So Close

To nap or not to nap, that is the question..

Ok, we haven’t done this for a while, and I know you really want to: I need me some assvice.

Should I, or should I not give up our midday naps?

The Background:

The get home from school at 12:30, have lunch and then I put them down for a nap at 1. They fall asleep almost straight away and have a good, deep sleep until about 2:10 from which time we start waking them up. Waking them up can take anywhere between 10 minutes (Kate) and 30 minutes (Adam). They seem to LOVE their midday nap and it is a real battle to get them up.

The Problem:

They are simply NOT tired when it comes to bed time at night. It takes me forever to get them to go to sleep. The last two nights Kate has only gone to sleep at 9:30!!! That is too late. Oh, they wake up at about 7 – 7:30 am.

The Routine:

5:45 Supper

6:10-6:45 Bath

6:45 – 7:30 Watch TV and have some milk out of a cup. OK, A BOTTLE.

7:30-8:00 They are allowed to play in their room for 30 minutes, which they do

8:00 Wees and into bed.

8:15 Someone needs a poo

8:20 Someone else needs a wee

8:30 Someone needs to tell me something URGENTLY

8:45 I threaten to call their father if they don’t go to sleep THIS VERY MINUTE

8:50 I threaten to call their father if they don’t go to sleep THIS VERY MINUTE

9:00 I threaten to call their father if they don’t go to sleep THIS VERY MINUTE

9:01 Eventually their father hears (he is watching TV in the lounge, I am on the computer two doors down from their room) and shouts at them to go to bed, which they do. He then moans at me and says “this shit at night has got to stop”. Sometimes, depending on my mood, I swear at him inside my head. Other times I just have another sip of my wine and pretend I can’t hear him.

Arguments for giving up the nap:

• See above

Arguments for keeping the nap:

• They are really tired when they get home from school (although they do seem to catch a second wind pretty soon)
• I LOVE LOVE LOVE having a break from them during weekends and when I am around.
• Don’t preschoolers need to nap?

Help! I am almost scared to give up the day time nap because once its gone, its gone and I do so love that little break. Poll to follow….

Actually, rereading what I've just written, plus watching the video, I realize the real problem is that I am a total pushover and an asshole and I need to get much firmer about going to bed.  Rats! But ok, lets assume I am going to get stricter, do you think the nap should stay or go?

PS Please don't be fooled by their acquiescence in this video, they were back to tell me something 5 minutes later (if you can't see the video yet, come back in a while, it says it is still processing, whatever that means)

Home sweet home

Ah, home sweet home.  It is fabulous to be home.  I've done a few loads of washing, I've been to Woollies to stock the fridge and I am about to plough through my inbox with my super dooper always-on FAST DSL connection.  Life is good.

I've put a few pics up at my Flickr account - see here if you don't mind seeing other people's holiday snaps.  You can thank me for not uploading the 745 photos Marko took of the ducks. 

Speaking of Marko, he is such an odd chap.  I suppose being a 'people' person, I don't quite get it, but inside that tough, strict, almost-bordering-on-unfriendly exterior, beats a really soft, kind heart.  Marko is SUCH an animal lover.  He loves all animals.  He took a million photos of the ducks, he befriended a wild cat who he named Storm and lovingly fed every morning and night (his mean, cruel wife said NO WAY ARE WE BRINGING THAT CAT HOME).  When I caught him feeding my expensive Woollies biltong to a stray dog I nearly had a heart attack.  One night I saw him slip outside with some bread in his hand.  "Where are you going", I asked.  "Um, to feed that big fish I saw earlier" he sheepishly replied.  Apparently he had also befriended a huge fish in the stream.  The fish was so 'tame' (according to Marko), that it let him stroke it.  Although that was the end of the friendship because when Marko went back with the bread, the fish was no where to be found.  I hope it didn't end up wrapped in newspaper, served with some nice hot chips/fries on the side.

Here is a picture of Marko's ducks and Storm.  Unfortunately we never did get a picture of the fish.

