South Africans

I guess blogging is not only something you do when feeling good, but I do prefer to concentrate on the positive. Am still feeling lousy, nausea blah blah...now onto the good stuff.

Baby boy has new baby teeth coming in, one at the bottom and on top. He hates brushing his teeth but I place him on the floor, hook my legs around his arms and keep him down in this crazy torture like stance in order to make sure that those pearly whites stay healthy. *side note: this teeth brushing stance was advice given by a dentist as kids need assistance brushing their teeth at least until they're 6yrs old* Baby boy is getting bigger and busier with each passing day and exercises those limbs by climbing his way through life. My ma reaches near heart attack stage whenever we skype and she sees him climbing onto a table. Good thing he's smart about climbing down.

We've stayed home or close by a lot more lately as I'm trying to regain strength to get back into our days of exploration. Yesterday we did venture out and ended up meeting a South African:) It's always lovely meeting those who speak a language besides English. Let me rephrase that by saying a language besides English that I can actually understand, as I'm surrounded by Spanish, French and Amharic. At the end of last year we were up in the mountains with our friends and ended up meeting two South Africans from Cape Town. They spoke Afrikaans, naturally;) anyway, my husband heard them converse and insisted that I go eavesdrop as they were South Africans. And so I did. And then came that movie moment as they leave the shop and I hesitate as to whether or not to say hi. With more nudging from husband I ran out into the snow and called out "Askies, praat julle Afrikaans" - google translate people, kidding, it means "excuse me, do you guys speak Afrikaans? or Are you speaking Afrikaans". They were pleasantly surprised and we returned inside the shop and chatted for a bit. That made my day, thanks to the ever persistent husband. So yesterday was a bonus when a lady walked up to baby boy and said "awuse'muhle" - translation: how pretty your are - or something along those lines. I do expect correction emails from Zulu speakers. And do excuse the spelling my Zulu writing has never been up to scratch, in fact it's darn near non existent.

Now imagine my shock and joy while standing in Macy's and hearing isiZulu being spoken to my son. I became all excited and we exchanged numbers as it turned out we lived on the same street. I'm all excited about the possibilities of learning Zulu and hanging out with a South African. One has to live far away from home to understand that kind of excitement. It's sort of like catching up with someone you went to high school with and you're able to chat about things that are common to you two and everyone else who went through that period along with you. Makes sense?

Well I promised myself I wouldn't keep this long as I need to rest and catch up on homework. Husband is playing basketball tonight. He's all chuffed as our new ward (church) takes basketball very very seriously. I hear that they're the reigning champs in the stake, 7yrs in a row. I guess with that kind of a record to uphold, I'd also take my game seriously.

A shout out to dear ma and auntie Zintle for spending all day on skype with us. We love you guys. I think my ma said goodnight right before baby boy's bath, which was around 3am in SA. The job of a mother never ends:)

Boobs and babies

Today is a big day. One to be marked on the calendar.

A monumental something occurred in this home. The milk factory has shut down! Not following? Baby boy stopped breastfeeding today, two weeks shy of his 18th month birthday. He is now a big boy who goes to sleep without needing some assistance. Wow. He's all grown up. Husband is waiting for me to break down crying about how much I'll miss breastfeeding. I also expected to feel a little emotional. Nope, that's a lie, I expected to be incredibly emotional. But I'm ok actually. It was time.

Although the breastfeeding journey started easily with no issues at all, I did experience a few hiccups along the way. I've never had a milk supply challenge, so for that I'm grateful. I did however soldier on the last 8 months using one boob. Yep, I was that girl with lopsided breasts for 8 whole months! The things we do for our kids. Sometime during month 9 and ten, baby boy started biting me real hard till the one breast became so haggard I refused to let him nurse on it. The pain was unbearable, and I have a very very low tolerance to pain. For a few days I tried to wean him off but that didn't work because a) making a bottle is just too much work and b) I'm sensitive to smell and the smell of  formula reminds me of a milkshake that was often given to us at Moreivin Primarie Skool - that's a Primary school in Hout Bay where I attended the first 2yrs of my schooling and the spelling is probably wrong - I didn't study there long enough to properly learn the spelling of the school name. And I should also add c) we were about to travel 24+ hours on a flight and breastfeeding was my go to response whenever baby felt uncomfortable on a flight. 

