A new chapter

In the early hours of this morning I decided to give this blog another try.

As I attempted to log on for the umpteenth time in two years, the password retrieval failed yet again.

While surveying the content of my posts back in 2015/16, two realities became evident to me.

1. I really miss blogging.

2. Those posts reflected some very real struggles and by the same token, some very precious memories.

Password prompts left me questioning the efficacy of my multi vitamin. My apparent porridge brain, which still lingers 9 weeks postpartum, leaves me at the mercy of vague, misty memories of my password combination. I sat trying to figure out what may have been quirky enough to make a successful password, nothing worked and then, Eureka!

So here I am, back on the bandwagon to share a new chapter with you. 

The moans and groans, the highlights and joys. Pretty much all the real, raw and primal rantings of a first time mother (yes, I had a baby of my own) coupled with some deep meaningful reflective thoughts and a full dose of humour - because successful living requires a positive attitude apparently.

Watch this space, it's good to be back!

Growth hurts, but so does denial

I sat before my client Beaulah, she's a real gem to call on. 
She's become a trusted friend, the older sister I never had. I held back tears as I shared where I was in my life at that moment. 

I had come to the point in this instant family, that I resented the children without remorse. I resented their father for the decision's he'd made. I resented myself for choosing these struggles.

The past week stung 

The previous Monday I sat in front of our youngest child's teacher. She was factual and direct about her concerns, almost expressionless in desperation. 
"He's failing, he doesn't concentrate for more than a minute at a time", her eyes wide with anticipation. 

I cried and cried in the car park as we left for the start of our day. The decisions his mother had made while carrying him were finally being felt. It stung like acid reflux in the chest of reality, a reminder of past mistakes every time I look into his eyes. I carried his hurt because he never chose this, neither of them did. Yet I stood crying for them, me, not their parents. Me. 

Refusing to put him onto anything strong enough to alter his personality we found a short term solution and put him on a trial of scheduled medication for concentration. We have 1 month's supply of the stuff to prove ourselves and by we, I mean him. 

The night I met Zelna

Zelna is a world reknown child therapist, psychologist and kids life coach. Her talk on assisting children found myself and dad at her workshop the same night we found out about our youngest child's concentration issues. I didn't mention the eldest, but he's snowballing his way right into 'juvie' if he carries on the way he's going. They needed help, so I wanted to start with us - because of finances that is - not because the kids weren't a priority, but perhaps if we could learn something new for a couple bucks, it would help us in the long run when they got the therapy they needed. I was beginning to lose faith that I would find the person I needed to assist with the therapy I wanted for them on the financial terms we could afford. 

Beaulah listened with her eyes as she always does. She is so kind and caring this earth angel friend of mine. 

"I've built a wall Beaulah", I said, "I can't imagine smiling, laughing or caring for them anymore. I've checked out!"

I had shared with her how our meeting with Zelna had brought about a change of perspective in me, how it had softened my hardened heart and made me realise that my walls needed to come down, not just for the kids but for my own sanity. 

The only way out of this mess, would be to go back to where I started. Open my arms, open my heart, forgive and shine my light.
"Do what you do well with your children", Zelna had advised, and so I decided to share my gifts and talents with them and let them back into my world. 

My world had peace once. It had transparency and joy. Somewhere along the line the walls had become so high that I couldn't see my own light. 

Beaulah continued to listen, her kind words and tender advice echoed my hearts desires for laughter and serenity to be returned to our home. "It starts with you, your time with them, your one on one moments together", she explained, "you just need love, share your time and let those walls come down. These are the moment's that will not only make the difference now, but will be treasured forever!"

Yes, I felt guilty. I felt like I'd forgotten how to love to the point of being blind to what was really needed in our home. My maternal instincts, my humanity and my authentic self had flown out the window because of my anger and resentment, twisting a vine of animosity around my heart and suffocating my soul. 

Beaulah smiles at me and whispers, "If anyone can love those children the way they need to be loved, it's you!" And I smiled back because I knew she was right. 

We have since found a therapist and the children will commence emotional support and play therapy within the next 2 weeks. Anything can happen when you want it badly enough, and all I want for them is more than they will know. 

