Home? for the Holidays

As the holiday season approaches, I become quite maudlin and contemplative and sentimental, and think about the past, and picture all the people in the world returning to family and family homes for Christmas and New Year.  It sounds soppy but it fills me with a good vibe, and I guess that's the whole point.

And through the years, I have gone to many different 'homes' for the holidays.  My childhood was all bliss and long, glorious holidays with beach times, views of the Bay of St Francis, boats trip down the canal and the Kromme river.  It was a time that I didn't apprecaite enough while I was a child (isn't it always like that) and it's a time I bottled up like a fragrance and channel it, like a sensory injection, when I get stressed or lonely or homesick for that space and time.

There were also a number of Christmases on the farm in the Magaliesberg, with a Weber cooking chicken in the garden, and my sister and I running around chasing ducks and making fairy houses in the massive garden, and mandatory New Year's day picnic up in the mountains with the dogs.  And then as I got older there were the St Francis Christmases again, this time with my boyfriend, simple lovely times. 

Then I went to Scotland, where its almost impossible not to be immersed in the festivities, the short dark cold days, the snow...it felt like being inside one of those snow globes.  I spent two Decembers there, one on teh coast of Essex with a boyfriends family, and one near Aberdeen, so far north that on the winter soltice there was hardly even daylight.

Now we hope to return 'home' every year with our girls to our beloved farm, where we spent the first six months of this year.  We left alot of our stuff there, and Ashlee has been saying for weeks that she's going to go on the plane to the farm and see Spot the Dog, and Pinki., and Polly and the cats.  and with us moving around so much, maybe that is what she considers her home.  Often when we've been out, she'll say "Ashlee wants to go home."  And I wonder, having lived in as many different places as she has, where is her home?

I thought that maybe her home is ouma's house by the sea, because that's what she mentions the most.  Or maybe she will continue to  build homes, as the years go by, at school, and all over the world, like I did.  In this era that's probably how most children grow up, in transience.

Happy holidays to all.

a Moment of Connectedness in a rather Depressing Windhoek in December

Last night we decided to go out to Spur, as these long hot days in the house with the kids, when it seems there isn't really a cool moment, were started to get to me!  So we all got dressed up and a lovely evening, everyone in this town seemed to be out and about, we had delicious burgers, Natty enjoyed her fish fingers, Ashlee jumped with her 'maatijies' and sat in a corner alone watching the kids movie with all the hype and screaming around her (that was totally delectable).  And then we drove down the main street to to see the rather minimal Christmas lights, and the tiny park that is usually considered 'unsafe' was buzzing, full of families having a picnic supper and enjoying the outside air and the lights.  Ashlee ran around in a stupified wonder, high on all the coloured flashing, and we named all the different, strange decorations like a dolphin?  For Christmas?  In a desert town three hundred kilometers from the sea??  We drove home with the windows down, breathing in the cool air.  A nice change from those neverending hot nights in the house.

So for one night even this hot hick town for shady poineer business man seemed aglow with a festive spirit, and I said a prayer of gratitude for that!

Sisters stuff

When I found out I was having another little girl, when Ashlee was nearly two and a half, I couldn't believe how history was repeating itself.  I really thought Natalie was a boy because the pregnancy was so different the second time roud, with alot of morning sickness and a little creature that gave me such a hard time, so active in the womb, bouncing around day and night so I figured okay this must be what boys are like. But Natty star was a force to be reckoned with from day one, and I already knew if we were going to have another little girl her name had to be Natalie, the Christmas blessing (naturally) although her birthday is in the middle of October.

Anyway, it was amazing to know that these to girls of mine would be able to be sisters.  I have a sister three years younger, and looking at photo's of the two of them, they remind me so much of my sister and I.  Even the hair is the same, the older one dark blonde, the younger one light blonde.

But having these two made me think of the sister bond in general, sjoe what a dynamic!  The best of times, the worst of times, the soulmate, and the one who can cause you major subconscious issues.....  I know how wonderful it can be to have a partner in crime, an ally whose there with you and understands the family you were both born into.  I see with these two girls, who were not friends to begin with (Ashlee barely acknowledged her sister for the first six months of her existence and spent the next six systematically bullying her), they have now formed a type of working relationship.  Ashlee is both bossy/responsible as well as pretty threatened by her very strong younger sister Natalie.  She only recently starte playing with dolls.  She used to shun them in favour of stuffed animals and tools in the past (real dad's girl), but when she saw Natty playing with a doll she suddenly felt it was necessary to do so herself.  Hats off to the younger sister, leading the way.

