Poem
This poem is sweet and endearing when you have a little one.
My Child,
You are my today, my tomorrow, and all the tomorrows after.
You are the air I breathe,
the light at the end of every dark tunnel,
the rainbow after a torrential rainstorm with thunder and lightning,
and the beautiful melody in all the songs I listen to.
You are my motivation to swim against the waves,
my strong foundation even when I’m feeling weak and at risk of toppling over,
and my shining star in a dark universe.
My unconditional love for you,
is one that pulls me out of bed on the hard mornings,
where the tired makes my bones ache,
and my brain is so foggy I can hardly think straight.
It’s a love that’s so comfortable it rocks me to sleep at night
even after a day filled with overthinking every interaction,
of feeling overwhelmed by an inbox of unread emails and dirty laundry,
and falling short,
again and again.
I have never felt anything like it before.
I can be depleted of everything,
but never of my all-encompassing love for you.
Because when I dig deep, I will always find more to give.
So, I hope you feel loved every day of your life knowing
you’re someone’s today,
tomorrow, and all the tomorrows after.
___________________________________
Then they get older. They have their own will – mostly against yours – So I changed the poem …just a little bit.
My Teenager,
You are my today, my tomorrow, and all the tomorrows after.
You are the air I breathe,
sometimes you are my dark tunnel
the cause of my torrential rainstorm with thunder and lightning,
and the doof-doof of the songs I am forced to listen to.
You cause me to swim against the waves,
you make me weak and at risk of toppling over,
I need a shining star in the universe.
My unconditional love for you,
is one that pulls me out of bed on the hard mornings,
helps me not to break your bones,
and my brain is so foggy that I forget that I’m upset.
It’s a love that’s so tyring it forces me to sleep at night
even after a day filled with fighting every interaction,
of feeling overwhelmed by an inbox of unread emails and dirty laundry,
and falling short,
again and again.
I have never felt anything like it before.
I can be depleted of everything – patience; money; freedom; time –
but never of my all-encompassing love for you.
Because when I dig deep, I will always find more to give.
So, I hope you feel loved every day of your life knowing
you’re someone’s today,
tomorrow, and all the tomorrows after.
Forensic Accountant
Yes, we have a student in our home that is studying forensic accounting.
I’m so very proud of Jason. For two reasons actually. With the subjects he had, he couldn’t study forensic accounting. He would first have to do financial accounting, then chartered accounting and then switch to forensic accounting. Well, Jason being Jason, he spoke to the professor of the forensic accounting and with the amazing marks he got last year, he is starting his studies as a forensic accountant on Monday!!
I would never have the guts to walk up to someone and discuss my studies like that. Also so darn proud that he knows what he wants and just does it.
I think what amazes me most of Jason is the fact that he is so independent He homeschooled without any help from me. He studied subject he never had last year (accounting that is my profession) and he never asked for help. He got himself into forensic accounting without help. Like I say, he knows what he wants and does what it takes to make it happen.
May this be an awesome year for you, Jason.
You make me proud.
My backup
My dad was my backup. You know like we’re back things up so that we don’t lose important things? My dad was my backup. I have lost that. I have lost my backup. Nobody can give it back. Nobody can replace it. I just don’t have it anymore. I have lost the shared memories. It is not the same when it is just mine. I have lost the shared knowledge of our business. I have lost the memories that he was still going to make with the kids. He loved them so very much. I wish I could get his memories back. What he has backed up on his mind.
I have lost the person who always had my back. No matter what.
I have lost the one person I could share anything with and know that he won’t judge.
I have lost my safety net. Financially, emotionally, just being there for me and the kids.
I try to hide it. I try to take it. Some days are just harder. Today is a difficult one.
I love you, Dad.
Department of Home Affairs
I’m so sick and tired of our town. Probably our country but since I’m mostly here let’s focus on our town.
Quintus’ wallet was stolen. Long, long time ago. So he needed a new ID and new drivers licence. Typically young man, he has left it and only decided to do it this week.
He went to Hartbeesfontein (small farm town) near us. We checked the load-shedding schedule and they were supposed to be on. Well, he gets there and they have no water. So they are closed.
He then wanted to go to Bothaville but that wouldn’t work. By the time he would get there they would have load-shedding.
So he was forced to go to Klerksdorp Home Affairs. In town. Two blocks from the police station.