Nothing changes, if nothing changes

So here we are, 2016!

To be honest with you, I imagined a more space aged era, one with a lot more tin foil and a lot less like it is now. Needless to say, it's a new year with a new set of goals and perspectives.

I found my peace

If you're regularly following this blog, you'll note one of two things. 
1. It's not that regular. 
2. I've been really, really angry. 

The good news is that after adjusting, fighting within myself, resenting these kids, and acting like a complete psycho during it all, I found a new understanding and perspective when I decided I needed help. 

So, December last year, I lugged myself off to a Life Coach. I had found a special deal online through Meetup.com (a free, community based meeting place for people wanting to spend time with like minded people from any form of life/sport/hobby you can think of in your area) and on Saturday the 18th of December 2015, I found myself sitting in the home of this Life Coach with the mindset that I didn't attend for answers to a specific question, I just wanted to better myself in general. Or that's at least what I believed.


Changing perspective

As I sat listening to these other 2 ladies who were in attendance talk about their problems, I realised I wasn't really applying my real issues (with the kids and my instant motherhood thing) to the coaching. I was pretty happy with my life in general and kinda nodded through the information because it didn't apply - until I applied it to my frustrations at home. 

Let me tell you that when I allowed myself to address it all, a tidal wave of emotion came from my gut and pushed it's way through past my throat where I was holding it all down. Everything, and I mean everything came out of me, through my eyes and from the depths of my soul. A year and a half of tears flowed from my face, a box of tissues and three wide-eyed woman sat sympathetically in front of me. I had nothing to be grateful for, I felt angry, used, depressed and tired. 

In that moment, the Life Coach had presented me with a question that turned into a dialogue that lead to my breakthrough.


Life Coach (LC) "What benefits are there in being in these children's lives and with your partner in this role?"
Me: "None"
LC: "There must be something?"
Me: "Nope, there are NO benefits"
LC: "Try think of at least 1 benefit of where you're currently at"
Me: "I guess I get to build two small children into whole people, if they stayed with their mother, they would be exposed to drugs, alcohol and a state of mind that wouldn't really help them be the best adults."
LC: "And how important is it to you, that you build up two strong adults."
Me: "Not that important" (Insert awkward silence here)
LC: "Ok, give me another benefit"
Me: "I guess they are teaching me patience and how to be a good mom"
LC: "And how important is that to you?"
Me: "Average, I guess, I really want to be a good mom but if they weren't in my life I wouldn't have to do this all."
LC: "And what else?"
Me: "They are preparing me for motherhood, for my own children, I also get to be with the love of my life, my soulmate, my person."
LC: "And how important is it that you're prepared for your own children and get to be with your soulmate?"
Me: "Non negotiable!"


And just then, my Aha! seed was planted, which germinated over the following weeks and somehow, somewhere along the line, I let go of resentment and allowed myself to love these two boys without conditions, without the regret's from the past. 

One of the biggest lessons I've learned is that I had unfinished business. I felt responsible for where I am today because I had chosen to terminate a teen pregnancy, which would have in turn lead to the non existence of these two boys. I felt angry and bitter because of a lack of accountability on their mother's part to participate or contribute to their lives in any shape or form. I felt as if I was picking up the pieces of her broken life, left to fix what she had damaged. I didn't want her stuff, I wanted my own happy, healthy and whole life which included two Labrador's and a picket fence! 

While I mulled over my regrets and guilt, I found a diary from my high school years and into my early 20's. As I read all the drama between those two covers, I realised that I wouldn't have been ready for commitment or for a significant long term contribution to any relationship, let alone the one I'm in now, the one that matters the most. The string of poor choices I made in men thereafter was proof of where I was at, and my significant other was busy living his life with his drama while he learned all his lessons in tandem with my own. The timing was never right and now I realise, everything for a reason. Today we are both ready, focused, on the same page and crystal clear about where we are going, as individuals, as parents and as a team. We are in love, bonded and share a love that I've never, ever experienced before. It was worth the wait!