Where's Waldo?

Barefoot in Africa

I was chatting to my neighbour yesterday and she said that she had no idea what size shoe her (almost) four year old twins now are.  Her twins, like mine, have not worn shoes ONCE in the last six months or so.  It reminded me again about the conversation we had recently about going barefoot.  Like the kids, I love being barefoot.  I love having free feet. Marko hates being barefoot and as a result has the most pathetic feet ever. Lily-white, soft and fragile. What a total naff! Not a true African!

Now that the weather is changing and winter is approaching, it is time to start thinking about shoes again.  I can't tell you how many pairs of shoes the kids have never worn, and have now outgrown.  I think I am going to stick to slippers for insides and wellington boots for outside.

But in the meantime, we are loving the gorgeous Autumn weather that allows us to go barefoot for a just a little while longer

(As you can see, we don't worry too much about matching outfits or coordinated clothes. Comfort is key!)

Updated to answer your questions:  Firstly, I must say that I do wear shoes when I go out. My post made it sound as if I don't ever wear shoes, I do.  But any opportunity to take them off, and the feet go free!  As for the kids, they don't wear shoes to school, only about 25% of the kids wear shoes to school and by the time the moms pick them up, almost all of them are barefoot.  But that is play school.  I am not sure how it works in big school.  Sister Mel?  What are the rules?  As for going to the shop etc, there aren't any rules against being barefoot.  You don't see any adults walking barefoot, but many of the kids are.  As for it being too hot to walk outside, yes, that sometimes happens. But I almost always park underground (I HATE getting into a hot car) and if we do have to walk on hot pavements I always ask them whether the ground is too hot. Adam usually says no and Kate usually says yes. If both of them say yes, I just carry them both. I have strong arms.

Weekends are for___________ (fill the blank)

Adam has an amazing repertoire of bedtime delaying tactics. He has just come to tell me, with great dramatic effect, that HE CAN’T HOP ON ONE FOOT!! I told him to hop right back into bed or else I am calling his father. Yes, I handle discipline by avoiding the issue and making Marko the bad guy.

Speaking of my dear husband, Marko and I are frighteningly alike in many ways. People often remark how amazing it is that two such anal people who were from completely different backgrounds managed to find one another. Appropriately enough, we met at a bar.

Have I ever told you that Marko doesn’t drink? He drank when I met him and gave up three weeks later. I think that could be construed as false advertising.

Anyway, as I was saying, Marko and I are a lot alike about a lot of things. But we are very different when it comes to other things. Like weekends, and how they should be spent.

Marko feels that weekends are about chilling, watching TV, sleeping in and cuddling. In other words, being lazy relaxing. I believe that weekends are for getting up early, doing a load of washing, spring cleaning the study, sorting out the toy boxes, sorting through the old clothes, tidying up the cupboards, doing all the chores, fixing up what needs to be fixed up, returning emails etc. In other words, getting things done. 

I do realize that perhaps there is a small chance that my view on weekends might be marginally annoying, and so I try to pencil in some cuddling and quality time between 8 and 8:15am. On a Saturday. Weather dependent.

What are your views? Do you and your partner agree? Complete the sentence:

Weekends are for _____________?

Perfect

I had one of those days today where I again realized how damn lucky I am. I am blessed a million times over to have my gorgeous children and my wonderful husband. I live in a lovely home, in a pretty suburb in a beautiful country. Another perfect day in paradise.  I am so, so lucky.  Words just aren't enough sometimes. My heart is full.

We bought these bicycles two years ago, when the kids were a year old. I think they were on sale.  Probably. Marko took them out the shed today and taught the kids how to ride.  Adam got it straight away and although Kate at first refused to accept that one actually has to PEDDLE to make the bike go forward, she got it eventually.  I thought my heart was going to burst.  When did my babies get so big???



Adam is totally in love with his new bike. So much so that it had to sleep next to him tonight.