And I've been fortunate enough to have a younger sister who also lead the way.  She showed me how to be liberal, cool and interesting, and to this day brings out a different side of me.  If it wasn't for her I would be boring as toast, and hopefully I've given her something to admire.  Long live sisters, everywhere.

To Work or not to Work

I've always been a bit of a freak in the female career oriented world of today, in that I've never actually had an actual job, and worked myself up any type of corporate ladder.  I have kind of always follwed my own rather twisted, intuitive path, and it was a go with your heart and get burnt rather that go with the chapters one should.

I did get to study a Master of Science in Creative writing, at the University of Edinburgh, which was the best learning experience (the classroom learning type) of my life.  And after returning home from that watershed time in that magical city, and a recent broken engagement with a magnificent Greek man, I took a few years to metabolise everything.  I drifted around in Johanneburg, living alone in my flat.  No job, no boyfriend, not many friends, sadness and the quiet downtime that was probably necessary.  And then after a meltdown resulting in total paranoia (I thought the police were out to get me and woudln't leave my house, seriously), I came to Namibia to visit my parents.  And one night I went to an underwater club to see a friend of ours, and I met Hennie.  This really cool guy going through a divorce, and for the first time in my rather vain life, he didn't like me.  I had to pull him in, relentless, for months before he realised what he had.  And after that, things happened very, very quickly.

 We moved in together, connected, went on trips all over the country.  And after a trip to Cape Town, wine tasting, taking in the beauty of the Cape, having time together, I got back and realised that I was pregnant.  It was a total, life changing and heart wrenching shock, and it was evidently difficult for us, having only known each other for nine months, only lived together for a few months, and of course, not being married.  Hennie's parents were supportive but scared, my mom couldn't believe a such a private loner like me was going to be a mom.  But I had a new little person inside me, and that pride and love and care has stayed with me everday for the past three and half years.

For me, having my two girls wasn't the logical next step after meeting my prince charming and walking down the isle in a puffed up white dress with friends and family.  It wasn't part of 'the plan', but it sure was part of 'a plan.'  I found having these children and being a mother the most humbling, crazy, very hard, and indentifying experience of my life. 

And that's why, while other mothers debate about whether to work or not to work, weighing up the odds of having that part of the day to themselves and earning an income, versus staying and bonding with their chidlren, I don't have that choice.  I could never leave these kids, because they gave me a plan, we exist in a wonderfully draining bubble, and I will have to wait a long time before we are ready to break this.

I will Try to Fix You

It's a strange feeling when your young child takes care of you.  I think it goes against the natural maternal instinct, until the time when you yourself become too elderly and frail to care for yourself (which hopefully will not happen to me, I plan to die at sixty, yes I've spoken to the path of destiny).  From the day you feel the nausea and know that there there is a tiny little heart beating inside (other than your own) you feel the need to move heaven and earth, and sacrifice tour own body, sleep, money, anything, to care for that little person.

So yesterday it felt like a strange reversal, although Ashlee has of late become very protective of me, when she came to me, and said she was going to fix all my 'eina's' meaning all the beauty spots, and she went to fetch her Dora the 'Lexplorer' plasters and covered every blemish on my body with them.  then she stroked my head and said, "see mama, I fixed it.  All better.  Sleep well."  And I felt like sobbing with embarassment, because I'm the mom, I'm supposed to be her shield from pain and fix the things that go wrong in her world.

But she fixed me, she wanted to fix.  So I said go ahead my honey child.  In a way, you kind of have fixed me by being born.  Thank you

Oh Christmas Tree

We did our family Christmas tree last night.  Seeing as our furniture will be packed up mid December, and being the Christmas freak that I am, I decided to do the tree early so that we could have that burst of seratonin with the glowing lights in the lounge for a while before all the crazy moving started again.

I was fortunate enough to spend nearly all my holidays in a wonderful house overlooking the bay of beautiful St Francis Bay in the Eastern Cape.  These blissful holidays by the sea and the river, instilled in me a great love of the festive season, from the trees to the cards to the carols to the presents, the whole thing brings back the smell of fynbos and sea spray.  From the cliched scenes in the Christmas cards to the Story Teller special editions, I was, and still am, filled with a feeling of joy in the festive season.  Silly at this age, but there you go.