He was in line when one guy grabbed him from behind. One arm around his neck and the other a knife against his side. The second guy went through his pockets and stole his phone. Casually they turned around and walked away.
Walked. away. No rush. Arrogant. They know nothing will happen. At the same time someone else did that to a young girl in the from of the line. Someone realized there was a problem and took them into the building to help them.
As Quintus got close to his car another guy grabbed him. By that time Quintus was so upset, he just told him that he is too late. He has been robbed already.
This happens many times. Daily. It’s not acceptable.
Where is the security? No. Even worse, where’s the police at Home Affairs. They know this happens. Every day. Where are they? Don’t we pay taxes to at least be protected?
We need passports to travel. IF you survive the trip to Home Affairs.
We need IDs to renew your licence, to travel, to not get fines. But travelling to Home Affairs might get you killed.
It’s sickening that we just accept this. I’m currently very disgusted by our town. Is it even a town? I can’t even ride on the road since we have more potholes than tar.
Just breath.
Cancer survey
I was asked to help with some cancer research being done and some of the questions actually touched me in a way I didn’t expect.
I hide a lot of my feelings. My emotions. I think I’m scared of giving in to it and then drown … not swim.
I have terrible neuropathy after chemo. Permanently. Some days worse than others. We even call them my chemo legs when they are so sore that I can’t or prefer not to walk because of the pain. However, I don’t want to think of it as permanent or something in my way of having a perfectly normal life but it does influence my day-to-day life. Some days they hurt so much that I can’t / don’t want to get up to make my own coffee. She wanted to know how my legs influence my daily life. Well, even though I didn’t want to think of it like that, it does influences it much more than I want to admit.
Then much worse than that my hands shake uncontrollably. Some days worse than others but always in some form or another. I went to the Wimpy with my mom and brother this morning. I had to ask them for a straw to drink my coffee. I couldn’t get the cup to my mouth without messing. Can you imagine how that feels? Some days I can’t write properly. Some days typing is difficult. Working my phone is normally difficult.
Yes, I’m here. I’m alive. I made it. I’m hugely thankful for that. That is one of the reasons why I have been making light of the two main side effects from the chemo (excluding the fatigue way less these days and lymphedema that most patients have)
I do have those though. Daily. I can’t try to ignore it. I can’t force my hands to stop shaking. It’s there. It’s constant.
Maybe not coping with it, is my way of coping with it.
As with most things in my life.
Kyla
Kya, ek twyfel jy gaan ooit hierdie lees ,maar ek wil dit skryf.
Jy was maar ‘n 3 jarige dogtertjie toe jy die eerste keer in ons lewens ingestap of eerder ingehardloop het. Jy het nooit stilgesit nie. Nie vir ‘n oomblik nie. Net in jou slaap. Jy was by ons tot jy 6 geword het. Net so. Oornag moes ek jou wakker maak want jy moes na jou pa toe. Ek wil nie verder daaroor praat nie. Dis vir ‘n ander dag.
Ons het jou aan en af gesien terwyl jy geswerf het van jou ma, na pleegouers en daarna die kinderhuis. Soms Kersfees, soms Paasnaweek, een vakansie. Jy was altyd daar.
Op 12 het ons jou, ‘n rebelse moeilike tiener meisie, by die kinderhuis gaan haal. Twee jaar het dit my (ons) gevat om van jou die pragtige jong meisie maak wat jy is. Twee jaar. Op 19 het jy en my ma so ‘n groot uitval dat jy daardie selfde aand besluit om terug te gaan na jou ma toe. Dieselfde persoon wat jou weggegee het. Wat gesê het sy wil eerder jou Tannie wees. Wat daarna jou weer opgegee het.
Dit het seergemaak. Dit het baie seergemaak. Jy is my kind. Nie my pleegkind nie. My kind en jy het ‘n onvolwasse besluit gemaak om te gaan. Ek kon niks doen nie. Jy is oud genoeg om jou eie besluite te maak.
Nou het jy besluit om terug te gaan na jou pleegouers. Die wat jou kinderhuis toe geneem het. Weet jy hoe seer maak dit? Daai pyn? Daai mes wat voel jy kies hulle bo my?
Ek weet dit gaan nie oor my nie, maar ek is ook net mens. Ek is ook net iemand wat soveel ingesit het om jou groot te maak en die enigste persoon was wat jou nooit weggegee het nie en jy besluit om terug te gaan na mense wat jou wel weggegee het.
