Doula Mel

Mornings in the house

I bet your mornings are just as hectic as mine.  In fact, for the working moms with no domestic help, they must be crazy.  I was trying to explain to my beloved husband in a non-confrontational manner how some help would be advised.  Tell me if I am unreasonable here.  Here is the scenario.

Three kids in the house, 1 almost 4 years old, 1 almost 6 year old and 1 almost 12. (birthdays next month)
The almost 12 year old is in grade 6.  He has ADD and forgets and loses almost everything he needs for that day.  As soon as I am slightly slack with him, I pay dearly and we spend the time searching for lost shoes, hockey sticks and doing last second homework while trying to make him a decent breakfast so he can take his meds for the day.
So we have 2 parents here… Parent A and Parent B.  A gets up at 6.15 and makes tea for the family.  B lies in bed until about 7.  A gets the girls dressed dealing with Rebeka’s fussiness and her SID issues which means socks are ‘naughty’, sleeves are scratchy and shoes even naughtier than the socks.  Fifi is fortunately easy to dress and happily wears all Rebeka’s hand-me-downs.  Daniel gets woken up several times before he finally gets dressed.  Then its 3 different breakfasts for 3 different kids who are now hopefully dressed.  At this point parent B makes his or her way to the shower while A is getting their bags ready and packing their lunches.   After a leisurely shower B shaves his/her chin while A gives Daniel his meds which entails opening the capsule and mixing it in yogurt as he gags if he has to swallow it.  A drops Daniel off at school normally as the bell goes at 7.45.  Then A jumps in the shower for a 5 minute wash while the girls are eating breakfast and watching TV.  B sits and eats his/her muesli watching the sports highlights while A jumps out the shower, dresses hurriedly and brushes the girls’ teeth.  If B isn’t going to gym, he/she takes the girls to school with a brief tight lipped kiss from A. (He would get tongue if more help was forthcoming)

When A confronts B and says she feels a bit harried and resentful in the mornings, B says half jokingly that A doesn’t work. (red flag, A now snorting through big snozz!)
Half the time I rush out the house without even eating breakfast or else eating in the car. I am a very busy lady as well that B parent knows!  So, do you think B should help here or as a SAHM, is this ‘my job.’  What are your husbands like? 

PS, Tertia and I have been having lots of fun playing A and B stories, here is a maths sum for you guys.

There are 6 parental chores…. Feeding, bathing, dressing, teeth brushing, making tea and reading a story. One parent, lets call her A, does 6 of the chores, how many does parent B do? 

<script type="text/javascript" language="javascript" src="http://s3.polldaddy.com/p/598881.js"></script><noscript> <a href ="http://answers.polldaddy.com/poll/598881/" >Whose job is it anyway?</a> <br/> <span style="font-size:9px;"> (<a href ="http://www.polldaddy.com"> surveys</a>)</span></noscript>

PS, did lovely Poll.  Can't unjava it???  Did I ever mention I hate computers and they make me feel stupid, stupid, STUPID!

A rainy Mothers Day

I know this day isn’t happy for everyone and my clever sister said it best in her post so pop over for a squizz.  I especially think of girls who no longer have their mom in their life, I can’t imagine not having my mom in mine.  My mother rubs her hands in glee as she sees us, her girls, metamorphosing into herself day by day. I’m now big enough to feel flattered if someone says I am just like her, 15 years ago I would have been less happy!    I love you mom.

I do appreciate this mom-appreciation-day and know how blessed I am to have these 3 kids.  I got 2 bars of Lindt, those yummy Lindt balls and pink roses.  I got homebaked cookies and home drawn cards and fierce hugs and smoochy kisses.  It has been cold and rainy so mostly a chill day at home. (Check out my cozy Fifi girl bedecked in pink snuggly clothes)

To my friends out there who are mothers without children, I send you all the love and compassion and intense wishes I can. Pooh and Flower Faerie, you especially have been in my thoughts from the time I woke up.  Brave and gracious ladies, I love you all the way across the ocean.

A voice in the desert.

I don’t often hear from Him.  I suspect it is because I am yakking so much God can hardly get a word in.  I also think He probably does tell me stuff but I don’t want to hear it so convince myself my plan is MUCH better.  Sometimes I do hear Him though and it is such a comfort and an affirmation. It’s nothing freaky like a big booming voice or an angel at my bedside.  It is a sense of His presence, or a scripture someone sends me or my fave… a picture He gives me.  I wrote this last week in response to a request from my pastor that we share what He tells us during our prayer meeting. (we meet every Wednesday but I hardly ever go, will have to remedy that!) 

