If there's one thing I'm not shy about, it's discussing the human body - the good, bad and ugly. In fact, it is a career option that I've had since a child, but I can't divulge too much about myself so just believe me when I say I can do human anatomy - like a boss.
Today, we've agreed to tell our kids about the birds and the bee's. Yes, these two little treasures are about to hear about the facts of life and for the first time in my life I'm sitting at the dining table giggling like a school girl.
I can't do this - not with a straight face!
"Of all the things I need you to do," dad says, "I need you to have a straight face."
I have to sit, and look these two in the eyes and calmly explain how the male anatomy finds its way into the female anatomy and a baby is made. Factual, no nonsense information. We just killed the stork.
Like ripping off a plaster
It wasn't as bad as I thought it may be, although there were two points that stood out which I'll elaborate on shortly. Dad did a great job, he's so good at this kind of thing, perhaps I'm so lame because they are little men?
I sit upright beside him, 'just relax', I keep reminding myself and I nod sweetly in their direction.
Wrapping things up, excuse the pun, we cover disease, pregnancy, and the fact that the good old stork is but a myth. We cover animals mating habits, restrictions and privacy, masturbation and self love (the worth kind).
Before we know it, it's all over and as we end the conversation we revise what we've discussed. "So," dad says, "we respect our bodies and we only have sex when we are adults and we love one another. Are there any questions?"
Eldest looks sincerely at his father and says, "So dad, we can't have sex with our cousins?" I hold back the impending burst of laughter by biting down on my bottom lip. "NO! Especially not your cousins!!!", dad exclaims, "Only adults, can put their privates together, adults that love each other."
The little one sits across from me, repeating what dad has just said. He lifts each index finger and points one of each at us and brings them slowly together. "Daddy and aunty X, to-ge-th-errrrrrr" he says and places them side by side.
Game, set, match - and I'm finished !!
Tuesday 21 July 2015
Her name starts with an 'S'
We have this silly thing, our invisible future baby that we
keep discussing. It started off with daddy, his wish list for our future includes a girl seeing that there are 2
boys already in the picture. A little girl that will be ours. She will be
perfect, beautiful, most wanted... and her name will be Scarlet.
Yesterday I found a mug at the local store, Pantone colours
with their names on the front. What did I find? Scarlet - in bright red. I take a pic and send to
daddy, a little joke between us, and we giggle through secretive messages, both smiling like Cheshire cats on the other side of the city. Right now, we’re at the point of certainty,
engagement talk and future car purchases with little Scarlet in consideration. It's like she already exists.
We know we’ll be together forever, this is it, I’m the one for him and he’s the
one for me and Scarlet will make our family of 4, a family of 5. A part of him
and a part of myself, but the time isn’t
now so until she arrives, we talk about her as if she’s going to manifest
herself one day. We'll greet her when she takes her first breath, as if she's lived with us for years before her conception. It’s a fun game, a romantic one, and will be even funnier if Scarlet
turns out to be Steven.
This evening, while standing at the kitchen counter, chopping carrots for
dinner, little arms wrap around my waist. A big sigh resonating from
behind me, followed by, “Love you”. The youngest coos sweetly and my face softens with a
smile.
“Please can we have a baby?”, he asks. “A baby?”, I calmly reply. "Maybe we should
ask daddy first?", I reply, almost choking on the piece carrot between my teeth.
“Really?”, he retorts excitedly.
“Yes indeed, go ask your dad”, at this stage I'm holding back an
outburst of laughter that has welled up from my belly and has stopped just before the back of my throat.
Dad stands at the table doing homework with the eldest.
“Daddy”,
says the youngest, “can aunty X please have a baby?”
“Sure boys, would you like a little brother or sister”, he
asks. The kitchen and dining table echo with the very certain response, “A
little sister daddy!”
A little sister it is, a little sister it may just be.
Monday 6 July 2015
Lies, cheating and deception - and that's just the 8 year old!
This week the resentment monster came to see me. I've been getting very used to his unpredictable visits, I just wish he would stay away!
My resentment kicked in when I had had about enough of the bickering, repetitive requests for cooperation from the kids and lack of appreciation for anything we did for them. While I've heard this is apparently "normal" behaviour, I'm battling to accept the rolling eyes and sarcastic retorts.