And I seemed to have passed this on to my children.  Ashlee has taken on the same feeling, she sings carols, and people smile in public when they see her absolute awe at the sight of a tree, or a Santa.  Watching her, I really feel a moment of pride as a mom, which helps in moments when I feel I've done everything wrong, and have failed miserably on the tidying up or daily routine front.  One day I hope to take both my girls to the north, to a place where you really feel the icy air and maybe if you listen carefully, you can hear the jingle bells ringing as the sleigh circumvents the globe.  Long live the depression quelling, feeling like a child again, Christmas feeling.

Koin Swimming

Tomorrow is Ashlee's second last swimming lesson.  She started swimming about three months ago.  Seeing as we've been moving around so much, she hasn't been in any formal type of preschool since we left Swakopmund.  On the farm it didn't seem neccessary, she had so much to experience that a school would have seemed obsolete, the farm education was worth alot.  And since moving to Windhoek I wanted to give her (and me) a last little window at home to pretend and sleep late and watch movies and go to have strawberry juice and go shopping with mummy.  But the swimming was something routine, something necessary as we've been living in a house with a pool, and we had to get her to learn at least what to do if she fell in....


And it was traumatic.  Ashlee is a stubborn little character, and she was vocal with her teacher Alex.  She screamed so hard for two months that I had to sit in a separate room.  And she came to assocaite the lessons with her dearly treasured swimming costume, aka her Koin Swimming ( from auntie Karen she calls Koin, from way across the sea).  She didn't want to go anywhere near her costume, even at home.  As soon as we hit the dirt road towards the swimming pool, she started a tirade of pleading, crying, begging, negotiating, to leave and got back home to Maria and Natty.  But after the lesson she always gave her teacher a high five and said "teacher's nice."  So we soldiered through for two and a half months, and she learnt to swim pretty well.  Then last week I prepared myself for the same old, but instead, when we reached the usual freakout spot, she looked out of the window, sighed and said "first swimming, then go home."  She put on her Koin swimming herself, without a word, and went to fetch her teacher from the office.  And swam like a fish, without a sound, for half an hour.  i was astounded, she had finally made her breakthrough and realised that some things in life are routine, you gotta do them, mummy will always be there to fetch you, and they aren't actually that bad.  Growth!

Scissors antics and car breakdown

It's been a busy week, especially on the scisssors front.  Ashlee has discovered the joys of cutting things, lots of things.  It goes in line with her adorably rather obsessive personality, and we bought her a little toddler friendly pink scissors, and she cuts flowers and grass and paper figures and the wire mesh of the windows, and then....her own hair.

Well she cut her fringe to be exact.  But her and I have had rough hair year, I made the mistake of trying out the pixie cut after having a baby.  Huge mistake, my hair is thick, completely wrong for that style, and I look nothing like Liv Tyler or Gwyneth Paltrow.  And it's been a real lesson, quite disappointing, how society still associates beaty and femininity with long flowing hair.  Its JUST hair, and this medieval belief has slapped me in the face for a whole year.  Having said that, I am painfully, dutifully growing mine out again, I folded under the abuse.  And seeing Ashlee with her self made fringe, I had to admire her gumption, and I thought to myself you go girl, viva the girl who has no social responsibilty.  Love it!

Last Thursday I walked over to my car, started it, and couldn't.  So the day went pear shaped, my fiance had to spend the whole morning in the basement car park trying to diagnose what was wrong, when he had tons of deadlines.  In the end we had to get a very expensive tow truck at peak lunch time traffic in the monsoon style rains, and the truck couldn't fit into the parking garage, so we had to pull the car out, and take it to the mechanic, who still doesn't know what's wrong.  It really was one of those wanting to scream into a pillow days, but what got me through it, and touched my heart and made me want to hug and hug her, was the company of my three year old.  Through all the drama, Ashlee wasn't sad or stressed cross.  She found the whole experience a fun adventure, and kept saying "mama's car got an eina, it's OK, we'll fix it."  And she asked me to take her up to the mall to see the big Christmas tree, so I got to watch the lights instead of the car towing.  It was one of those times when a child can make things easier, not harder, and I was grateful for it.