Being in the Desert
We have all been there.  It's hot, it’s boring, we are thirsty and desperate and feel lost and alone.  Where is God?  Where is His abundance and blessing?  The desert sucks.
I am wandering there myself actually. I haven’t had church in 4 weeks due to travels and teaching the 3-4’s. This isn’t helping my desert experience.
In desperation I go to prayer despite the fact that my girls have to come with on a cold evening after a warm bath.
Why God, why am I struggling so and why are you with holding blessing for my personal life and for Bosom Buddies. The BB crates are empty and I manage to have just enough for each visit which normally arrives at the eleventh hour. We have never missed a visit due to lack but it is enormously stressful and discouraging to ‘sukkel’ (struggle) at every turn.
I wait for His answer and this is the picture I get.
I am walking in the desert, going slowly forward.  I have just enough to survive and I see big transparent jars on either side of me lining my path. They are jam-packed full with everything I need and want. The lids are tightly screwed shut and I can’t open them. God reminds me He sends manna and quail as food, he sends this daily. He shelters me from the sun of the day and lights a path for my feet at night. He is always enough and He will decide if and when He will open those jars. He expects me to walk on in faith and obedience and in trust. I am like the grumbling Israelites who quickly forgot the miracles and freedom He blessed them with.  I am on my way to the promised land yet I grumble with each step. I sometimes wonder why He tests me when I clearly seem to fail each test and do not do Him proud.  I guess He will continue to teach me these lessons until they are learnt.

I need to be grateful for that manna and quail. I am actually and I do trust Him but I needed this reminder. I won’t pretend I am not sick of manna and quail and wouldn’t rather order something else off the menu, but it is enough for today and I don’t walk this desert path alone. I have living water, I have Him.

Last word on FLDS

Thanks for all the updates and info. I guess it just reiterates how we don’t know all the facts but what we do know, means we HAVE to take action.

My opinion has now changed a little but not my sorrow at the situation. As grown ups, we have to protect children if we feel their parents are not doing that job themselves. Sometimes kids have to be protected from the very people who have been entrusted to keep them safe. Tragic!
In this particular situation, I feel the mothers are also victims and I do feel sad for them. I don’t condone what they have allowed to happen but I also don’t want them to suffer more than they have already. Having your children ripped away from you is surely punishment enough?

I pray those kids will be healed, that families will be reunited and become healthy and that the truly guilty, will get what they deserve. Whatever they may or may not have to face on this earth, they will still have to face God one day and He will not take this lightly. I love Him but have an oh so healthy fear of Him and having to have ‘the talk’ one day before I go skipping through the pearly gates.
He is really busy with me at the moment and I am NOT loving it. I had a very clear revelation of what He is teaching me but I will share that with you tomorrow. 

PS, Friends who stayed at the Radisson after us brought home one last late parcel with boy and yellow clothing, yahooooo! Thanks to darling Ryder who is just 2 years old and his fabulous granny Jean who blessed us so.!

So what’s happening with the FLDS

I found the whole story of the FLDS riveting when I was in the States.  For those who don’t know the whole drama, a polygamist religious sect were living in a big compound in Texas.

They had very little contact with the outside world and had many women and children with not so many men.  I am not sure how many wives each man had, but definitely more than one.  Many of the girls get married and have babies when they are teens.  The husbands are often way older than them, like 30 years older or even more. The women wear long pastel dresses with puffy sleeves (picture the Voortrekker women) and have scary pull-the-ox-wagon kind of hairstyles. They are simple people living a simple life.

Someone had called in and told a newsreader she was sexually abused in the compound along with other girls. The authorities swooped in and found underage mothers and pregnant girls and all hell broke loose. They jailed the leader and some other men and the 435 kids were taken away from their mothers to a place of safety. When I left the US, they had still not been reunited with their frantic moms and many were in foster care. Only nursing babies and those under 2 were allowed to stay with their mothers.

These kids who had never seen TV, most toys, never had rich foods or take outs etc were kept by strangers in an environment completely different to everything they knew.  It was very sad.  So what is the right thing to do here?  The 2 ladies who had once been in the sect but were now free agreed the kids should be rescued and the women assisted.  I agree action should always be taken if abuse is suspected but I disagree with the way it was handled.  Why couldn’t a whole team of social workers, psychologists etc move into the house with the mothers and kids and work with them there.  The damage done to these children by a well meaning state, is irrevocable and tragic.  Imagine your own kids removed from you care for weeks on end with no contact.  Them living in a totally foreign environment? 

So what is the latest? What do you think they should have done?
(PS, read the nutjob comment from my post on the of 20th of April..... weird chick!)

I tried to be minty

I really tried to be better today but then discovered another R1700 had been spent on a different card.   It made me want to cry.  The bastards!   They have a kid and I had decided I wouldn't press charges but I've changed my mind.   Wanna get them, wanna get them bad!  I am not gonna chat today, too unhappy and I know this is just getting boring.  Tomorrow we are going to chat about FLDS in Texas so see you then.