I was a green, immature and very lost soul at 22, let alone the thought of carrying and raising a child at 17 all those years before. I let go of the guilt and regret, and I've accepted that this is how life is. Love, is letting go of fear - and in deciding to embrace this and step up, I've freed myself from the chains of my past.

Life isn't a linear experience, there's not black or white. There will be days of grey and moments of frustration, but there is no right or wrong just choices with their own set of consequences. Life is, just what it is, and happiness comes from being where you are right now and making the best of the place you're in even when you aren't ready, aren't happy and don't know what's coming next.

So, the fact is, these two boys have never been the cause of my resentment, they have never been the cause of my guilt. They have merely been a catalyst for change and acceptance within myself. They have forced me to deal with 16 years of suppressed, teenage baggage and set me free from myself. Now that I'm passed my lesson, I'm free to be my happy self again and believe me, they are on the receiving end of a fun, lighter and far more grateful person than the woman I was last year.

Thank you!

We just killed the stork

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 !!

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. 

Photo Credit : https://ltepas.wordpress.com/2015/06/16/stepparents-can-be-awesome/

Little arms around my neck

This evening as we said our goodnight's, my little people came and hugged me as they usually do before bed. I've been waiting impatiently for them to get home all afternoon. Every car that drives past my kitchen window is followed with the turn of my head, where are they and why aren't they home yet?

I'm full of expectation, waiting for that initial burst of jubilant hysteria that I've become so familiar with. 

The last 4 hours have consisted of the usual dinner preparations, homework and shower marathon that usually ends in a dramalama between the two kids as they wrestle for the soap. 

We have a tradition that we've started that I borrowed from a Jewish lady who does my Reiki sessions with me. "Spend one evening a week with your family, light a candle and say prayers." she advised. To be honest, it's not a weekly thing but now a daily event that takes place. 

We light a big red Balsam & Berries candle and take turns sharing our highlights of the day, lessons we've learned and things that have made us happy. The rules: No one is allowed to interrupt (challenge accepted) nor to rush the person sharing. In short, we reconnect every night, and then it's back to the chaos and madness that drifts us apart from one another as soon as we're excused from the table. 

Being consistent helps

I mentioned in a previous post, that there is no manual to this thing called Parenting. There is no manual for life, no amount of preparation for the challenges we may face until we're in the situation. This has been the biggest lesson and test in the area of self discipline for me. We tend too often to let go and give up too easily, coming up with an easier alternative. Take your challenges, make them your own and then conquer them through perseverance. 

Tonight my little people hugged me tightly. Their bodies didn't move away as quickly as they normally do. My hands stroking both their backs as they rest their little heads on each shoulder. Tonight something is different. I jokingly ask if they are still awake, "Oh yes." they reply, clearly compos mentis enough to retort with a response. My hands continue in a nurturing fashion up and down each back, my arms shaking slightly from the position I hold. 

I won't let go until they do. 

It's in the small things

This isn't an easy job, this raising children thing. I've felt an assortment of emotions within an hour that I would typically only experience in a week. Eldest smacks his brother (frustration) followed by youngest wrapping his arms around my waist as I cook (love) followed by dad reprimanding both for fighting in the shower (agitation) then hearing grace being said with gratitude to me for making dinner (appreciation). 

Then it's back to those little arms around my neck. A huge sigh of relief knowing I can catch up with myself, my outstanding sales report and time with daddy as they drift off to Dreamland.

A time, when silence fills the house until one of us cracks a joke and giggles follow, it's adult time. I'll miss them, a little, and then tomorrow morning we start again. The balancing act, bickering and squabbles over toothpaste and the case of the missing sock/bag/jersey/lunchbox. 

This evening as we said our good nights, my little people came and hugged me as they usually do before bed - and I'm grateful. 

The Lies We Tell Ourselves - Then Believe

I sat with my mother in law on the couch, I've been blessed with such an amazing woman to share my life with,and as usual our home is full of laughter and playful jokes. 

I've had my fair share of scary mother in laws, but this one I would say this is the closest I've come to the real deal FairyGodMother type. Recently I recall finding a plaque that read, "If I didn't have you as my Mum, I'd choose you as my friend." 

True story!

