So Close

Was it as good for you as it was for me?

Apparently, as humans we are programmed to respond to a baby’s cry. The sound of a baby crying invokes a physical reaction within ourselves, to varying degrees between individuals. It makes you feel physically uncomfortable, it can make you (usually the mother of the crying baby) feel anxious, hyper alert, distressed. There are very few people who find the sound of a crying baby melodic and relaxing. This is all part of our biological makeup as human babies are dependant on adults for their survival and the only way a baby knows how to communicate is by crying. So nature has literally designed us in a way that we are forced to take care of our young.

 

When my kids were little, I had that part of my primal self turned on super high alert. Part due to post natal depression, part due to post traumatic stress after IF and the loss of Ben, and part due to the fact that I am an anxious person anyway, my receptors were turned on Super High. It was not a nice time. Every time my children cried, I had an extreme physical reaction, it actually felt physically painful inside. It felt like some had rushed in and grabbed in my heart in a vice and turned it hard. Very tough. 

 

But as time has gone by, that extreme reaction has lessoned. I suppose as the kids become more verbal, I feel confident that I don’t need to overreact. I know now that they can tell me if they are cold, hot, sore, sick etc. Plus now they are old enough to be full of shit, so some of that crying is FAKE! Sneaky little shits.

 

But it is amazing how that instinct, that deep inside stuff remains. I see it at night. I will be asleep, snoring with mouth hanging open beautifully a slumber thanks to my glass of Chardonnay and half a sleeping pill, and my kids just go ‘ah’ in the night and my eyes snap open, my breathing stops and my heart beats faster. I lie there, in a state of absolute readiness, waiting to hear if the ‘ah’ is followed up by a serious cry or not. If it was just a brief bad dream, or talking in their sleep, I go back to sleep, but if it something more serious, I get up. Even in my sleep, I have that instinct turned on.

 

Marko- not so much.

 

On Friday night, someone (MARKO!!!) forgot to put Adam’s nappy on, so he woke up in the middle of the night crying because he was sopping wet. I got up, stripped the linen, put on clean sheets, undressed him, put on new PJ’s, a nappy, gave him a kiss and a hug and went back to sleep. I got up later for a bad dream (Kate). 

 

On Saturday night, Kate woke up crying because she had a sore tummy. I got up, took her to the loo to make a poo, gave her some medicine, lay with her for half an hour and went back to sleep. I think I woke up later for a bad dream as well. Last night was a disaster as Adam woke up coughing, Kate had a bad dream and one other incident that I can’t even remember.

 

Marko wakes up in the morning and says “how was the night?” (Meaning, how did you sleep, how were the kids?) This despite the fact that the man sleeps 20 cm away from me (where oh where is my king size bed), in a room only a few meters away from his children’s room. Clearly that instinct thing is not as switched on for him as it is for me.

 

How was the night? Clearly not as good for me as it was for you, my darling.

 

Men – annoying little fuckers. Can’t live with them, can’t kill them either.

American Politics – A fascinating show

Let me start this off by saying that the political situation in South Africa is hardly a shining beacon of political nirvana. We’ve just had our existing president yanked from under our noses, ‘recalled’ and replaced by temporary one (who appears to be quite sensible, thank goodness) until April, at which time he will be replaced by the leader of the ruling party, a man of exemplary moral fibre. Husband and lover to at least four ‘official’ wives and several girlfriends, father to at least 18 children, he has been implicated in several fraud cases, knowingly slept with a HIV positive woman two years ago without protection, showering afterwards to prevent infection. So, take this from where it comes….

 

After months of resistance, on Friday night I eventually succumbed to the hype of American politics and wasted a good hour and a half trawling various blog posts and video clips about your presidential hopefuls and their running mates. 

 

American politics has always fascinated me. Actually, to this day, I still can’t understand how there can be only two (major) parties who apparently represent an either / or view on a variety of enormously diverse topics. I am fascinated how if you are a Republican, or a Democrat, it means you are for or against a check list of issues as diverse as abortion, debt relief, foreign policy, etc etc. How can one political party represent so much of who you are? How is that even possible? As I said, I don't quite get how it works there.

 

But I think therein lies part of my answer – here in South Africa, if you vote ANC, you are not an ‘ANC’ian’. If you vote DA, you are not a ‘Democratic Ally’. You vote for a political party; but that vote does not become part of how you identify yourself. In America, you are a Democrat. Or you are a Republican. It is how you identify yourself, and especially at a time like this. If being one or the other is part of how you identify yourself, then I suppose I can understand some of the passion.