That’s not my kid.

They say who we really are, is revealed when life squeezes us.  What flavour emerges when that tube of toothpaste is squeezed?   I am not such a mint and fresh flavour at the moment, more like bitter and disgusting.  This morning was such a pain in the butt.  I normally have Fifi at home with me on a Monday but I asked if she would like to join me in countless queues or prefer to go to school with her little friends.  She wisely chose the latter and I could at least undergo my root canal experience solo.

It started off OK, I had some ID pics done and while I don’t look like a babe, I no longer look like a criminal which is on my old ID.  Wooolies and Clicks were fairly painless, the bank was not. I also had a bank tantrum like Charlize Theron but I guess no casting agents were in the queue as no one has called me to cast for any movies. I have a certified copy of my ID but that won’t do.
The day I left for the US, I stupidly put my password in during my internet banking with the cap lock on so it locked. Now I don’t have ID so they can’t take the lock off and I can’t get my bank card. I have to get a temporary ID which takes 39 hours in a stinky queue and then 12 days. After 3 months, a permanent ID may or may not arrive.  I gave up on home affairs and went to get my drivers instead. The office closes at 1.00pm despite a  very long line snaking out the entrance. Right, I will just come back tomorrow.

I picture God giving me this little test to see how well I will behave.  I see Him looking down in horror at this bratty, rude impatient child of his with questionable language. I bet He pretends I don’t belong to Him.  Or does the, ‘oh, she’s just a little cranky’ while yanking my hand and dragging me off to the car.  Oh dear, I will be better tomorrow.  Patient, reasonable and minty.

Empty already???

On Friday I packed the BB bags for Saturday and we had no more boy or neutral clothing.  How can this be?  You girls sent me tons of stuff and in just 5 visits, it is finished.  I feel like BB is in a huge drought and whatever water is sprinkled on, evaporates immediately.  I did scrounge around and managed to find enough clothes for the visit. God once again tells me, enough for that day Mel, that’s all you need.  It is Sunday morning, I don’t have enough for tomorrow.  I know by tomorrow morning their will be enough but I can’t work like this anymore.  It is just too stressful.  This morning I was up at 5.30am doing a very long to-do list. I am going to be very aggressive this week in phoning, sourcing, marketing and breathing life back into this ministry. 

I do have faith in Him and know He will send enough for the day, but I want abundance, not just scraping by. I have seen how tough things are for everyone in the world lately. How petrol is 5 dollars a gallon, 5 pounds a gallon and is about to go up again in SA.  It means everything gets more expensive. People can barely support their own families never mind charities.  For the poor, it is disastrous.  Paraffin goes up, (they use this for their lamps, little stoves and for heating as most shacks don’t have electricity) transport on the taxis goes up due to fuel prices, food is more expensive and jobs decrease as companies start to retrench.  Many people are HIV positive and a poor diet is a death sentence when immune systems are so compromised.  More AIDS orphans coming our way, how do we cope with them all?   I feel like crying as I write this.  Things are desperate in South African townships.

I read a letter in my local paper about some women complaining that the hawkers selling their wares at the traffic lights are distracting and they must be removed.  They sell roses, beaded goods, cellphone accessories, bags, glasses…. Basically whatever they can. I seldom buy but often just give R5 for trying anyway.  I feel they are making an effort and trying instead of begging or thieving. Her letter got me so mad I wrote a counter letter.

Gary says I shouldn’t write when I am menstrual and scary but I feel so frustrated and helpless with this poverty monster who grows daily.  My letter was perhaps a tad harsh so they probably won’t publish it. Oh well, here it is….

 

I am writing in disgusted response to the letter titled “They must be stopped’ published in last weeks District Mail.
The writer of the letter was complaining about the return of the hawkers at the Lord Charles /R44 traffic lights. Apparently the police had chased them away but they had returned a week later. The person writing complained they ‘disturbed her concentration.’  

So who are these hawkers? They are men who are selling their goods to support their families. They could join the countless criminals out there who attempt to support their families by theft and other dishonest methods, but they don’t. They use their skills to make various crafts and sell them to drivers. They are not dangerous or rude, at worst they are persistent. I am tired of everyone wearing blinkers when it comes to poverty and townships. Many locals love to complain about the crime, the squalor, the homeless who sleep in doorways and the hawkers who try and sell their wares and disturb their concentration. I challenge them to spend 24 hours living in a township in a shack in conditions millions of South Africans have to endure. I hate crime as much as the next girl and I am in fact writing this 24 hours after my bag was stolen containing all my cards, ID, drivers etc. But, I can understand how living in crowded desperate conditions while trying to make a living, results in much of our crime. Unless you want to be part of the solution, quit complaining. There are thousands of projects that are trying to make a difference in alleviating some of the hardships poverty inflicts. Join one, start one, open your eyes and really see how many people live and how fortunate you really are. Wake up and smell the compassion.

