So Close

The evil, interfering mother-in-law

How could I describe my mother-in-law?  Interfering? Know-it-all? Disapproving? Shit-stirrer? Obsessed about her son? Painful?  

I could use those words, but I would be lying. I am very fortunate that I have a great mother in law.  And not because she is like a second mother to me, I already have a mother who is the best mother in the world so I don't need a second mother.  I actually just like my mother in law as a person, very much. I am really lucky. She doesn't interfere, she doesn't judge.  She doesn't think I am not good enough for son.  Or at least that I know of ;-)  My mother in law accepts me as the way I am - a woman who is older than her son, a non-cooking, undomesticated previous infertile who doesn't speak the same home language as she does and who makes her bring her own food for Sunday lunch.  Not exactly stellar credentials as a daughter in law.  

I know I am lucky, there are many who have mothers in law who could easily fit the description in the first paragraph.  My mother in law rocks.

Dankie Ma, ek is baie lief vir jou.  

PS Naturally, I will be a fantastic mother in law one day. That is of course, if there existed a future partner for my children who could ever be good enough for my precious darlings. Highly likely. 

 

Bon Voyage to the Fockers

My parents left yesterday morning at Sparrows Fart for their six week long trip across South Africa and into Botswana.  I miss them so much already!!!  

This has been a dream of my dad's for so long and when he had his heart attack and stroke last year, six months after my mother's cancer diagnosis he decided ENOUGH - time to realize his dream.  

He has been planning this trip for over six months.  He has packed and repacked the Jeep and RV fan a million times. He has spent a shit load of money on gadgets and tents and sleeping bags and all sorts of camping things.

I am not sure what he is more excited about though, going on his dream trip or having my mother all to himself for SIX whole weeks!! No kids or grand-kids to take his darling wife away from him.

Bon Voyage dear Fockers - be sensible, dont take chances, hold your head up high, remember your name, pack a sensible cardi, make sure you are wearing decent underwear and don't do anything I wouldn't do.  Love you and miss you!!

More pics here

 

A boot and a bottle of deodorant.

Last night Adam said he wishes there wasn't ever a mothers day because he is so cross with me. I can't even remember what it was that I had supposedly done wrong.  My list of transgressions is extremely long. It is my fault he tripped, it is my fault he hurt himself, I am a horrible mother and not his friend because I wouldn't let him have 'something nice' to eat.  Something nice = something sugary.  Whatever.  I am waiting for the kids to say "when is KIDS DAY?" so that I can tell them what my parents told me (and which used to frustrate me endlessly) "everyday is kids day, buddy".

So it's Father Day today.  Another one of those Hallmark occasions that infertiles dread.  Mother's Day sucks because it symbolizes everything you want and don't yet have. Father's day sucks because its ok if you are hurting, but it kills you to see your husband hurting, even though they pretend not to be hurting.

And yet, here we are - Marko is celebrating Father's Day as a 30-something* father to three kids, married to the best wife he could ever have dreamed of having. That right there should be enough gifts and blessings to last a life time.  But because apparently it is not the done thing to offer one's blessings as one's gifts, the kids and I went to buy the gifts they chose for their father.  Adam chose a can of deodorant (because dad loves his deodorant) and Kate wanted to choose a boot. One boot. Why, I have no idea.  Sometimes Kate and Marko clash a little as they are both equally stubborn.  The boot might have been a revenge gift.

I hope Marko likes cheap chocolate as we bought two cans of deodorant (they were on sale - WIN!), a chocolate tool set and three chocolate boots. I persuaded Kate that it was a win-win situation, Marko could get the boot she wanted to buy and she could eat the chocolate afterwards.  We aren't big on gifts in this house.

Marko is a great father. He is not perfect (like me), but not everyone can be.  However, luckily (for him) his good points far outweigh his minor character flaws. The kids seem quite fond of him. I think I'll keep him around for a bit longer.