And so we fast forward to today. The first day since his birth that I have not breastfed baby boy. He's handling it better than expected. I was afraid he might throw on some shoes and take to the streets protesting against mothers who wean their babies before the age of two. But he didn't. Instead, he cried for 15mins before going to sleep during nap time. I gave him a sippy cup with water for comfort and it worked. Then he cried for about three minutes at bedtime, the sippy cup trick worked again. He is now asleep and will hopefully not wake up during the night howling at the ceiling mourning the shutdown of the milk factory. We had a good run now it's time for mama to throw away the padded bras and return to her even-barely-there boobies.

A lot of boob talk in the post huh. 

Oh well. 

Cheerio.

Love and food

All that's been on my mind lately is food and sleep.

For a while now I've struggled to fall asleep. I think it's a pattern that I've carried on from when I was pregnant with baby boy. And the negative effects have really started to bother me. So husband took it upon himself to help me regain a healthy sleeping habit. He achieved this by teaching me some skills which he acquired from his mission (I guess missionaries have so much on their minds that some struggle to fall asleep). The first thing he said to do was to be in bed 30mins before the designated bed time. This means I must be all snuggled in by 10pm because baby boy is up and ready for the day at 6am. Once in bed I needed to fully relax my body through breathing exercises. When breathing in through the nose, I concentrated on the cold air flowing into the body. And then had to concentrate on the warm air leaving the mouth. Slowly but surely I managed to forget all the to do lists, the day and no longer fussed over the next day. And when the breathing exercise is done correctly, I'm usually comfortably sleeping in less than 15mins. Isn't love an awesome thing, a person even cares about whether or not you're sleeping well. Thanks husband.

And about food, oh man food. For about a week now I've lazed around the house facing major nausea. Too much info? My apologies. Alright, on to food again. So for that previously mentioned reason, food has been quite an issue. The only thing my body craves are tomatoes sprinkled with salt, fresh croissants, sweet naartjies (clementines), granny smith apples and a big fat juicy piece of steak. I also have the odd seafood craving which can sometimes prove to be rather expensive. Today all I wanted to eat was a comforting meal that would remind me of home. If you grew up in Cape Town then you know that meal consists of: chicken, potatoes, rice and butternut. Done! Maybe add some coleslaw but I couldn't master up enough patience to grate the carrots and cabbage. The meal was good, baby boy tore it apart and all he could say was ummmm, yummy, uhmm. Then he put his drumstick down his shirt. Not sure what that's about. When I looked at him questioningly, he simply replied with a "what?" - said with a strong emphasis on the t.

"What" has been his favourite word these days. He also reprimands himself when he does something wrong but still continues doing it, whatever 'it' is. It's kind of funny to see him point saying "no no no Urijah". At least now I know he knows when he's in the wrong, I just wish he'd listen to me more. Oh well, I think that will be a struggle of a lifetime, I'm just glad he listens to me most of the time. As a new parent, I'm learning to pick my battles. Baby boy is inquisitive and discovering the world around him, he's also trying to see what actions get certain reactions out of me. So I have to be smarter with my mothering skills. A game of love and the occasionally a game of minds.

A cheers to the month of March, looking forward to a warm April. By the way, every time I say cheers to someone over the phone, usually an American, they think I'm toasting as in clink-clinking glasses. So often I need to explain that I'm just saying goodbye. 

Peace

Pushing forward

Feeling pretty exhausted today.

Baby boy was a champ and helped me around the house. He gets so excited every time I ask for his assistance. I guess it makes him feel all grown up. He's a pretty good helper, he helps unload the dishwasher, helps sort the laundry and even picks up his toys when I ask him to. Sometimes he even helps pick up the food he throws on the ground during mealtime, the only issue with that is him eating it off the carpet. I hope this hardworking stage doesn't slowly dissolve with age. But, who knows, there will probably come a time when I'll have to force him to cleaning his room.

It's a pleasure to be a mom but today was hard. All my body wanted to do was to sleep. I'm not sure how I got through the to do list but I'm thankful for the blessing of the inner strength that carried me throughout the day. There were many moments when I had to give in and pray for Heavenly Father's hand to nudge me forward. As always, the prayers were answered.

And now it's homework time. 