From a director of a local charity.   

Too harsh?     Things are harsh though and too many people choose to look the other way.  I am sorry for this miserable tone of this post but I feel so burdened and desperate for my fellow South Africans who live in the townships.   My heart is breaking lately which means His heart is too.    I don't know where to start.    This hurts.

 

And then it rained….

Yesterday landed up ending in a rather crap way when I got a text on my phone to say I had just spent R872.47 at the Elite Spar in Vanguard Mall.  I frantically searched for my handbag only to discover it had indeed being stolen.

Between dropping Becks off and the start of the performance, we had over an hour to kill so went off to McDonald's for a play and a lunch.  I didn’t confess that bit in my story yesterday in case the Nutritional Nazis were listening. I had a Sprite, (not a diet one) lovely fries and a cheeseburger. I felt no guilt, I didn’t feel sick afterwards and I definitely didn’t think about any dodgy stories about sick cows or human waste products mingling with my food. (be warned I am a menstrual unhappy camper and will bite you if you mail me any McDonald's horror stories)

Someone eating there decided to have their own happy meal and have my bag as their toy.
I had obviously just bought an expensive moisturizer and declined a packet (trying to go green) so had it in my bag.  I also had got cash back after going to Pick n Pay to do my grocery shopping.  This is not the worst thing of course, it is my ID book, drivers license, store cards, movie cards, credit cards, unclaimed BB slips etc.  It is the enormous amount of time I will need to replace them. In SA, our home affairs is a bit like going for root canal…. Long and painful and frustrating.

I spent hours on the phone canceling everything.  ABSA call center gets 1st prize, the women I spoke to was so helpful.    I phoned the store where they used the card and they have the transaction on video.  It was a couple with their child.   They were actually also very helpful.   The thieves tried to draw a R1000 but fortunately, my pin number isn’t written anywhere.  I want justice!  I want the pic of them and I want it posted everywhere at their local mall.  The reality is the case will be very low in priority and probably just get lost.  The police station would be in Athlone which is gangland, they have bigger fish to fry/catch.

Yesterday Gary was very helpful helping with all the calls. Today not so. He is being a man (funny that) and saying all the wrong things instead of just allowing me to vent.  He even did the “don’t take it out on me” thing.   I am not, I am upset, I am cross, I am frustrated, I have dry skin (my face cream gone) and my back and lower abdomen are achy.  I will apologize later of course but I wish he would take lessons from me and just be quiet when one's spouse is being unreasonable or tantruming.  He tends to unwittingly wave the red flag in front of my already snorting big snozz.  I know I have little chance of doing anything at all but I am still going to go down to the police station and open a case, I have to do something. I am also going to sulk more and eat lots today. Fortunately for Gary he is going to work so doesn’t have to deal with my behavior. Cross!

Ballerina Becks

Remember ages ago I asked your advice about whether I should enter Rebeka into the Cape Town
Ballet Eisteddfod?   I was so worried she would feel too pressured or nervous.  I was worried she would freeze in nerves and fear and not be able to perform.  I wasn’t worried how I would feel if she didn’t perform, but knowing her, I was concerned how she would feel.  I had visions of years of therapy.  One of you wise ladies told me to at least give her the chance and not stifle her by being over protective of her shyness. I asked her if she wanted to enter and she was keen so today was the big day.

Fortunately it is yet another public holiday in SA today (we have billions of them!) so the whole family could go.  It was all the way in Sea Point and the wind was howling.   I dropped her off and told her how extremely proud I was of her attending and we had a little prayer before I left her with her teacher.

We took our seats a while later and I watched all the little girls knowing she was last up.  I was nervous and excited and could hardly wait.  Finally it was her turn and out she came, very serious and very controlled.  She gave me a big smile before closing her little mouth and proceeded to dance like a star.  She really surprised me and I was so proud of my girlie.   Later I asked her why she only gave a quick smile and she answered she was worried her wiggly tooth would fall out. Isn’t that the cutest thing!  She wiggles it constantly and I tell her I will cry when it falls out as she will be big then.  I’m not ready, it feels like she just cut that 1^st tooth.  I am SO proud of my Rebeka girl.

We went to the Waterfront for an ice-cream afterwards but Fifi was over tired and miserable.  (Click on the pic and see that whiny little Fifi face)   In my head we were the perfect family watching the boats eating ice-cream but in reality I had a whiny tired 3 year old, neurotic husband who was worried they would fall into the harbour and a bored pre-teen who wanted to go home.   The girls are now both sleeping in the car which means fun and games later tonight.  Today was a good day, I am tucking it away in my extra special folder in my mental memory box to take out and savour every so often.  So very grateful, thank you God.