On a more serious note - I am immensely grateful to spending this father's day with my father.  This month a year ago, my father suffered two heart attacks (scary), open heart surgery (very scary) and a stroke (absolutely mind-numbingly, earth-shatteringly terrifying. Terrifying). At the time I didn't know whether we would be spending another father's day together. Today I am so grateful to be spending it with my happy, healthy, amazing father.  I love you daddy, very, very much.

PS Max and I are watching the Baby Einstein DVDs I thought I finally was rid of four years ago. It doesn't get any better the second time around. 

*It was Marko's b/day yesterday. He is heading rapidly towards 40. Oh how I will laugh and laugh when he hits 40.  After teasing me mercilessly for years, it will be payback time. Heh.

Terrible quality pic below. Of the three camera's I have in the house, only one is working. Very annoying.  Anyway, here is Marko and his brood on the couch watching TV this morning.

The Fockers do payback time

If I think back to when I was a teenager, I want to cringe.  What we kids put our poor parents through. That awkward stage when you think you know everything, when you think you can do anything and yet you can't.  You want to travel the world on great adventures! You want to pack your bags, shake off all responsibilities and travel to foreign lands, far away from your family who are telling you to be sensible, to look after yourself and not take any chances.

Well my parents have clearly decided it is payback time and are going through a second teenagehood.  Much to my GREAT dismay!!!

As you know my parents (who are known as the Fockers) bought their RV van last year. Although I was very anti them ever leaving me getting the van, even I must admit it is stunning and I can see why they love going away in it. FOR A WEEK. Go away for a week to a sensible little caravan park an hour's drive away.  That is what you do when you are retired.

But not my irresponsible parents, oh no. They want to go to BOTSWANA! For THREE MONTHS!!  (I am actually banging the keys really hard as I type this).  It that not the HEIGHT of irresponsibility?? Botswana is FAR away and DANGEROUS.  Well, not really dangerous but VERY FAR AWAY.  And as for the three months thing, well why don't they just say they don't love me any more. FINE.

And that is not all.  I KNOW!!  It is bad enough as it is, but it gets worse! I can hardly bring myself to write this down.  My father (who is the BAD influence in the relationship) wants to go CAMPING while they are there, in the bush with just the 4x4 jeep and a two man tent.  I mean HAVE YOU EVER!  They are not 30 years old, they are GRANDPARENTS! They *think* they are capable, but they not as physically strong as they used to be. My dad had a heart attack, a stroke and open heart surgery less than a year ago.  Less than 18 months ago my mother had cancer, chemo and an operation to remove her bits. 

And seriously.... BOTSWANA??!!  What happens if a lion eats them?  What happens if the jeep gets stuck?  If someone murders them in their tent???????????  In the middle of the bloody jungle! SO FAR AWAY!

I am banging the keys really hard again.  My nerves are shot!  What ever happened to staying home listening to the radio and knitting sweaters for the grandkids?

What to do.  They are grown ups now and apparently do not listen to me any more.  Not that they ever did.  Height of irresponsibility, I tell you. 

(I do have a plan.  I am thinking of getting someone to follow them from a safe distance, just to keep an eye on them.  The person (already identified) will camp a short distance away so that if they run into trouble, he will be there to assist. So irresponsible!)

The Fokkers have returned

My parents arrived home last night, I can't believe how excited I was to see them.  Honestly, it is like I am five years old. I was like a kid the whole day yesterday, jumping up and down inside myself at the thought I would eventually see them in a few hours time.  I wonder whether I will ever stop being their little girl inside.

My mother said it was an adventure of note, she has a fantastic sense of humour, I think I should get her to write something up about their trip away. 

YAY! My mommy and daddy are home again!

Bon Voyage to the Fokkers

My parents (aka the Fokkers) depart on their maiden voyage in Roxanne, their RV camper van thing tomorrow morning.  My mom got her all clear on her cancer check up this morning (wooohooo!) and my dad got the thumbs up from his stroke doctor a few days ago. 

They are going away for 2.5 looooong weeks and although I will miss them terribly (extremely selfish of them), I am so happy and excited for them. This is something my dad has always wanted to do.