Dit maak seer, my kind. Dit maak seer.
Breaking the news
How do you tell someone that the glue of the family has passed away? That our back-up has passed away. That the one that you could go to for everything has passed away. That the one that google of us passed away. How. How do you do that?
I had to though. We had to.
I told my mom. It broke my heart. It completely broke my heart into pieces. My heart that was torn from my body had to tell my mom and break hers.
Michael was working and I didn’t know if I could phone him. If he would be able to handle the news in whatever situation he was in. I had to though since news spreads and our cousins knew before I could make sure it was a safe situation to phone him. This is one of my biggest regrets of that night. I should have just phoned him. Regardless.
Mark had to tell his family per whatsapp. I phoned my kids individually. Jason and Quintus knew in a way. They were prepared since I phoned them and asked that they would pray with my dad when he was still fighting for his life. Zander did not know. Not at all. He put a hoody on and just cried. The boys sat together in my room. They cried. They laughed at some of the memories and I’m glad they could. I’m glad they could feel that close to my dad and his memories and not just be broken beyond healing.
His sisters were shocked and so broken. Tommie was shocked. Just no-one believed that my dad would be the first grandparent to pass away.
He was the healthy one. He cycled. Ate well. Took his vitamins. Went for all his check-ups. He was the one who took care of himself.
This was not supposed to have happened to him.
That day
Dad, I don’t want to forget that day. I don’t want to because it captured you in so many ways.
Mark surprised you with a visit. We were all so very worried about Mom and he wanted to visit her. You phoned me and asked if you could pick me up and if I needed the wheelchair. That was so you. Always worried about me having to walk so far and being willing to push my overweight body around. Even though you battled with your hip and feet.
I did not need the wheelchair though and off we went to visit Mom. I remember that she though Mark was her brother. She was so deurmekaar. Just the previous night you phoned her doctor (so out of character for you) because she was just getting worse.
On our way back to the car you felt really bad and we had to sit down in the waiting area. I was worried and wanted us to walk to ER that was just there. You said you would be fine and walked to the car that Mark brought to the hospital entrance.
On the way out you said again that you are not feeling well and that you hope you did not overdo it. You cycled for an hour listening to some Podcast and didn’t even realize how long you were cycling.
You still didn’t want to go to ER but once we were close to home you asked us to take you back to ER. Once there Mark and I were both trying to think who writes better to fill in the forms 🙂 I filled in the forms while they took your blood pressure and asked the medication you were on.
They put you into a cubicle, put an EKG on you and that was that. You and I were chatting about the F1 race that we were going to watch with the boys. You had still put chips, biltong and such out for us all. You had the F1 race on the TV. Everything ready for a special afternoon with the boys. We were hoping that Max would win and he did.
They came to read the EKG, said it was normal but still the moved you to the resus room? That made no sense.
There you waited with the stickers on your chest, connected to the machine but that was that. No-one came in to see you. No-one came in to check whatever the machine was showing. Nothing. Just lying there. I was still trying to sit on that round metal doctor’s chair without falling and you told me I’m going to need stiches before we leave.
Then things took a turn for the worse. About 30 minutes after you were admitted. You were in so much pain. Pain that came and went. I was sure it was a heart attack because you had pain going through your left arm. Your chest felt tight as if something was pushing on your chest. That is what you felt when you were admitted. It was just getting worse.
You asked me to take your phone and glasses to the car (poor Mark was still waiting for us) and that’s when I got really worried. I got back to your room and you told me you screamed from pain but no-one came. I got so upset. I walked out to reception and demanded a doctor.
What did they do? They sent one of ladies at reception to put a drip in. A drip for pain. …almost an hour after we got there. The lady could not get the drip in and apologized because she had not put a drip in, in three years. You said it’s okay, she is just doing her job. So they still didn’t know what was going on. They still weren’t monitoring you. No doctor. Just something for pain an hour later.
The doctor (only doctor there) was busy resuscitating another patient and doing a great job of it. There was no-one there to help you though. I went out and asked for help again, since you grabbed the sides of the bed every now and then. You mentioned at one time that you were feeling a bit better. That it felt as though something moved in your chest. The pain came back though and much worse. Again, I begged for help. No-one came.