A Tribute to Maria

Today I decided to write a thank to someone who makes my life as a mother much more enjoyable, tolerable and gives me moments to get out of the house, or just close my bedroom door and close my eyes, or read my book, and take time away from my beloveds.

We have been through a rough year, involving four moves, the first of which was an immigration back to South Africa, with no job prospects, a twenty hour drive, and a two month old baby.  Unfortunately we couldn't realise our dream, of re energising our beautiful small farm in the Magaliesberg, and turning it into a self sustaining, peaceful, natural place to live.  My fiance and I went through alot, and the turning point came when Natalie got a gastro and was so dehydrated at four months that she had to go into hospital.  In South Africa.  And my fiance hadn't organised medical aid yet.  Which scared me to the very core.  Luckily a guardian angel in the form of my mum had'nt cancelled the medical aid I had had in Namibia for Natty and myself.  But we turned our dreams around and came back to Windhoek, where Hennie could at least get a decent job.

And now after six months we are moving again, to Swakopmund, with the two little ones.  Anyone who has ever moved around with small children, and all the admin and labour and stress involved, knows that this takes a tremendous tole on the whole family.  Which brings me to Maria.

Maria is our housekeeper.  She is gentle, proud dignified, and great with the girls.  She is twenty six and we give a very good salary because she is so valuable to us.  She has never asked me for anything, and she gives me the chance to try to heal from this difficult year, which in turn helps Ashlee and Natalie because mummy has time away from them, which allows her to miss them.  I try to treat Maria with as much respect as possible.  i stack and unpack the dishwasher every day before she arrives, I do try to keep the house clean and neat as I can so that she feels some dignity in her job, which is is an esteemed one, as I trust her with my children.  And in the continent called Africa, extreme, incongruous Africa, where we have unbelievably harsh real spectacular beauty and pain, its one of the true assets, that there are people like Maria who in a country where the unemployment rate for women is 70%, we can have a mutual beneficial relationship, gratitude...

thank you Maria.

The Three Muskateers and walking

Two significant things (in my existence) to write about today.  One is that my little girl, Natty star, has properly started walking at the age of thirteen months.  It's a very emotional experience, her sister really took her time and was alot later on that front., but I think the reason why I feel teary is because I don't think I'll be having more children, and seeing this feels like the end of a long, magical, on the brink of suicide at times chapter.  Having small babies has changed me forever, its like addictive despite the hardships, and I can't believe that my two little girls are now out of that stage.  But as is the saga of life, I look foward to new chapters and stories as they grow.

The other incident is that Ashlee started her own Three Muskateers, not the famous ones (i.e. male) but three kick ass girls who do things their way, in their world.  They are ...Strawberry Shortcake, Dora the Explorer, and little Barbie.  These three little dolls are on Ashlee's side in a world where sometimes thing just don't make sense, and when I saw them sittiing together (they even have little horses to ride a la their namesakes) I was reminded of the world of creative makebelieve, the worlds my sister and I created, and how much joy it gave us.  Children should play, alot everyday, without structure or interruption.   It's a saving grace for the future, because they can rely on that unadulterated intuition when they grow up, as I do now.


bye for now.  Off to have dinner, Mexican tonight, with my girls and fiance.

rain day

Today is the first proper rain we've had all summer, and the Namibian summer is a long, hot, dry one.  So the relief of the pouring rain is great.  Ashlee and Natty both apprecaited the respite (Natty crawled into the puddles and Ashlee said "rain is here, thank you rain".  This morning when she woke up she looked out of the window and said "good morning rain."  And the delight of having mummy car wet and full of  drops was also expressed.

Ashlee and I ventured to the shops to get her a new umbrella, and she displayed her usual delight at all the Christmas trees, balls, Father Christmases and cookies, before choosing a pink umbrella, like Spot the Dog, excpet that his is blue.  She pranced all the way back to the car with her new umbrella.  Joy outnumbered, and not something we have alot of in this desert town.

the beginning

I decided that, seeing as I don't have a job and am at home all day with my two children, I would start a diary of the little snippets of our daily lives.  With two girls aged three and a half and one, every day is an adventure, a crazed, polar, wonderful one.  I was writing my mom and sister emails every time something that I thought was worth sharing happened, and droning on to my fiance when he came home from work exhausted.  I realised, maybe there are others who would want to read about the lives of me, Ashlee and Natalie.

So here goes.  Fallen down the rabbit hole and no turning back.,