I'm a little fibber

As we sat chatting on the couch, I found myself talking about the way I've managed to 'accept the hand that has been dealt' in the form of taking on two kids and trying to fit into their lives. I try and keep my conversations open and frank no matter whom I'm trying to impress, believe me I don't hide my emotions - never have, never will. Being transparent has this cathartic effect on me, my mom had always said that you "can't get any higher than the truth", so here I was sharing mine. I was sad, deeply sad.  

While talking about my apparent lot in life, I'm taken aback by the deadpan stare I'm receiving back from my mother in law. "You see", I continue, "I realise that I'm not going to be able to have those two kids I've always wanted, I'm going to have to sacrifice my happiness because of finances, no one can raise 4 children in this day and age. My dreams have all been shattered" (someone que the violin) The deadpan stare continues on in  my direction, followed by a wail of "Said whooooooooo?" from a now, almost giggling, in-law. Her eyes wide with investigation.

"Ummm", I manage to reply, "Well, I did". 
Mother in law parts her lips with steady focus, as if she's about to pounce on me like a cat stalking it's prey. "There is no fact is what you're saying, you have no idea how your life is going to turn out or what God's plan is. You have limited yourself to your beliefs!".  Her face now stern with conviction. 

Penny dropped, famous "Oprah Winfrey "Aha" moment follows suit. 

Change Your Dialogue

This candid conversation hits home like a ton of bricks. Yes, I've been feeling as if my mental monologue has been accurate all this time, because my conditioning has dictated that 2.5 children and 2.5 Labrador's are standard ambitions in one's life. 

With 2.5 step children and 1.5 cats already in the equation, my averages for having 2.5 of my own biological children just seemed too low to dream about. The truth is, no one knows!
Not me, not you - only God/Higher Power/Insert Holy Deity here.

Our Words Have Power

I won't lie. I felt really stupid in that moment, an adjective I seldom use to describe myself at the best of times. An invisible load lifted off my shoulders in a couple of seconds as I felt the information penetrate my cerebral cortex (particularly my frontal lobe where decision making occurs) and all the cogs literally turned at the same time. No one, not one person on this planet, has the power to decide how my life pans out. No one, not even myself, has the knowledge of how many children I will conceive, birth and/or love in my lifetime - present step children included.

In fact, all of it became so clear in the moment that I, in turn, realised that none of this was part of my plan, nor was it foreseen this time last year. That's right, only God Himself could bring someone into my life that I could love so easily, so hard and so true. Someone so compatible, who makes me laugh and sing and be my 'Authentic Self' with. Someone who does in fact come with 2 little humans that now share a household with me and my 1.5 cat's. A reality I never, ever dreamed of. A reality only God Himself could have conjured. A reality that I would have laughed at a year ago, yet here it is. Who says I can't have the same reality I've always dreamed about.

If God can bring me to it, surely He will get me through it. Time will tell, until then I choose to trust in the process. You never know, until you know. 

When discussing this new-found knowledge with my partner, he replied with, "You've been talking about having one child for so long that I've made it my reality too." 

Just goes to show, that as women, we need to be strong and focused. Know what you want and go for it, don't waiver! Know that a good man, a really, genuinely good man, will in fact follow your lead if it makes you truly happy.

The challenges are real

It's 18h31 on a Tuesday evening. My head is pounding and it feel's like flu or a serious head cold is looming. It doesn't matter though, regardless of how I feel, the little voices will not be silenced. They tear through the house full of energy and gusto that couldn't be found some two hours ago when it was homework time, funny that.

There is always something that needs attention, always a demand of some sort. I've filled their cups with Oros but of course they want my Woolworths Litchi that was gifted to me by my visiting mother just yesterday. The empty carton stands on our kitchen counter. So much for that. It's very hard not to growl, roll my eyes or erupt with a sarcastic reply - but just then dad steps in. Thank God for grown up's, perhaps it's time for me to grow up, perhaps it's time for me to set boundaries? 

Story time on the couch and I'm sitting at the dining table with earphones in my ear. I've turned the meditation music up so loud that my ear canal's are quivering, but I'm trying to drown out the chatter - just for 10 minutes please. It's not that I want to distance myself from their fable fun time, but this is the first break today and I'm embracing it. Call me antisocial, I feel feathers. 