Once they stabilized the other patient the doctor came to you. She told you that all patients are equally important and she is sorry for only getting to you now. Your last words were that you were proud of the work she did on the patient and congratulated her for saving her life.
THAT was you. That was the essence of who you were and how you lived your life. You didn’t blame her. You weren’t upset. You congratulated her.
Within 3 minutes of her being there you had a seizure. I was hoping it was an epileptic attack. I can cope with that. I know that. Then you stopped, looked up. Your eyes were the bluest of blue. The white around your eyes such a clean white. I called for you to look at me. Daddy, kyk vir my. Dad. Pappa. Daddy.
Then you turned red. Your eyes bulging. Your heart were going all over the place. That’s when they asked me to leave the room. I sat outside your room, not a meter from where you were fighting for your life. Not a meter from where they were fighting for your life. I could hear them trying to resuscitate you. (I never want to hear someone count again) They tried for 45 minutes but they could not save you.
Maybe if they monitored you when we got there. Maybe if they did more than just give you something for pain. Maybe if they had a doctor to check on you. Maybe they could save you.
I had to get Mark to tell him that you passed. I was so calm. It was like I knew and accepted it because someone had to be strong. The doctor walked with us to Mom’s room so that I could tell her. They were there for her at least.
I told her and she answered with “Die arme man”. She didn’t get it at first. Maybe a blessing …
I know I should let go of the anger
I know that I should stop feeling angry. I should stop trying to go back in time and force the doctors to help him. I should stop trying to go back in time and not be angry with myself for not doing more.
We were there for an hour and a half. ONE AND A HALF HOURS. In an emergency room. Not a coffee shop. An emergency room. Where they need to help people with emergencies.
My dad had an emergency. He was busy dying and they did not help.
How can I not be angry!?
My dad shouted in pain. I begged for help. Help came too late. Five minutes before he passed away. That’s when help came.
They could have saved him. Could they have saved him? I don’t know! That is something that I have to carry with my always because they didn’t try. If the tried when we got there, I would know there was nothing they could do. Now I sit with all the what if’s. What if I shouted. What if I grabbed them by the shoulders and pulled them into his room. What if they did check and injected him. Would there have been enough time.
I will never know and that makes me angry. Feeling that he might have survived if … He was where he needed to be but they didn’t try.
I don’t know how to stop being angry.
Can you hear me?
I suppose it’s more “can you read this”.
I have not blogged since last year October. Every time I start up again I remember how good it is for my soul to put my feelings down on “paper”. Not long and I stop again.
This time I need to blog. I need to write about my dad’s passing. I need to put down how I feel. I will write about this often, since my dad was not just my dad. We had a relationship that many of my friends have said they were jealous about. I didn’t know that before he passed. I just always knew that he had my back and I had his.
He was the one I could go to with everything. The one who taught me not to judge. Not to get angry quickly. To look at life through other’s perspective as well.
These posts won’t be about our relationship though. I might have some here and there but this is about his passing. About how this is tearing me apart.
“I miss you, Dad. I love you. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you that day.”
So it IS dyslexia. Thank goodness.
Yes. Thank goodness.
We had him tested for dyslexia when he was younger. He was 9. He was diagnosed as having dyslexia and after trusting that the teachers would know how to handle a child with dyslexia, I was sorely mistaken and had to make the decision to homeschool him.
I have gone back and forth so many times. I’m just a mom. What do I know? Am I making the right decision? Was this the best decision for him. What if the diagnoses was incorrect?
You know what parents are like. That guilt even when there should be none.
He had to be tested again now since he is going to Grade 10 next year and needs concessions. He needs extra time, he needs someone to read and write for him. He is allowed that if diagnosed again.
So deep in my mind I worry. What if his dyslexia is not that bad. What if, if I tried harder and he could have been ‘better’.
Well, again we were told that he is dyslexic. Both types. Yes, I know you get many types of dyslexia (trust me I know more than I want to) but two are the main ones and he has both.
Am I glad? Hell no. Do I want him to be dyslexic? Hell no. I’m I thankful for the diagnoses? Hell yes. We made the right choice by taking him out of school and giving him the opportunity to learn to read and write without judgement (from the teachers BTW and not his peers)
I think though that the biggest eye-opener for me was his reaction this afternoon. He was quiet and obviously stressed on the way there. He even said that he was scared that he did not have dyslexia. Thankfully the lady who did the tests is so sweet. He liked her the moment he saw her (even with the weird Covid mask) They went upstairs and did some tests, came back and did more in the room where I was waiting.
