day at a friends house, or have a sleepover, without missing mom much. They love being at home, and being with their parents, just like I did when I was a child.

So if it turned out so well for them, why should I change it with Monkeyman, just because his shyness is worse than theirs was? You get my point, I guess. As you can see, I'm passionate about this. And it upsets me that working moms expect SAHM's to follow their examples. I honestly do not think what working moms are doing, is always the best for every child. So why do I need to follow their example? I let the child and his personality lead me. Not the ideas of society that has turned sending 4-month old babies off to creches into a "normal", "right", "acceptable" and even "a good thing"! I can almost understand someone who's child is in creche from an early age, to think a child NOT in creche at age 3 or 4, is "wrong", "deprived", etc. But I don't go around and blame them and tell them their child was deprived at age 4 months, or 8 months, or 15 months because they were in a creche. So why do some of them feel the need to blame me?

Some people even gave me the arguments about how much their children has learned in school, and of course thereby implying that Monkeyman ISN'T learning anything. Gosh, how silly hey? Firstly, ALL children learn with time. Monkeyman was able to recognise ALL colours before age 2, without me ever sitting down to teach him. If he was in creche, I would've exclaimed how wonderful the creche is, because they're teaching him his colours so early! Wow. (*sarcasm*).

Monkeyman has been able to count to 30 for months and months now. I didn't teach him this. But neither Boeboe nor Mr N could do this even a YEAR after they've started school (playschool age 4)!! It's just how their little brains are wired. Monkeyman can sing songs. Neither Boeboe nor Mr N could do it even after 2 years in playschool, AND 1 year in grade R. Both could only sing their first song (remembering all the words) when they were 7! I firmly believe that children learn when their brains are ready to make those connections. You can force it all you want, if they're not ready, they won't learn it. If they're ready, you (or a teacher) may be able to teach it to them before they learn it by themselves. Thinking how wonderful the creche and teacher are, LOL. But, in my opinion, the child would've learned it in any case at some point. By age 7, most kids are almost equal in what they can and cannot do. Some are better at some things, obviously. Which I believe is mostly due to genetics and talent. You're good at maths, or ball sports, or dancing, etc. That kind of thing. As long as you provide a generally stimulating environment, with no pressure, enough sleep and rest, lots of love, and good food, I believe most children will achieve what they've achieved by age 5, if they were in school or not. They may not know that specific song the teacher has taught, of course not. I'm talking about general development of the brain and body. It would make no difference if a child has learned Silent Night at age 3, age 7 or age 15. In my opinion. So the specific detail is irrelevant. The methods of using the brain to remember the song, count, clap hands, use scissors, colour in, add and subtract, etc. Those methods are what's important. And the brain connections needed to accomplish that methods....they're there at age 5. Schooling or no schooling.

Monkeyman can count objects already. He can add 2 different number of objects to each other. He can smile and laugh with extreme happiness (daily). He can dance and sing. He can throw and catch a ball. He can cut papers. He can draw a little man. He can phone someones number. He can have a conversation with you that leaves you amazed at his perception of the world. He can play games on the i-Pad that wasn't designed with children in mind (not because of violence, etc. but because of its difficulty level). He can figure out new games before his dad had a chance to explain it to him. He even plays backgammon with me! He taught himself to read certain words, like yes, no, etc. (in English!) and some in Afrikaans. We never speak to him or read to him in English. He figured it out from playing i-Pad and watching English cartoons. He can tumble with his brother like he has no fear in the world of getting hurt. He can run around with Boeboe until he's all red in the face and laughing hysterically. He can play with his friend for hours without ever fighting, not even over a toy. He even plays with his siblings' friends, talking to them like equals. Not seeing the years of difference. Not even realising he's so much shorter! He can hold a baby with so much gentleness it plucks at your heartstrings. He can count backwards. He can count in 2 languages. He can play battleship against me or a computer opponent. And win! He can play mahjong! He can look at you like he's 70 and has all the knowledge in the world. He's one amazing little boy, and I do not see anything wrong with him, for not going to school. So he's scared when there's 20 children together. So what? Why force him to face them, when he's not ready? He can face his fears when there's 1, 3 or 5 children. Isn't that good enough at age 3, given everything else he's good at? So he's socially behind some of his peers. That doesn't mean he will be socially behind his peers at age 5, if I don't force him into school! Why on earth would people think that?!