"Parenting is hard!", they said

My day has consisted of a balancing act of chores, children, collecting and dropping my helping hand, reports, calling cycles, a pounding headache, a sick partner, a needy cat that follows me around the house and an impending business trip that needs my attention. I cannot connect to the VPN and my computer has just crashed. Roadworks, a burst water pipe in our complex and the next thing that happened.

I had just collected a whole jumble of school uniforms from the school. Yes, I was that parent digging in the lost property bins under the sick bed, in the hopes that I could find something that I could claim and that would fit them both. In all my years at school, no matter how much I thought we had suffered at the 'hands of poverty', I never saw my parents do this. 
Yet, here I was digging through paint splashed shorts and holey vests to try and find a set of winter replacements for the kids - because neither of us have money to replace an entire wardrobe of clothing that they've both managed to lose. 

Unclaimed jersey's, long pants and winter jackets now in my possession, I pay and leave the school with rosy cheeks and a sheepish look on my face. If circumstances were different I'd pay for their uniforms myself, but then again, these little people don't understand the meaning of money and they don't realise the value of the items they wear. Besides, this is a challenge their parents faced, I'm here to step in remember? So on instruction and came and we leave. I pop all into the washing machine, I'm feeling all proud and accomplished. Look at me, look at me!

It's how you handle stress that defines your character!

Eldest and I have gone through spelling, maths and reading homework. Dad will be home soon. "This wasn't so bad", I thought. I felt quite proud of myself for sharing a second 'first' with said eldest child. The first 'first' we had was a trip to the dentist a couple months ago and today was the second 'first' - learning to spell the word because. "Betty eats cakes and uncle sells eggs". Eldest is most impressed, I high five myself for a well executed win!

And then it hit me, the washing machine seemed to be carrying on a little longer than the usual 30 minute 'econo' cycle. To my horror 1 hour has passed and I can't get the machine to switch off. All I see is a spin cycle of Rand's before me, I cannot switch this bloody machine off at all!

I also notice that it's so incredibly hot inside there, that the heat is emanating off the front glass cover toward me. I've pushed every button, turned every knob and turned off every power source and still this machine won't reset. As if the demon of parental nightmares has taken hold of my machine, I stand before it staring at the blue coloured water and realise that life at this exact moment has an infinite amount of suckage attached to it. A blue shirt has run due to the hot water molten lava within the machine and all the kids clothes are stretched, blue and beyond recognition. 

Eventually I get the machine open and the inner contents now so hot that I'm forced to remove them with braai tongs. Braai tongs. Braai, tongs! The kids white collared shirts are blue, I'm talking Smurf. "God I know you're there", I recall thinking. "I know you love me, but why would this happen to good people?" I pleaded. All that money and I'm standing here shaking my head wondering what the hell I did to deserve this, what the hell possessed my machine and why the hell I'm still here. 

And then I realised that I'm dealing with parenting problems. This isn't a personal affliction, this is a parenting one and therefore I need to find a parenting solution.  (Oh look who just became inventive and mature at the same time.) Bleach, bath and blue panties (that were once beige) and an hour later half my problems have been resolved, unfortunately track pants are longer than my own legs and jersey's look big enough to cover a small car.  


It's 19h56 and I'm ready for bed, so much still to be done. 
This is a thankless job this parenting thing. The challenges are real and every time, I question why I'm in this. I could leave if I wanted. I could leave, but I don't. And I don't because I'm invested. I've made a commitment not just to the man I love but to the children that are part of his life, part of the package, part of him, now part of me. 

Just when I question things for the millionth time, something special comes out of it. "We'll miss you while you're away aunty", "Love you lots and sleep tight aunty". Little arms around my waist, little hands with little fingers that glide over my knuckles while we say grace at the dinner table. Moments of awesomeness as I look over to the couch, little people listening intently to dad as he reads. Dad's facial expression as he giggles through the book with them. 

Tears that stream down my face as I type this, there is reward in the hard work. There are blessings if you're willing to see them, they are part and parcel, equal and opposite to the agony of raising a child. 

Biological or otherwise.