She can’t tell me what will be decided with regards to accommodations that he will get (that is a different government department that makes those decisions based on her information) however she did confirm that he does have dyslexia. She spoke some about his specific dyslexia but also how she picked up on certain things that he is brilliant with.
On the way back he played the music so loud and sang with non-stop. Loudly. He does not like to hear anyone sing louder than the music and we were pumping it!
You know what? He needed to hear that he is dyslexic. He needed to hear that him battling is not because he is stupid or lazy. He has dyslexia and having a diagnoses is great. Knowing that it is okay.
He needed to hear that he can do this. He will be fine. There will be ways to help and he will be just fine without being judged because he really does have dyslexia.
Yes, he was diagnosed before but he was very young and the lady that tested him was very young as well. This was different. The tests were more advanced and lady has been doing this for years. She tests a couple of children every day.
I’m happy for him. I was so happy to see him happy when we left. He feels validated. As he should.
“You are doing well, my son. I’m so very proud of you. I’m proud that you walked in there with your head held high and walked out on a cloud. You know that dyslexia is nothing to be ashamed about. It is totally okay. You are an example to others. You are so much loved. Mom xx ”
This
Imagine you’re going about your day, minding your own business, when someone sneaks up behind you…
You feel something press up against the back of your head, as someone whispers in your ear.
“Sssshhhhh…. don’t turn around. Just listen. I am holding a gun against the back of your head. I’m going to keep it there. I’m going to follow you around like this every day, for the rest of your life.”
“I’m going to press a bit harder, every so often, just to remind you I’m here, but you need to try your best to ignore me, to move on with your life. Act like I’m not here, but don’t you ever forget… one day I may just pull the trigger… or maybe I won’t. Isn’t this going to be a fun game?”
This is what it is like to be diagnosed with cancer. Any STAGE of cancer. Any KIND of cancer. Remission does not change the constant fear. It never truly goes away. It’s always in the back of your mind.
❤ ❤ My friend, Heather posted this. I have never been able to put into words what the anxiety is like. This is it. This is what it is like. ❤️❤️
Thank you, Covid
In my most sarcastic voice ever. Thank you Covid.
You messed up a whole year of Zander’s swimming. He worked so hard and you took away a whole year.
Last year, he qualified for SA Level 2 on the very last race of the season. He was SO happy and we were all so very proud. The weekend before levels though the country was locked down thanks to Covid.
They could only start training about 3/4 months later? Then they had two “drop and go” galas where we couldn’t even watch them swim. He did very well in those galas, qualifying for level two in all the freestyle, breaststroke and 200m back. He trained extra hard in the gym and then training in the afternoons. He was extremely motivated and ready.
Then he got Covid. Funny thing to put here. He tested negative even though he had ALL the symptoms. After Covid he has been battling with extreme lung pain and we couldn’t figure out what was causing it. Well, we saw a Cardiologist who picked up on a heart condition! and he sent us for an antibody test. Guess what, this mom was right after all. He did have Covid. The lung pain is from the Covid and now, a year later, he will be missing out on his SA Level 2 gala again. I’m so upset for him. Especially knowing how hard he worked to get there.
Life can be so darn unfair 😦 I whole year. I just hope that this pain won’t linger much longer so that he can go back to training.
Still sick…
Or should I say he is sick again? I’m losing track. He has been sick so often 😔
He had all the symptoms of Covid but tested negative. He has been sick for almost three weeks now though and he is not near better. His symptoms aren’t the same as when he got sick originally but he has been ill 🤒 for almost three weeks now.
At this stage he has, in his words “excruciating pain in his lungs”. He was diagnosed with bronchitis last week. He is worse, so we had a follow up xray but it shows healthy lungs now. Now what…
My mom had a good idea that I check the side effects of the medicine I use when I ventilise him and I just had to laugh. The one is “pain anywhere in your body”. Well that pretty much covers it all! 😂
So… It might or might not be a side effect. We will never know!
When you do something right
You know, as a parent, we always wonder if we are doing the right thing. Did we do the right thing? Are we doing right by our children? Will we be sending children into the world that are independent, caring, happy and confident? People with empathy, respect for others. People who can grow but not outgrow who and where they came from. Just generally speaking, good people.