 

Because, boy oh boy, has there been passion. I watch in amazement at how passionately you defend your political identity, and to be honest, I watch in horror at how polarized some of you have become. Such strong feelings, such vitriol. Very black and white, if I am to be right, you must be wrong. Either / or.

 

I think if I was American, I would probably vote Democrat because from the little I know, they seem to represent the majority of my views. But I have to say that after reading various blog posts, I actually felt sorry for that Palin woman. She is being attacked so viciously. Look, I must say, she doesn’t look like the sharpest tool in the shed, but wow – so much hatred and nastiness directed towards the poor woman. I'd hate to be her right now. She is on a hiding to nothing.

 

You know how it looks to me? It looks to me as if the people who are supporting Obama are doing so with an almost heroic worship. From reading blogs, twitter etc, I get the sense that his supporters are practically swooning with excitement. I get the feeling as if I am in a stadium, watching the fans swoon as their pop idol comes on stage. Not passing judgement on whether he deserves the swooning or not, just saying how it looks to me.  And the poor Republicans. They seem desperate to defend their leaders, old McCain and Palin. Looking for good, desperate to defend their choice. Much less swooning seems to be going on there.  But on both sides defensive and aggressive. Attacking. Frenzied feeding, always searching for weakness. Attack and destroy. Fascinating stuff.

 

Anyway, there is no point to this post really. It just has been interesting to watch from the distant outside. I hope which ever way it works out, it works out best for you, for your country, and of course for the rest of the world.

Isn't democracy a wonderful thing! 

What's your theme song?

It is 8:09 on a Saturday night, the kids are asleep, Marko is watching TV and I've had far too much wine (i.e. 2.5 glasses of wine instead of the usual 2. Living life on the edge! I am pathetically lightweight in the wine department). 

I am sitting at my computer, working through my email and doing something I very seldom do - listening to music.  Because I am very (VERY) sensitive to noise, I can't have music playing while I work, but tonight I thought I would put my headphones on and take a little trip down memory lane. 

Its amazing how many memories come flooding back when you listen to music from way-back-then.  I know for some, music is a very important part of their lives, and has always been.  Not so much for me.  I like music, but it doesn't feature hugely in my life. I listen to talk radio when I drive and when I am at home, I prefer silence.

But if there was ever a time in my life when music was important, it was in my good old bad rave days.  I had some of the best and worst times of my life then.  We had So.Much.Fun!  My girlfriends and I were all single, relatively wealthy, skinny, gorgeous and always ready to party.  We went out every weekend, dressed up to the nines and full of fun.  We danced and danced and danced.  Hmmm, wonder where that ecstatic energy came from.....(Ok, so that part was bad, but damn it was fun)

Listening to the music takes me right back to those times, and I am sitting here at my computer, 12 years, 2 kids and 10 pounds later with a huge grin in my face.  Ok, so maybe it isn't something I would ever want my kids to do, but damn...we had fun. 

Our ultimate theme song from those times - 'So in love with you' by Duke.  Aaahhh, those were the days. 

What song is the theme song from some of the best times of your life?  Share.

Gently used or new baby clothes to spare?

My sister is running really low on baby clothes for her charity and is appealing to anyone who is able to donate gently used (or new) baby clothes.  She has a kind hearted American who has offered to collect and sort the clothes on her behalf, so if you do have anything you would like to send, please send to: 

Send to BB c/o Mrs Dawnielle California, 1414 Cherry Valley Drive, San Jose,

CA 95125

Read about the clothes drive here and here. If you are from another part of the world, please contact her directly to discuss how you might get your baby clothes to her.

Hypothetically speaking.....

Imagine if life was like blogging.  With one foul swoop of your 'delete' key, you could erase something you said that you kind of wish you hadn't.  If only :-)

I've decided to delete the text of this note.  I very rarely delete posts, but I think, hypothetically speaking, if the hypothetical person had to read this post, they might be a bit hurt.  I am leaving the comments up, because I really appreciated your input.  If you missed the debate, WHERE WERE YOU!! 

Control-A, DELETE.  Imagine if life was like blogging....