PS  Poor Kate had a nasty fall today (hence the band aid on the chin). Bloody Bruno knocked her over in his haste to mount the neighbour's dog and she scraped her chin on the wall.  Bloody asshole!  (Bruno, not Kate)

PPS Re Adam's revolting silky red shorts - hideous I know. He loves them.  Twenty five ront from A C Kermans.

Report Card

Hello all, sorry I’ve been MIA. We’ve had an interesting week. Adam woke up puking on Tuesday morning and although he seemed perfectly fine between pukes, he couldn’t seem to keep anything down. Took him off to the absolutely divine Dr Etienne who said that it looked like he was getting dehydrated and he wanted to run some tests on him. An hour later we were admitted and spent the night on a drip. It wasn’t anything too serious (faecal loading – the anal retentiveness is clearly hereditary) and by the next morning we were both bouncing off the walls.  Needless to say I didn’t get much sleep. Anywayyyyy, we are all home and happy to have a long weekend.

Speaking of which, is Easter a big thing there? Its quite a big thing here. Many of the shops are closed today and we all have a lovely long weekend.  And the whole Global Warming thing MUST be true because it is a PERFECT autumn day here in Cape Town, hot, no wind, stunning blue skies. That is the weather we usually have in the week and by the time the weekend arrives, it is windy and shitty. But not today. Having the in laws over for a braai today. Because that is what South Africans do on a lovely hot day, we braai.

So, Adam and Kate got their report card yesterday. The lovely teacher put together a ‘memory book’ of their first term at school and it is SO sweet. It is such a lovely thing to do. Little stories, some of their art work. A few photos. It is something I will treasure forever.

Here is Kate’s report:

“Kate is doing very well at school. She is a very feisty little girl that knows what she wants. Kate sometimes needs encouragement to follow the routine of the rest of the school – she likes to complete activities at her pace.

If she is enjoying an activity you can feel her excitement and her the chattering and laughter. She will join the other children in various games, often trying to lead”

Here is Adam’s report:

“Adam enjoys doing art activities, but likes me to encourage him as he works. He is very particular about what colours he wants and if we work with glue he wants his brush to be clean and not dirty his hands.

Since the beginning of the Term, he has settled into the school routine and is willing to approach most activities eagerly”

Yip, that’s my children there. Feisty and Particular. Just about sums them up perfectly.

Well, off to prepare for the braai (i.e. open the champagne).  Poor Marko has done so much prep work, including patching the blow up paddling pool that he spent two hours setting up and Shelly and Peter annihilated in two seconds. 

Have a lovely Easter, hope the bunny brings you lots of lovely eggs.

PS To Sister Mel – notice how the cycle of abuse continues – all the other girls have pretty swimming costumes and Kate is wearing too small shorts. Just like mom. Poor Kate. At least they are girly shorts.  Could be worse, could be yellow PT shorts from Pep Stores like You Know Who did to me.

Marko: Not a big chatter

On Monday the teacher mentioned that Thursday was baking day at school and all the kids were invited, even the Monday, Wed and Friday kids. Because I had already arranged to go to the Geek Girls lunch (which was very, very nice btw), I asked Marko to fetch them from school. First time he has done so. Which made me VERY nervous. (Anal / sensory / anxious part of me gets very nervous when things out of the ordinary happen. Must Not Deviate from The Plan. EVER.)

Because Marko had never been to the school before, I insisted we drive past the school the night before. “There is the school. This is where you park, and here is where you wait…”

I’ve been sending him reminders the whole week: Do NOT be late. Make sure you are waiting outside the gate at 12:05pm SHARP. The gates will open at 12:10pm, and you need to be right there, among the first to enter the school. (All the kids wait on their chairs for their moms or dads to fetch them, and it is very distressing for them if their moms are late) I told the kids in the morning that their dad was going to fetch them and how exciting it would be.