Anyway, rant over. Fortunately, Monkeyman is MY child, my responsibility, and me and his dad feels the same. So I'll try to ignore the working moms telling me that he NEEDS to go to school, and that I have to FORCE him to stay (by leaving him behind crying). Thank God that I do not HAVE to do that. That I do not HAVE to accept that as the only (and thus the best) choice for my child. That I do have other options. And Thank God that I have the strength to follow my instincts, rather than the pressure of society.

My country, South Africa

Firstly, I want to say something about the comments on Blogger. I'm not ignoring anyone. It's just that I am unable to reply to comments for some time now. There's apparently a work-around this bug of Blogger, but I have to go research it first. So in the meantime, thank you for all comments, and sorry for not replying. John, particularly thanx to you for the invitation on my previous post, and the link. I'm definitely going to look into that!

Today, it's not all about the kids. Today, this post is about me. Or rather, about my country. About South Africa. There's actually so much to say, that I think I'll split it over a few posts. So this one would just be an "overview", and then I'll go into detail into each of the points I make. Please remember that this is strictly only my opinion. I do not have any political analysing experience. I base most of my opinions on the intensive research I have done over a 6-month period, the experience I gained from living in this country for almost 40 years, and my own deduction powers. I have read many books, many blogs, many sites and many articles. I have looked at oposing positions. Liberals, right-winged, neutrals, from all races and interest groups. I've watched a few programs, and a number of Youtube video's. I feel comfortable that I have a fair understanding of what's going on now. Something I did not have 6 months ago. Because I was never, ever interested in politics. And up until 6 months ago, I preferred hiding my head in the sand because it was all too upsetting to deal with. To face reality.

I never wanted to know who and what each political party is about. It didn't interest me at all. I found it boring, deceitful, and had no desire to try and understand politicians' emotions or motivations. I voted, of course yes, because I was taught that that's the right thing to do. But I never really went into politics more than a basic, shallow understanding. Well, something caused me to look into some of the things happening in our country a while ago. One thing led to another, and before I knew it, I was researching not only current happenings, but history as well. I now have a very good understanding of the real history of all the different groups in our country. From different perspectives. I also have a much better understanding of our political past and current happenings. I understand where our government is coming from, and where they're heading. I also now understand how the world sees us much better. This last point shocked me. I know it's impossible for all people to learn the true history of every country on this planet. It's way too much. So I understand that most people would put an opinion of a country together from a few snippets he read in the mainstream news. I just never realised how absolutely wrong the world's opinion is of the white people in South Africa. Our history, what shaped us, our reasoning, and our current situation. There's very, very little truth out there. :( It really saddens me, because I have made friends all over this world in different countries, and to realise what they're probably thinking of us, of me, is shocking and hurts.

But that's also a whole other discussion. I'll get to that as well, at one stage. I decided to chronicle all of my thoughts, in different posts, as it will do a number of positive things. One is, to get the word out there. Second, to preserve it as history for my children. Third is, to organise my thoughts and feelings to make sense of it all. Fourth is, to create an understanding amongst people.

So back to our country and some issues as I perceive them personally (not in the whole, just what it means to me as an individual).  I'm going to list the points that worries me with a small description, and then tackle each point in a separate post in the next few months. Because there's so much to say about it all.

1. During September 2011, the white people of South Africa (less than 5 million of the total population of 50 million people) has been placed on level 6 (out of 8) on Genocidewatch's website. It is run by dr Gregory Stanton from the USA. Level 6 is called Preparation, and level 7 is when there's a full-blown genocide like what happened in Rwanda. Level 8 is the aftermath when the perpetrators are hiding the mass atrocities. There's so much more to say about this...but just imagine living in a country where they say that black, marxist youths are preparing to slaughter every white person in your country. And you're part of that minority. What would you do?