The fight that brought us closer
So initially I had purchased new juice bottles for my treasures, complete with favourite cartoon characters emblazoned on the front, look at me being all stellar and amazing. I had also purchased brand new lunchboxes for them to enjoy their lunch in. After the first two weeks of ownership, my treasures both managed to come home sans juice bottles. Eldest had apparently lost his and youngest threw his over the school playground wall. As punishment, no juice bottles would be reissued and re-hydration would have to come from school playground taps and after care provisions. I believe they call this Tough Love.
On this particular day, daddy lets me know about some serious feedback from the school. Eldest had decided to remove his teachers juice off her desk and drink it all - I mean everything. To my devastation I started asking myself an avalanche of questions. "Was this normal behaviour? Where could I get help? To whom do we turn for for advice? Had we attributed to this theft and dishonesty?" Along with "What the heck possessed him to do such a thing?"
We sat eldest down at the table and politely went over some ground rules, you know, things you aren't supposed to do as a contributing part of society. We weren't mad, but stressed how disappointed we were. He was our star athlete, our charismatic little creative - what on earth was happening and how did we get here?
Then things got worse
In the midst of this drama, I found myself in a stew of resentment. These kids were out of control, disrespectful and taking advantage. Money down the drain along with the possibility of juvenile delinquency, at least that's how seriously I took this atrocity. While I may be coming on a little neurotic, I need to highlight weeks of deviant behaviour, including blatant lies and mild cases of thievery from both children.
The very next morning, dad stands in the kitchen pouring OJ into their old juice bottles. "OMG, he's got the principle all wrong", I thought, "What are you doing!" I seethed. Fatherly guilt had crept in, dad was afraid that the deprivation of juice for a week had caused a rebound effect that has attributed to the theft of said teachers juice. I was furious. Did he not realise that he was pacifying these kids with a reward, the punishment was still in play. Could he have not waited another few days before reinstating this treat? Maybe I was taking this all too seriously, I never had juice at school, hells bells we didn't even own a lunch box!
Our first real fight
That night we didn't say much to each other, silently agreeing to keep the conversation on 'ice' until we regrouped at home. I was so angry, I felt like we had been taken advantage of, as if our authority meant absolutely nothing and our punishments a joke. So much money had been invested into these kids, not one cent from their mother, not one contribution.
On arrival that evening, the tension was insurmountable. The atmosphere was cold and heavy between us. We had been separated by our difference of opinions all caused by children not even old enough to remember the 2010 world cup. I stood by my beliefs and he stood by his children. Just like that. This was it, this was that moment of division that I knew would come. It was here and neither of us were backing down. Principles over being right, that was my stance and I wasn't budging.
Eventually the ice broke, short answers became sentences, until eventually I just released the Kraken of all arguments into full force. This was his life, just as much as it was mine now. If he couldn't see my point, history would surely repeat itself and I would be forced to tolerate intolerable behaviour. I was fighting for our unborn children too, this was a war of morality and parental compatibility.
"All I want you to do is acknowledge my feedback", I snorted. His arms now on both hips as we lay down our cards in an orderly and mature fashion. "The more I hear what you're saying, the more it makes sense to me. I just realised that what I did made absolutely no sense." His face softened and the corners of his mouth turned up as we ploughed through our differences until a mutual conclusion was met.
"This is the best fight I've ever had, I didn't have to scream or yell and yet I still got my point across." he says. He high-fived me in approval as he came down from his dormant volcano of misunderstanding, I had just taught him a lesson about how healthy relationships worked and killed two birds with one morality stone.
This just brought us closer and neither of us would have realised it until that very moment. Just like that, the air became lighter and kisses on my forehead reminded me that we were in this together, good, bad and ugly.
The way forward
Resentment will appear time and again, but when you don't allow yourself to have your own desires, outlet or voice, you will fester and resentment will consume you from the inside out. It will be evident by the grimace on your face and the frown lines on your brow. Since this corner was turned, we have stood united as a couple while the children have done their best to manipulate their expectations and resentments onto us. Suddenly it doesn't have as much power as it used to. I no longer give for the sake of giving, perhaps I've become a little harder, perhaps I've become more of a mother than I realise.
The following evening we had a chat at the table as we do every night, we lit the table candle and sat down to grace. This time I had something to say, I had about enough of the abusive phone calls from their mother on their return to us with her shopping list of grudges. Once again her immature remarks and the usual character assassinations began to brew inside me. I was tired of the manipulative games being played by the children, running between both parents, playing them up against each other causing divisions and creating tall stories that could never be trusted.