I reminded him via email, text message and telephone. I called him on the way there to make sure he was on his way (Oh my word, I am VERY painful). Totally unnecessary of course, as Marko is exceptionally reliable and as anal punctual as I am. I told him to call me once he had dropped them off at home to let me know how it went.

And I waited, and waited and eventually at 2, I couldn’t stand it anymore. I called him, “so! How did it go!” Fine, he says. “Well, what did they say? Were they excited? How did it go?” It went fine, he replies. 

FINE? Fine? It is like getting blood out of a bloody stone! I want to know everything. What he thought, how he felt, what he thought of the school, what he thought of the other mothers, what the teacher said, what the kids said, how they were….. It’s a big thing after all! The first time he has fetched his little babies from SCHOOL! “Fine, everything was fine.”

Aarrgghh! It is amazing how something can be so significant to me and so run of the mill to Marko. And how he is SO bad with telling me stuff. I have to DRAG things out of him. How was your day? ‘Fine’. What did they say at work about XYZ? ‘Not much’. 

You know, I am not expecting a 1000 word essay here, but you know, give me something! A few adjectives and a sentence with more than two words would be nice.

(If it was me, I would have set the scene, included various descriptions of how I was feeling, how the kids reacted, what they said, who was crying, if anyone, what I thought of the teacher, the school, what time I arrived, who I spoke to etc etc etc. I also probably would have been able to give a brief bio of at least 8 moms, including how many children they have, ages, what they do, how long they have been married, what their husbands do, where they went to school etc.) 

Can you imagine if Marko had a blog! “The kids went to school for the first time today.  It went fine. The end”

Men! Can’t live with them, can’t kill the little bastards without getting jail time.

Kicked out the nest

I’m not sure whether I told you this, but we have been going to weekly OT sessions for the last year or so.  Adam has improved HUGELY; I can’t believe how much his insides have matured. 

As an example, you all know what the ‘moro reflex’ is, right? Also known as the startle reflex:  “This reflex is a response to unexpected loud noise or when the infant feels like it is falling. It is believed to be the only unlearned fear in human newborns.” Source Wikipedia

Adam used to have bad moro reflex when he was a baby, and it was only once I plucked up the courage to have him sleep on his tummy that he was able to sleep for any stretch of time. Before then he used to startle himself awake all the time. And unlike what Wikipedia says, Adam’s moro reflex stayed with him a long time. It was like his insides weren’t mature enough to relax / self regulate those feelings. Which is exactly what sensory processing disorder feels like.

But besides seeing how much better he is doing, and how well he has adapted to school, a sure sign, at least to me, that Adam’s insides are maturing, is that he is able to sleep on his back now, with his arms relaxed next to him, palms opened up and relaxed. No more moro. That’s huge. I went to check on him two nights ago and he was lying on his back, so peaceful and relaxed. He really has come a long way, like I knew he would. He still his moments, but they happen far fewer.

And so it shouldn’t have come as the big shock that it did when his OT said to me on Tuesday that she thinks it is time for Adam to stop his OT sessions, at least for now. She said that all the behaviour she is seeing from him is normal three year old behaviour, and nothing that is alarming or unusual. She said that children like Adam would always come back to OT at different times in their lives, for a ‘top up’ of sorts, but for now he was ready to be released.

I was caught completely unaware. “Stop the sessions? You mean not come anymore?? I am not sure I am ready for that. Can’t we rather taper off slowly than stop?” I asked. She nodded her head knowingly and said “ah yes, when I get that type of reaction from the parents, I know that we need to carry on a bit longer. You are welcome to come for as long as you feel comfortable”. And then I felt a bit silly. After all, this is not about me, it’s about him.

But you see, those weekly sessions were my crutch. As long as we were going to OT once a week, I felt like I had it under the control. Remember how I stopped going about a year ago, and how sorry I was afterwards? Well, remembering back on that time, I wasn’t sure I was ready to be kicked out the nest. 