I'll leave this point with the following. This was posted a few days ago by a black SAPS (police service) investigator on his facebook page. I've decided to omit his name, I'm sure you'll understand. I'm not here to stir. I'm here to works things out for myself. I try to tell myself it's just an individual. But this person seems to be well educated (studied in Texas, USA), he's in a position of power and service towards all South African citizens (or supposed to be), and given the fact that we're on level 6 on GenocideWatch....it's difficult to ignore:

"Fuck this white racist shirt! We must introduce Black apartheid. Whites have no ROOM in our heart and mind. Viva MALEMA."

Four mintues later: "When The Black Messiah (NM) dies, we'll teach whites some lesson. We'll commit a genocite on them. I hate whites."

2. Onto my second concern. Crime in our country has taken on immensely wrong proportions. I'll discuss where it comes from and why it scares me in another post. Suffice to say that me and my daughter has a 30% chance of being raped during our lifetime. We live behind the best security we can afford. We are naturally trained already to always look over our shoulder and around us when approaching our car, our house, stopping at a red robot, slowing down at a "high hi-jacking danger spot", etc. The crime alone is not only what's chasing us away. It's the nature of the crime. People are tortured, maimed, mutilated and dehumanised in the most awful ways possible. I would not even have been able to wrote such horrible deeds into a script for an episode in CSI, but it's happening every week in our country. A decade ago, it was mostly men that were targeted. The past few years though, women and children has been treated almost worse than the men. This has made me realise it's not only me or my husband that's targets anymore, but my beautiful, innocent children as well.

3. Revolution. I think this point scares me the most as it's probably the most realistic scenario. I've read many people's opinions, and if there's one thing all seem to agree on, is that a revolution is most likely inevitable in South Africa. The political analysts seems to pinpoint this date as anything between 2013 and 2020. One person suggested on his blog that it will be next year (2012), but I'm choosing to ignore this. I can't deal with that scenario just yet. But I do acknowledge that it seems inevitable, and that we can do one of 3 things. Ignore the fact that it's coming, while hoping and believing that like always, the good in South Africa's people will pull the wagon through the ditch. You can thus choose to hide your head in the sand, because you're not interested in politics, or because the realities is too much to handle, or because you cannot face such negativities in your life. Or secondly you can decide that it won't "touch" you much. That you and your family are and will be safe. Some revolutions happens quickly, and only few people die. Mostly rebels and defence forces. You can hide out in your house and believe you'll be safe. You can even prepare as best as you can for such a happening. Maybe have an escape plan, or a hide-out with stocked supplies. Or, thirdly, you can take your family and run as far and as fast as you can.

4. Like I mentioned. I was never interested in politics. I knew our country fought the border war because of encroaching communist factions. Thus helping to bring the cold war to an end during the late 1980's. What I did not realise, was that even with the fall of communism, our current government did not fully renounce their communism goals. I never realised that our current government was not interested in a Western 1st world state when they took over power in 1994 from the apartheid government. They want a socialist state. Only when they started admitting this publicly, did I realise their intentions. Only when they started to openly talk about going back to the NDR (National Democratic Revolution) in 2007, did I understand that to them, democracy like we know and understand it in the Western way, is not first price. They want to achieve their NDR goals, where South Africa would end up as a socialist state. To achieve this socialism, things has to drastically change in our country. The changes would involve processes that, in my opinion, would crash our country's economy. I don't even want to think what that would do to our savings, our pensionfund, the value of our property.