Public transportation

For the last little while baby boy and I have been making use of the Denver public transport system. Traveling with a 17 month old on a bus is a very interesting experience. Our first outing was to the Denver Art Museum and after we tackled the first trip, there was no stopping us. 

We braved the snow on Saturday and took a trip to Cherry Creek Mall. Everybody on the bus looked at me as if I was the worst mother in the world. Glad nobody called social services. What they didn't know was that not only did baby boy have snow gear on, but underneath the blanket he had three layers of clothing. Not to mention that we live a step away from the bus stop so there was barely any walking involved. They also didn't know that being inside the house is baby boy's worst nightmare and so for that reason alone, we have to get out at least once a day. Snow or no snow.

Aside from that snowy day, we've been getting really good weather. I can't help but laugh at myself here. This 'good weather' I'm referring to used to equal freezing cold when I first arrived in Colorado. Now when I go to Cape Town you can spot me as one of those folks walking around wearing a t-shirt in the rain claiming "it's so nice and warm". 

Today we decided - well I'm mother hen so really I'm the one who decides around here - to go and finally make use of the birthday gift cards (thank you Roberta and thank you Schamel seniors). Off we went to the nearest Target which ended up being in Aurora. After spending far too much time browsing the aisles, I could only find items for baby boy. And then occurred that terrible moment when you see your bus driving passed and you're not even close enough to make a run for it. Yes, we missed our bus. I called husband to whine and he gave me a great idea "just wait for the next bus". Really honey:/? Men get straight to problem solving, no time to entertain the woes of the moment. I also have to add that in reality I knew that he couldn't come pick us up as he was working more than 2hrs away. I was just acting spoiled, which is allowed in such moments. And so we waited, luckily for only 20mins. Within that time we managed to empty my handbag of all the emergency snacks.

These recent bus trips have been terrifying at times as I'm not always sure where we're going even though I make certain to memorize the routes and destinations before leaving the house. Denver is still a new city to me and slowly but surely street names and landmarks are becoming familiar. The Denver transportation system does make things easier and the bus drivers are always helpful. I've also called the help center a number of times to confirm the return schedule. This planning and assistance has helped ease the travel anxiety which I might add was brought on by dear husband. I have a terrible sense of direction and he was worried that baby boy and I would get lost. That made me worry hence why I have to over compensate by being overly prepared. While we're still sharing one car, this public transportation system is the next best thing. And baby boy loves saying hi to everyone on the bus. 

Right before we stepped out, we recorded this video. 

Enjoy

Let love rule

I feel a long post coming on.

There are a few things I wanted to write down so that I wouldn't forget them. Haven't you heard? I'm ageing, I'm now 27 and the memory is slowing down. No honestly, I've always had a terrible memory, especially when it comes to remembering names or replying to text messages. Apologising in advance.

I've been reading this beautiful blog from a woman who has gone through a massive trial in her life. You can read about her story here. Her name is Stephanie and her outlook on life continues to inspire me. In fact, her blog was one of those that brought on the idea of creating this space. I appreciate it so much when people share a piece of themselves and heal us in the process. 

Stephanie's story freed me from being self conscious about the burn scar on my neck. This is a scar that has marked my appearance since infancy. Even though I've heard the story of the accident, I can't remember the details and for the first time in my life, it truly doesn't matter. That accident no longer occupies a heavy place of regret. As a teenager I sought ways to conceal my mark, wanting to look ordinary and not so different. It became even harder whenever a boy wouldn't like me back, because I'd always take it back to the scar, thinking that if only I were a pretty girl... Well, that was a long time ago and now there's a boy and he likes me plenty. 

This is not really about being liked by someone else, it's about liking myself. 

And now as a mother it is my job to teach baby to have substance, to be kind, gracious and full of charity. And to not base his self worth on the reflection in the mirror. 

It is said that we are more than our appearances. We are more than our skin tone. More than what society deems attractive or unattractive. And I am more than this scar. I am grateful for the trial that it brought to my teenage years and how it has forced me to not rely on looks but instead to focus on that which matters most. I am especially grateful to those who treat others with dignity no matter the appearance. After all, we're sharing the same earth, navigating life the best way we know how. 

Let love, not judgement, be the leader of your thoughts.

Peace

New look

Thought the blog needed a new look:) no post just some maintenance work.

A lovely week to all.