Enjoy yourselves dear Mother and Father, have fun and look after yourselves.  Lock yourself in at night, don't talk to strangers, don't lift anything heavy, drive carefully and remember to call home.  I will miss you!

Love from your favourite child.  (Sshh, don't tell the others, it will be our little secret, as always xx)

Domestic ménage à trois - It's like a threesome, only better

Stop reading now if you are feeling particularly strung out, over worked and under resourced because I am about to tell you how wonderful my life is.

My life is wonderful. And you know why? Because I have a Rose.  Everyone, and I mean EVERYONE should have a Rose. Just not my Rose because she is my Rose and you can't have my Rose because then my life would fall apart which would be very unwonderful indeed. But if there were more Roses around, then you should totally have one.

Imagine, if you will, having someone who loves your children as much as you do.  Who has exactly the same parenting approach as you do.  Someone who takes care of your children exactly as you would want them to. (And because she has more patience than you, sometimes even better than you do!)

Someone to share those amazing yet special-only-to-you stories about your children - the funny things they said, the clever things they did.  Someone who could be described as the perfect spouse (she even cooks!) except you don't have to have sex with that person - IT DOESN'T GET ANY BETTER THAN THAT!!

As I have mentioned before, the kids regard Rose as part of their family (as I do as well, of course).  They have a mom, a dad and a Rose and we all live together.  We've questioned them before about what exactly a Rose is in their minds, but they don't understand the question.  A Rose is a Rose?  Rose is Rose. Simple.

We are so lucky to have Rose in our lives. If life were perfect, then everyone would have a Rose like mine. Thank you Rose, for all that you do for us and for being part of our family xxx

What a difference a month makes

A month ago, at exactly this time on a Friday morning, I got a call from my mother. She was crying so much I could hardly hear what she was saying.  What I could make out were words that felt like a punch to the gut.  "Your father's just had a stroke. I was talking to him and one minute he was fine and the next minute he was slurring and mumbling. They have just rushed him to ICU". 

After having lived through a week of anxiety and fear that saw him have two heart attacks and open heart surgery all within 7 days, I thought this was the end. I was absolutely terrified to see him that day, but I knew I had to. I wasn't sure I would get another chance.

And it was terrible to see him. Here was my father, but it wasn't my father.  It was a tiny, confused man who didn't know what was going on.  Quite honestly, besides the death of my son, it was the worst time of my life. I thought that at best, my father would be permanently mentally and physically disabled. At worst, well.....it could hardly bear to think about it.

Well, fast forward a month and not only has my father made an amazing recovery, but he has embraced his second youth and bought a camper van thingy! Wooo hoooo!!!  I am SOOOOOO proud of my dad and his erstwhile sidekick, Nurse Ratchet.  Who, to be honest, should be credited for his amazing recovery as she refused to give up on him, or allow him to give up on himself for one single second. She MADE him get up every day and go for a walk to rebuild his strength, even though all he wanted to do is lie in bed. She MADE him eat even though he had no appetite.  And of course, she was the one that MADE him go to the hospital that Sunday when he said he was sure his chest pains were just gas. Behind every successfully alive man is a woman who might be called bossy by her spouse, but whose love ensures they carry on living!

I am so so so so proud of my parents, and even though I was initially very anti them getting the mobile home*, I am also excited now and I can't wait to hear about your amazing adventures in your new van.  Well done Pops, well done Mimi, I love you.

*I was anti the mobile home for a few reasons. Firstly, it is expensive. Secondly, I worry a little about my parent's health, especially if they are going to be far away. But to be honest, the main reason I was anti is that it meant THEY WOULD LEAVE ME for a few weeks and how would I cope without them. But them I remembered I was 40 and they were 60 and maybe it is time to allow my parents to leave me for a bit. But only a bit.

PS Dont go away for too long at a time. The fish will miss you. (ok, I really mean I will miss you)

The very impressive camper van

The bathroom. The spaz kids are an optional extra.