5. My last, but not least point for now. When our current government took control of the country, one of the things they had to rectify, was the inequality between black and white job opportunities. I wholeheartedly agreed with this. What I don't agree with, is the way it was done. It has been 17 years, and instead of less unemployment, better education, better health, etc. everything is just going down the drain. Unemployment has reached unprecedented proportions. The health sector is in total disarray, and the plans to try and rectify this, will cause even greater chaos. Education has been a big failure the past 10 years, and our children are suffering because of it. Municipalities are on the brink of bankruptcy, service delivery is almost non-existing in some towns and an ever-increasing burden is placed on the shoulders of the 6 million taxpayers, to feed and take care of the population of 50 million. We're turning into a total welfare state. Because of these failures of the government, we're told that "transformation" isn't taking place fast enough. So not only do the powers that be intend to implement Affirmative Action indefinitely (in their own words), they also created BEE (Black economic empowerment). The result is an even more skewed economic society with a huge discrepancy between rich and poor. Affirmative action (reservations of most jobs for people from black ethnic groups) has had two results on a big part of the white population. Some people, unable to find employment in South Africa, had to emigrate. While others lost their jobs, especially those that previously worked in state departments. Quite a number of those people have been unable to find new employment due to Affirmative Action, and did not have the funds or means to emigrate. Currently, guesstimates say that of the 5 million white people that used to live in South Africa, about 1 million has emigrated during the past 20 years, and about 800 000 is living in squatter camps. Due to government policy (reserving it for black people), most of these 800 000 white people do not get food stamps, state subsidised welfare, state pensions or any support at all from the government. Some are even shown the door when they turn up at state hospitals in need of help. Even some churches acknowledge that even though their congregations are mostly white, that their policies are to help the black impoverished people, and not the white impoverished. Because that's the way it's always been done. To put this into percentages, Affirmative Action and other reasons like crime, has caused 20% of the white population to leave the country, and put 16% in squatter camps, living below the breadline. Crime has wiped out another guesstimate of 30 000-50 000 white people living in towns and cities, and about 4000 of the farmers. If this trend continues...what hope does my children have, in this country? There's even policies to restrict white kids from studying certain degrees in University. For example, most of the white matriculants that apply to study for medicine, gets turned down. A black student getting 60% in matric will be put first in the queue, before a white student getting 90%. So I can't help but wonder...will my children be able to study what they want to? Would they get temporary jobs, like I did, to be able to afford studying? Most bursaries are reserved for black students. Would my children get a job in this country, once they've completed their studies? Or will they need to emigrate to find a job? Should we rather emigrate now, to a country where they'll be assured of a tertiary education and a job, or should we stay in South Africa and most likely have to wave our kids goodbye 10-15 years down the line when they emigrate?

As you can see, our current situation in my beloved country, South Africa, is deplorable, to say the least. It scares me and it makes me wonder if, and what, we should do. What can we do. As I mentioned, I'll dig into all of this deeper over the next few months.

Normal treatment, or special treatment?

The thing I've wondered about the past week, was how should I have treated my little girl? In particular, with regards to her legs.

A few days ago, I was waiting for my son to come from cricket practice. I saw 2 moms coming out of the school with their little girls. Gorgeous little girls of about ages 6-8. They were wearing tutu's. The whole little ballet costumes, in fact. The two families looked so happy.

Somehow, it hit me. The fact that my little girl couldn't do that. I did. I took ballet for a while, and I absolutely adored it. I would've continued, but my teacher went away. We lived in a small town, and there was no one to continue our lessons with. The teacher urged my mom to take me to the next-door town, because accordingly to her, I was good. It warmed my heart, but I told my mom it's okay. We don't have to continue with lessons. It broke my heart, which I never told my mom. But I was old enough (at about age 8...hahaha) to know that we weren't rich. And that it would cost my parents allot of money to not only pay for my lessons (with the previous teacher it was free, but in the neighbouring town it wouldn't be), but also the petrol money. I knew it wasn't worth it, because even if I was very good, I wasn't exceptional. It wasn't as if this would've been my career one day.

So when I had a little girl, I was excited about the idea of her doing ballet one day. Not super excited like it's a burning desire in me. Just excited because I loved it so much, and hoped that she too would find joy in it. Soon after starting grade R, I asked Boeboe if she'd like to start ballet. She agreed, very excitedly. We made sure with her orthopead surgeon that it was safe for her feet/legs, and he said yes, it won't cause any harm. It may even be beneficial.