Did they not see this is the healthiest and most 'together' they had ever been? Tests were being passed with A's since they lived with us, school reports showed improvement, projects completed on time. What the hell were we in for when they became teenagers?
If you want to act like adults, then listening carefully!
"I'm providing for you the way your mother cannot, for that you can be grateful or you can choose to hate me. This doesn't make me a good person or your mommy a bad one, I provide for you because I can. You need to understand that I don't have a manual for this, I came into your life because I love your father, a man who loves and adores you both, a man that loves and adores me just as much.
I will not sit and endure another day of disrespect thrust upon him by you or anyone else. If you believe that we are not treating you fairly, with love or in the right way, you are most welcome to leave. Your father and I are constantly trying to give you our very best, and you just take. I love him dearly and I love you both just as if you were my own but you cannot keep bending a stick and not expect it to break.
Learn to listen the first time, apply yourself to what you're doing and realise that we are trying to ensure that you are raised with morals and values that you will take and use for the rest of your lives - should you so choose. Alternatively you can live on the street and act like a dog. I did not carry you in my tummy for 9 months, but I love you like I did. You may not understand this now, you may only understand many years from now or never. Either way you need to know that I love you, not because I have to, but because I choose to."
I let it all come out. Perhaps a personal, desperate low, perhaps a necessary declaration. I put my boundaries in place, yes my voice had been raised, yes I may have even come across in a wildly passionate way, unashamedly on team dad, but I needed them to know.
To know that while they will most likely not realise it now, there is someone on their side that has their back. Someone that would keep their secrets if confided in and allow them to cry on her shoulder if they were hurting. I purged my resentments in a take it or leave it approach, the boundaries were set and tears flowed from the eldest in a moment of clarity.
The opposite of resentment is communication, speak and you are free.
My resentment kicked in when I had had about enough of the bickering, repetitive requests for cooperation from the kids and lack of appreciation for anything we did for them. While I've heard this is apparently "normal" behaviour, I'm battling to accept the rolling eyes and sarcastic retorts.
The fight that brought us closer
So initially I had purchased new juice bottles for my treasures, complete with favourite cartoon characters emblazoned on the front, look at me being all stellar and amazing. I had also purchased brand new lunchboxes for them to enjoy their lunch in. After the first two weeks of ownership, my treasures both managed to come home sans juice bottles. Eldest had apparently lost his and youngest threw his over the school playground wall. As punishment, no juice bottles would be reissued and re-hydration would have to come from school playground taps and after care provisions. I believe they call this Tough Love.
On this particular day, daddy lets me know about some serious feedback from the school. Eldest had decided to remove his teachers juice off her desk and drink it all - I mean everything. To my devastation I started asking myself an avalanche of questions. "Was this normal behaviour? Where could I get help? To whom do we turn for for advice? Had we attributed to this theft and dishonesty?" Along with "What the heck possessed him to do such a thing?"
We sat eldest down at the table and politely went over some ground rules, you know, things you aren't supposed to do as a contributing part of society. We weren't mad, but stressed how disappointed we were. He was our star athlete, our charismatic little creative - what on earth was happening and how did we get here?
Then things got worse
In the midst of this drama, I found myself in a stew of resentment. These kids were out of control, disrespectful and taking advantage. Money down the drain along with the possibility of juvenile delinquency, at least that's how seriously I took this atrocity. While I may be coming on a little neurotic, I need to highlight weeks of deviant behaviour, including blatant lies and mild cases of thievery from both children.
The very next morning, dad stands in the kitchen pouring OJ into their old juice bottles. "OMG, he's got the principle all wrong", I thought, "What are you doing!" I seethed. Fatherly guilt had crept in, dad was afraid that the deprivation of juice for a week had caused a rebound effect that has attributed to the theft of said teachers juice. I was furious. Did he not realise that he was pacifying these kids with a reward, the punishment was still in play. Could he have not waited another few days before reinstating this treat? Maybe I was taking this all too seriously, I never had juice at school, hells bells we didn't even own a lunch box!