But as the days have gone past since the Tuesday shock, I have had a chance to digest the news. I think perhaps we will stop going for a while. See how it goes. He is doing exceptionally well, and I know from my own experience that with time not only do your insides mature, but you learn how to control your insides (and outside) a lot better. So we will stop for a while. And if we need it again, I will be back there in a heartbeat. 

It’s scary, but I am quite sure we can do this together. As Adam says, “Adam is a big boy now”. He is a big boy, and he makes his mommy very very proud.

Three is definitely worse than Two

If you were in the Durbanville Woolworths yesterday afternoon at about 17:30, I apologize profusely for what was appalling bad behaviour on the part of my children. The girl child in particular. I am afraid I missed the opportunity to nip it in the bud, and before long I lost complete control of the situation. Revoltingly embarrassing behaviour. I would have left the shop, but I was at the check out already and it was either have the family go without supper that evening, or subject my fellow shoppers to a bratty three year old yelling at the top of her voice I DON’T WANT TO KEEP QUIET, I JUST WANT TO CRY. WAAAAAHHHAAAAAAAAA!!!

I am a pretty relaxed mother when it comes to children running amok, but even *I* was embarrassed. I could feel everyone looking at us (pretty hard to ignore when Kate was SCREECHING at the top of her lungs). The more I said, through gritted teeth, ‘keep quiet, you are being very naughty’, the more she screeched “I DON’T WANT TO KEEP QUIET, I JUST WANT TO CRYYYYYYY”. WAAAAAA HHAAAAAAAAAAA

It.Was.Horrendous. Horrendous. My stomach actually turns when I think back on it.

I had Kate by one arm, digging my fingers into the flesh of her arm, trying to stop her from screeching, and at the same time, Adam was running up and down the check out line, laughing and shouting at the top of his voice, playing peek-a-boo with my aunt who was several places ahead of me. It was SO loud. Both of them. And ask my sister, my children are loud anyway. So if I say they were loud, it means they were VERY LOUD.

(Yes, my aunt was there to witness the entire sordid affair. Even more embarrassing. My mom bumped into her afterwards and my aunt said that she actually felt sorry for me.)

I lost complete control of the situation. Kate had started her whining earlier on, but I decided to ignore it, hoping she would run out of steam. As if. By the time we reached the check out line, she had built up to a full crescendo. I stood there, at a complete loss as to what to do. I tried reasoning, threatening, ignoring it, nothing worked. I picked her up, I put her down. I thought about leaving right there and then, but half my stuff had gone through the check out line. It was so ugly; I can’t even begin to explain.

I could feel everyone staring at us, but I was too embarrassed to meet their eyes. I could feel half of the people thinking “just give that child a bloody hiding already”, but I was too damn scared to in case someone said something. (Yes, I am a spanker. I don’t spank often, but there are occasions where I feel a smack on the bum is appropriate. I am sure that will cause some of you to faint in shock and horror, but here in South Africa there are still some of us who swat our children on the butts. But apparently not for much longer). When I got out the shop, I gave her a swat on the butt and told her how rude she had been and how angry I was with her. I told her that I was very upset with her and that I couldn’t actually talk to her for a while. Which upset her FAR more than the spank on the bum. She HATES being ignored. (Adam kept saying “Sissy, mommy is VEWY cwoss!”) Yes, mommy was vewy vewy cwoss.

I can’t believe I lost control of the situation so badly, and I can’t believe that I was too scared to spank my own child in case someone said something to me. I am not sure which is worse.

Arggghh!! It was not our finest moment yesterday. I might have to shop at another Woollies for a while.

I know you told me so, but three is FAR FAR worse than two. Kate is unbelievable. I can not believe how defiant she is. Unreal. If this is a taste of what is come with the teen years, then I am very, very afraid.

(I know my sister is going to enjoy this story because she has been telling me for months that three is worse than two. Her sweet, angelic Sofia as also turned into a whiny, defiant little so-and-so as well. I am sure it’s a girl thing. Although I am sure *I* was never like that. Right?)