Sadly, Boeboe didn't enjoy the ballet. In the beginning, she couldn't tell me why not. She just continued to be negative on ballet days. Seeing it as a chore, not a joy. I used to be excited about going to my classes. She wasn't. She was strangely not very talkative about it at all.

After some time, she started complaining about it. Her legs hurt. She couldn't explain to me why and what precisely. Just that it hurt. A few months later, she was able to vocalise it better. Telling me what they do, when it hurts. Usually, it was when they were stretching, or twisting their legs or feet.

Numerous times I'd ask my husband if we should allow her to stop. Every time though, we thought lets just give her some more time. Let her try and find the joy in it. Let her learn that one should not give up, just because exercise can be painful. Let her learn that if you start something beginning of the year, you see it through until end of the year.

So. We treated her like a normal little girl. We treated her like we would've treated any girl of ours. Not like a disabled kid. Partly of course due to the fact that we didn't know yet that she was disabled. Sometimes, I did think...what if something is wrong with her legs? Ballet isn't suppose to hurt at this age? But then I'd shrug it off again.

End of that year though, I gave her the choice if she wants to continue or not, and she immediately said no thank you. She chose to do a music/drama type of class, which she enjoyed thoroughly.

So I sat in my car a few days ago...watching those little girls walk happily out of the ballet lesson in their little costumes, and I felt like crying for my little girl. Because of the pain I put her through. She tried to tell me. Yes, it couldn't have been TOO bad, because it's not as if she was crying afterwards (or during) lessons. Or begging me to stop. She would just matter of fact telling me she doesn't like it much, because it hurts her legs. How was I to know?

Now I'm wondering. If we have known...almost 3 years ago. If we had known that Boeboe has a nerve condition involving her legs. Would we have been more sympathetic? I'd like to say yes. Would we have let her stop the ballet classes? I'd have to say Yes, most definitely.

What would Boeboe have learned from that? That her parents are sympathetic and supportive? Maybe. That you can stop something when it hurts and you don't like it? Yes. That you can use a disability to not do something that causes pain? Yes. That you don't have to finish something when you have a good, valid, solid excuse? Yes.

What did she learn? That her parents were unsympathetic and not supportive? Yes. That you have to stick through something despite it being painful? Yes. That you have to bear and grin? Yes. That you have to be strong? Yes. I can go on and on. Is this what I WANTED her to learn? No. A big, fat, solid NO.

People tend to say...don't wrap your disabled child in cotton wool. I don't. My daughter doesn't even know that she had a "disability". Or have. Whatever way you want to look at it. She doesn't know there's something different between her and her brothers. Now that it is "fixed" in her eyes, she doesn't know there's any more difference between her and her peers. So I certainly do NOT wrap her in cotton wool. I do not safeguard her. I do not protect her from unnecessary hurt because of her condition. Maybe because we didn't know about this condition from birth? Maybe because by the time we knew for a fact WHAT is wrong with her, she was already operated for it. I could never mollycoddle her because of my suspicions. Until we had a diagnosis, I treated her like a normal little girl. Then, after her diagnosis, she's been operated on already and mostly "fixed". So no need to treat her different than any normal little girl.

But then I think of the ballet. And I feel sad for her. Sad that she had to do something physically painful and uncomfortable, because we didn't know about her condition. How unfair towards her. Didn't she deserve to be treated sympathetic? And supportive?

So what's better? To treat a disabled child "normal" so that she doesn't feel disabled? Or to treat a normal child "normal" and then finds out she isn't so "normal"? Which hurts the child more? Isn't it the right of a disabled person, to be only pushed to her limits, and not beyond? Isn't it fair for a disabled person to be treated inside their limits? I once complained to a neurologist that Boeboe can't walk very far without getting very tired. He answered: All children gets tired when walking far.

True. But a able-bodied child gets tired differently than a disabled child. The latter's tiredness goes much much deeper. It causes aches and pains and a sense of failure. Is that fair? Should you push your disabled child until they feel that sense of failure? And then wash your hands in innocence and say "I didn't want her to feel disabled"?