PS Someone said I sounded annoyed, I hope not! I am not at all annoyed by your comments, I loved them. I just felt a little guilty for talking about the person so publically. I am worried that if they read it, they would feel really hurt.  So I decided to take it down instead.  Not annoyed, just feeling a little guilty.  Perhaps those thoughts of mine should have been inside thoughts.  You can't always take back what you say in real life, but at least I can tidy things up around here ;-)  Not annoyed, just careful xxx

I am sure they have a lovely handwriting

My mother loves to tell the story (and I love to hear it) about how, when she was in hospital (“the nursing home”) just after my birth, she would look at the other new mothers and feel such a sense of compassion and pity for them. The poor dears, their newborns were no where near as beautiful as hers, they must be feeling terrible.

 

I’ve always been very conscious about NOT being one of those parents who are blinded by parental love and who believe that their little Johnny or Susie is just THE most beautiful and clever and talented and gifted child in the universe. I am sure all parents think their offspring is the best.

 

However, I understand where my mother was coming from. I don’t mean to rub it in, and this is totally objective of course, but damn, my kids are remarkably intelligent and exceptionally good-looking. They get that from me, you know.

 

We had some kids over to play on the weekend and I said to Marko, “now be honest, tell me that our children aren’t exceptionally gifted in comparison!?” He replied “you know, you are right. And it is not just us who say so, other people (my mom, his mom) say so too!”

 

I feel sorry for those other kids, poor things. No where near as gorgeous and skilled as mine, but not to worry, I am sure they have a really lovely handwriting.

My beautiful family

Would you hire your mother-in-law as your personal assistant?

Last week I wrote in my regular Times column that between the full time job, the Egg Donor business, various other writing commitments and the kids, what I really needed was a PA. I have many ‘chores’ that need doing that I simply don’t have the time to do - sorting out the kid’s passports, sorting through all my receipts for tax purposes, doing some admin etc. Click here to read the column.

 

I got an amazing number of emails in response from people (women) offering their services as my PA. I didn’t even know this type of service (filing / sorting / fetching / shopping / helping) existed!

 

The article I wrote was part tongue in cheek, part wishful thinking but the responses got me thinking, why not actually do something about it? Why not hire someone as my PA?

 

But then I thought, that’s just silly. I don’t really have enough stuff to do to justify hiring anyone and I can’t afford to pay someone millions just to file and sort. What I really needed was someone who had the time to do a few odd things for me and who could use the extra money.

 

And suddenly it struck me, why not hire my mother-in-law! She is retired, fairly young and I am sure she could do with some spending money. I mentioned it to her and she was dead keen. In fact so keen, that she phoned me the next day with pen and paper, ready to receive instruction.

 

She has already done the first task with amazing efficiency: I have been putting off getting the kid’s passports for a year because it is SUCH a mission to get the forms, drive around, fill them in etc etc and she has sorted almost all of it for me! Yay!

 

Its funny, everyone I tell about our arrangement (those who don’t really know my MIL) react with horror – your mother-in-law! Are you mad! But I have no qualms about doing this with my MIL. She is totally cool, chilled, non-interfering. She raised Marko, I don’t think anything scares her!

 

I think my in-laws have accepted that their daughter in law is very a little odd – she is older than their son and from a different culture. She doesn’t cook, at all (when they come for Sunday lunch, they bring their own food, really), she drinks, swears and writes about them on the internet. And they still like me!

 

I actually think it is v cool. But I do find people’s reaction quite amusing. It got me thinking, would you hire your mother-in-law as your PA?  Or would you rather hack at your wrists with a blunt butter knife?

I’ll be there just now, now now.

I am not sure if you do this over there, but here in South Africa we have a few unique expressions we use to indicate timing – ‘now now’ and ‘just now’. Now now and just now can mean anything from 5 minutes to 5 hours. Confusing, yet as South Africans, we know exactly how long each means.

 

“So, I’ll see you there just now?” “Ja, cool”

“I’ve got a client coming in now now, please arrange parking!”

 

Now now is usually sooner than just now, but not always.

 

Unfortunately, Adam has yet to learn what ‘now now’, ‘just now’ or even what ‘today’ means. Our daily conversation goes something like this:

 

Adam: When is daddy coming home? 

Me: Tonight 

Adam: This night? 

Me: Yes, this night. 

Adam: Now now? 

Me: Not now now, but just now. Today. 

Adam: This day?

 

We can go on like this for hours. I cringe the days where he asks the question the minute he opens his eyes. We go through several versions of ‘this day’, ‘now now’, ‘this five minutes’ and ‘today’ until he is satisfied that his father is actually coming in the acceptable time frame, which is any combination of the above. Nownowthisdayfiveminutessixoclock. That time.

 

Want to share any unique language / dialect thing you guys do?  Now now please, not just now.

Egg Donor & Surrogacy Program

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