Our first real fight
That night we didn't say much to each other, silently agreeing to keep the conversation on 'ice' until we regrouped at home. I was so angry, I felt like we had been taken advantage of, as if our authority meant absolutely nothing and our punishments a joke. So much money had been invested into these kids, not one cent from their mother, not one contribution.
On arrival that evening, the tension was insurmountable. The atmosphere was cold and heavy between us. We had been separated by our difference of opinions all caused by children not even old enough to remember the 2010 world cup. I stood by my beliefs and he stood by his children. Just like that. This was it, this was that moment of division that I knew would come. It was here and neither of us were backing down. Principles over being right, that was my stance and I wasn't budging.
Eventually the ice broke, short answers became sentences, until eventually I just released the Kraken of all arguments into full force. This was his life, just as much as it was mine now. If he couldn't see my point, history would surely repeat itself and I would be forced to tolerate intolerable behaviour. I was fighting for our unborn children too, this was a war of morality and parental compatibility.
"All I want you to do is acknowledge my feedback", I snorted. His arms now on both hips as we lay down our cards in an orderly and mature fashion. "The more I hear what you're saying, the more it makes sense to me. I just realised that what I did made absolutely no sense." His face softened and the corners of his mouth turned up as we ploughed through our differences until a mutual conclusion was met.
"This is the best fight I've ever had, I didn't have to scream or yell and yet I still got my point across." he says. He high-fived me in approval as he came down from his dormant volcano of misunderstanding, I had just taught him a lesson about how healthy relationships worked and killed two birds with one morality stone.
This just brought us closer and neither of us would have realised it until that very moment. Just like that, the air became lighter and kisses on my forehead reminded me that we were in this together, good, bad and ugly.
The way forward
Resentment will appear time and again, but when you don't allow yourself to have your own desires, outlet or voice, you will fester and resentment will consume you from the inside out. It will be evident by the grimace on your face and the frown lines on your brow. Since this corner was turned, we have stood united as a couple while the children have done their best to manipulate their expectations and resentments onto us. Suddenly it doesn't have as much power as it used to. I no longer give for the sake of giving, perhaps I've become a little harder, perhaps I've become more of a mother than I realise.
The following evening we had a chat at the table as we do every night, we lit the table candle and sat down to grace. This time I had something to say, I had about enough of the abusive phone calls from their mother on their return to us with her shopping list of grudges. Once again her immature remarks and the usual character assassinations began to brew inside me. I was tired of the manipulative games being played by the children, running between both parents, playing them up against each other causing divisions and creating tall stories that could never be trusted.
Did they not see this is the healthiest and most 'together' they had ever been? Tests were being passed with A's since they lived with us, school reports showed improvement, projects completed on time. What the hell were we in for when they became teenagers?
If you want to act like adults, then listening carefully!
"I'm providing for you the way your mother cannot, for that you can be grateful or you can choose to hate me. This doesn't make me a good person or your mommy a bad one, I provide for you because I can. You need to understand that I don't have a manual for this, I came into your life because I love your father, a man who loves and adores you both, a man that loves and adores me just as much.
I will not sit and endure another day of disrespect thrust upon him by you or anyone else. If you believe that we are not treating you fairly, with love or in the right way, you are most welcome to leave. Your father and I are constantly trying to give you our very best, and you just take. I love him dearly and I love you both just as if you were my own but you cannot keep bending a stick and not expect it to break.
Learn to listen the first time, apply yourself to what you're doing and realise that we are trying to ensure that you are raised with morals and values that you will take and use for the rest of your lives - should you so choose. Alternatively you can live on the street and act like a dog. I did not carry you in my tummy for 9 months, but I love you like I did. You may not understand this now, you may only understand many years from now or never. Either way you need to know that I love you, not because I have to, but because I choose to."
I let it all come out. Perhaps a personal, desperate low, perhaps a necessary declaration. I put my boundaries in place, yes my voice had been raised, yes I may have even come across in a wildly passionate way, unashamedly on team dad, but I needed them to know.
To know that while they will most likely not realise it now, there is someone on their side that has their back. Someone that would keep their secrets if confided in and allow them to cry on her shoulder if they were hurting. I purged my resentments in a take it or leave it approach, the boundaries were set and tears flowed from the eldest in a moment of clarity.
The opposite of resentment is communication, speak and you are free.
 |
| Photo Credit : https://ltepas.wordpress.com/2015/06/16/stepparents-can-be-awesome/ |
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