OK, I'm rambling now. Like you see, I'm struggling with this. How far does support, sympathy, empathy and acceptance go? And how far do you push a little child? To be normal.

If I could do it all over again. This time WITH the knowledge of my daughter's condition. WITH the knowledge that her legs have been touched by her condition. I would've done it differently. I would've been more sympathetic. I would've looked for a trolley in the mall earlier. I would not have gotten cross with her when she complained she's tired. I would not have walked so fast. I would not have told her "everyone's legs tire" when she complained. I would not have urged her to take ballet. I would not have told her she had to finish the year's ballet. That it's okay and acceptable that it makes your legs ache. I would've given her more choices. Less forcing. More support. Less arguing. More sympathy. Less denial of her feelings. Would this have changed her into a wimp? Into a worthless person who do not push herself? No. It would've validate herself. That what she was feeling, the pain, was real. It would've given her confidence in the fact that her parents believed her. I think the lessons she should've learned, was more valuable, than the lessons she did learn with our unsympathetic attitudes. So I'm sorry. Sorry that I didn't know. Sorry that I acted like everything was normal. Sorry that I didn't believe my daughter. Sorry that I didn't support her.

It's in the feet...or is it?

I took the photo of Boeboe's foot yesterday. I have no idea if that's just how her feet are supposed to look, or if it is influenced by the occult tethered cord. But here goes:

Boeboe's feet a few days after birth. Clearly flat as can be.

Boeboe's feet age 2. Still flat, though there's the beginning of an arch on her left foot.

Boeboe's feet age 4 (with Mr N here). Clearly arched by now. Her left toes are curled, though this isn't a permanent thing. She can curl it easily, but it doesn't stay like that. Oh, and don't ask me, I can't remember why she has the little plaster on her cheek! :-)



Boeboe's feet as it looks today (age 7). The left foot (the one on the right)'s arch is especially pronounced. It's also the left foot that mostly "drop" down, causing her to fall.

So is this normal? /hmm  I don't know. The doctors still seem to think so. To a degree at least. Maybe that's just how it is. It looks just very different from Mr N's feet. His have small arches, compared to hers. His are almost flatfooted.

So long, 2010...

2010. Over and done with. Where did it go?

I'm not particularly sad that this year is over with. But when I see how fast my baby is growing up, then I want to grab hold of time and force it to a standstill. He can't be turning 3 soon, can he?!

New Year also starts the count-down to the new school year. Something I loath, completely. But let's not dwell on that, there is still 11 days of holiday left!

So what did 2010 teach me? That I must, and can be patient with my daughter. With helping her, with her tantrums, with her differences. That was the major lessons I (had to) learn this year. It still doesn't come easy. When you're called for the 3rd time to the bathroom in 1 hour, you feel like screaming and stomping your foot like a 2-year old. Or when you deal with the 4th tantrum of the day, you feel like grabbing hold of the nearest flowerpot and throw it against the proverbial fireplace. Or when she for the umpteenth time forgot what she was busy telling you... you get my drift! So I needed those lessons. I still need them, to cope. Every day.

Though, it's been a marvellous 4 days without bathrooms and accidents and medications and tantrums. I missed my children something terrible. But in a way, it was good for me. I believe it was good for them as well. Mr N just wanted to come home. Part of it was his love for his home, and missing us, but a big part was missing the Wii, the computer and the satellite dish. I think it was good for this technology-crazed boy of mine to be without for a bit.

So what else did I learn in 2010? That I have amazing kids...:-) :-) :-)

No really, I do!

Mr N. Ah, my clever little boy. He really came into his own this year. He got certificates for academic achievement. Not only in the maths we knew he was good in. But also in Afrikaans. Wow wow wow. I was speechless and so very proud. But most of all...I was proud when he was chosen as one of the 4 best readers (out of 29) for his class. My boy...a good reader?! I was in tears! There's no greater gift to a child (okay, maybe some!) than teaching them a love for reading. I love words. I love books. I love stories. I dream stories, I live stories. I would die without words in my life. The worst thing of being diagnosed with glaucoma, is the fear of someday not being able to see words anymore. I can live without seeing a tv. But don't take my written words away from me.