The main bedroom.  (Kids extra, but the mother will pay for them to go with the grandparents)

Pops and Mimi sitting up front (excuse the plastic covering on the floor, I should have removed that before I took the pics, it was to keep the seats clean during the van's service)

My handsome, strong, brave, clever father and his beloved dog Nancy

Heaven forbid you get cold in winter

Not sure how it works where you live, but over here the clothing stores start stocking the next season's clothes as the new season begins.  So as summer gets nicely warmed up and into the swing of things, they start stocking winter clothes. Which means by the time it gets chilly and you are ready to buy a few warm things to wear, they have either (a) sold out all sizes except XS and XXL or (b) have cleared the winter stock to make space for bikinis and shorts - entirely appropriate gear for a temperature hovering somewhere around fucking freezing. It drives me insane.

If you are a grown up and you have old clothes to fall back on, you are reasonably safe, but god forbid you should lose or gain weight, or need anything new because sorry-for-you buddy, all you have to keep you warm are board shorts and bikinis.  As for your 4 year old who needs thermal vests because they have outgrown last year's, forget! Should have thought of that 3 months ago in the middle of summer, you bad bad mother.

Seeing as my father has lost so much weight since he got ill, my mother has been looking for some warm track pants and some new vests for him*.  Not a thing to be found. Plenty of short sleeved shirts and shorts, no vests.  WTF!  It is only July! The coldest, wettest months are still to come. HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND, MR RETAILER??

Someone in retail please explain why clothing stores do this.  And let me know who to address my letter of complaint to.

* Father is doing extremely well, even in my most wishing thinking I didn't dare hope he would be doing so well so soon.  Carry on Dad, and remember to listen to Nurse Ratchet Mom - she knows best (now, drink that Ensure and get up and go for your walk immediately)

PS  Another pic of Max, just because.

Light

Wow. What a weekend, I am exhausted. I can't believe that it is only Monday.  And that my father's setback only happened on Friday.  It has been the most harrowing time of my life. 

You know, I owe so many people an apology.  Whenever I used to hear of (grown up) people losing a parent, I used to feel sorry for them, but never appreciating the depth of their despair.  I consoled myself with the platitudes like "oh well, they were getting on a bit", or "it must have been sad, but it is part of the natural order of things".  Thinking that although they must have loved their parents, there is no way they could have had a relationship with their parents like I have with mine.  We have an incredibly close family.  My parents are more than just my parents, they are my everything.  They are my world, my life, my rock, my hope, my strength, my role models, my friends, my muse.  I need my parents as much now as I ever did, and life without them is untenable. In fact, it is so impossible to contemplate that is it improbable.  It just couldn't be.  Other people's parents, but not ours.

Even with my mom's cancer 6 months ago, I was scared, but still hopeful.  My mom was very lucky to caught the cancer so early.  And my mom and I have always said we are going to share a room in the retirement home together.  There is only 20 years difference between us (19 years between my father and I) and she is a lot stronger in body and mind than most of us. 

And then my father's two heart attacks last week, plus his open heart surgery.  Scary, terrifying actually, but still ok.  Until Friday.  Friday shook me to the very core.  All of us.  My brother flew in from London on Saturday. Thank goodness my little sister was already here from Korea.  This is the first time in while that we have all been in the same place at the same time.

It has been the longest, scariest weekend of my life.  As my sister says so beautifully on her blog, it has been a weekend where my mother, the four of us children and our spouses have come together with each other and for each other in a way that has given each of us incredible strength and fortitude. 

And there is light at the end of tunnel.  After a harrowing weekend, my dad is looking a lot better today.  He has been through hell, and I know we still have a long way to go, but it was so wonderful to see that great, naughty sense of humour of my dad's peeping through again. We are hoping with everything we have that he will be allowed to go home tomorrow.  I know it will make him feel a million times better to be home in his own bed, with his beloved wife and his beloved dog. 

What an unbelievable few months we've had as a family.  We've been through so much, but we have also been so incredibly lucky.  These incidents have made me realize that nothing, absolutely nothing, is more important than your health and your family. I am so incredibly thankful that we still have both.