I digress. Mr N...ah yes, he did so well in grade 3. But not only academically. He was on the 1st cricket team for his grade. He absolutely loved and adored the game and gave it his all and everything. He also grew emotionally this year. Getting a maturity and understanding that surprised me. I love getting to see glimpses of the man he is going to be one day. And it makes me proud! Also...health wise. He did so well. Nearly never had any illnesses, apart from gastro once and scarlet fever. And his clean EEG (no seizures)!!! That was THE best news. If it's clean again in 9 months time, he may be taken off the lamitrigine (epilepsy medication). That would be a wonderful, wonderful day. It's been 4 years now. Of giving him the meds every day. There were difficult times, where he refused to drink it. Or spit it out. Or hide it in his cereal or the dustbin! And the side effects. Horrible, horrible side effects. It would be just lovely, to throw it away and have our son back...unmedicated!

Next is our daughter. I can just say wow. How, after everything I've done to her, did she turn out to be this kind, loving, sweet, happy and amazingly strong little girl? What did I do, to deserve this beautiful little girl? She had to cope with more this year, than some adults even have to cope. And she did it beautifully. She went for test after test, doctor's visit after doctor's visit, without complaining. Without digging her heels in (accept on the rare occasion, LOL). She tried drug after drug, experimental treatments and never lost hope that THIS time it'll work. Her faith was and is still unwavering. That God WILL help her. At some point, when we've prayed long and hard enough, He WILL listen and answer all her prayers. She prayed for a rainbow around May this year. Just after the rainy season in this part of the country. So no luck. For months and months she prayed to see a rainbow. She never stopped praying. Never forgot about it. And then, one day around October. It rained and there was a beautiful, big rainbow. She was ecstatic. I, was humbled. She has given me hope this year. Hope for her. Hope for us. Hope for the future. Because she believes. And that's all you need.

She also worked hard at school. Between everything, she still had to learn how to read, how to spell, how to write, how to count, how to subtract, how to multiply and how to divide. And she did it. She did it all. I'm so very proud of her. For sticking to everything and taking it on, and overcoming the obstacles in her path. And to stay happy and kind and thoughtful and loving and a little chatterbox through it all. Never letting depression or heartache or sadness overwhelm her. Never letting life get her down. What an amazing little girl I've got!

And lastly (but definitely never the least!), our little Monkeyman. What a great little personality this guy has. He's kind and cute and loyal. He's also extremely perceptive, sure of himself and trustworthy. He's contend and peaceful and calm. And he is such a little boy. So typical boy. Give him a car in the one hand and a ball in the other, and he's happy as can be for hours on end. He entertains himself. He rears himself! He is so easy-going. Such a splendid little boy to have. He gives us so much pleasure, so much joy. We can't imagine life without him. It would've been seriously lacking! We can just stand in awe of how fast he is developing. He can do things at age 2 that I never thought is even possible (for a kid of mine that is!). And he do it all by himself. I do not sit and teach him anything. He just picks it up. From tv, from conversations around him, from following his siblings, from copying his dad. It's just absolutely astounding. The way he plays kinect. And Wii. Especially Wii. I don't even need to put the game on for him anymore. He does it all by himself. From step A until step Z. He just knows what to do. What buttons to press, what options to choose, what answers to give. Amazing.

So beside learning that I have awesome kids, what else did I learn in 2010? Hmmm...that SA should be given the chance to host the Olympics! And that if they don't do something SERIOUSLY soon about the farm-murders, food prices are going to skyrocket as we're loosing our farmers to other countries, resulting in us having to import more food. But that's a whole different conversation for another day. Not at midnight!

So I hope that everyone will have a great 2011. That it will be kind to us all. That everyone's prayers will be answered. And that we'll all stay healthy. And that Boeboe's surgery will be one big roaring success. Happy New Year!!!