I must have done something right. I got this message from Quintus’ boss:
“Melany, ek moet net vir jou sê, jy het ‘n baie oulike seun groot gemaak. So vriendelik, hulpvaardig en hardwerkend. Hy het ‘n “bright future”!!!! Valerie dink ook die wêreld van hom!”
Translated: Melany, I must just say you raised a very good son. So friendly, helpful and hardworking. He has a bright future!!! Valerie (his boss’s wife) also thinks the world of him.
“Thank you, Quintus. Thank you for being a great son. Thank you for growing up to be an awesome young man. Thank you for making me feel like an okay Mom.
I’m so very proud of you.”
Questions
Every now and then I ask the children some questions. It’s nice to keep for the future. It’s so sweet that they still answer them for me.
What do I say the most:
Kyla: Use your fucking flicker light you idiot! Also: it’s not so bad. Horses died in the war.
Jason: Who is making food tonight? 😊
Zander: I love you.
Quintus: Clean up the dog’s poo on the lawn.
How tall am I?
K: 1,68?
J: How much I know? 1,66?
Z: 1,75
Q: 1,60
What makes me happy:
K: Peanut brittle or some surprise
J: To make money / work
Z: When we are happy. When we do our work and when you work.
Q: Snowy (my dog)
What do I most like to do?
K: Read, Netflix
J: To work or watch Netflix
Z: To work or watch Netflix
Q: To read
What makes me unhappy?
K: …. This is a private (not my story to tell)
J: When we don’t listen
Z: When we are unhappy
Q: When we fight
What is my favourite food
K: Pasta
J: Ocean Basket
Z: Ocean Basket
Q: Rice with garlic sauce and prawn
What about me irritates you
K: When I don’t discipline the boys when they don’t do their work.
J: Nothing, ek en Ma is rustig
Z: Nothing that you do, Mom. I get frustrated with schoolwork and then you think I’m frustrated with you but I’m not.
Q: Nothing
What is my favourite TV program
K: Blacklist / Modern Family / Superstore
J: You don’t watch TV programs. You watch Netflix series and Survivor.
Z: Modern Family
Q: Survivor
How old am I
K: 46
J: 46 (because Kyla said so)
Z: 42
Q: 46
What is my favourite colour
Everyone said red
How much do you love me
K: Unconditionally
J: You are my only mom, so I have to say a lot 😊
Z: Indescribably lots
Q: Soos die son (Something between us)
What do I drink most:
K: Water and coffee
J: Water and coffee
Z: Coffee and water
Q: Coffee
Where do I ride to the most
K: To work (and Ouma)
J: Work
Z: To Potchefstroom and work
Q: Ouma
Department of Education
Not just the Department of Education but the whole government. I get that we have to protect the country, the health system and people from Covid. I get that! That is why I do my part. It is why I follow rules.
I just don’t understand stupid rules like you are allowed in restaurants, but you can’t be on the beach. You can go to the movies but you can’t go to church. I mean, who thought of those rules?
School was to start in January. I think the 15th? Somewhere around there. Kyla is back in government school for matric and she is very nervous about her final year. The same year that is yet to start. The DoE decided that they aren’t ready for schools to open. They don’t have the gear or stock for cleaning. Not enough staff. Whatever excuse. So no school until 15 February.
The schools decided that they would have the children pick up their books from school. Per grade, per class as to make sure that they don’t have too many children at school at one time. They would then continue with school online. The day before this is to happen, the DoE sends out a message that NO child is allowed on school property.
So please excuse my ignorance here but the children’s education is less important than going to a restaurant? Going to the movies?
Please can someone explain this to me. I must have a problem understanding.
Too motivated
Zander is a very motivated child … when it comes to swimming and gaming. He is in the pool at 6h30 with his friend, where they swim at least 2 km. They then gym for another hour. Proper gym, not chatting up girls or looking in the mirror. His friend wants to be an Olympic swimmer. They are focussed. Every afternoon he swims another 2 hours with his swim club.
Now, Zander is small. He doesn’t have spare muscle or fat. He needs to eat a lot to make up for all the kilojoules he loses per day. I could see it was all getting to him when we started school. He would literally fall asleep while reading for marks. He could not stay awake until afternoon practice. He would have to sleep from after “school” until we leave for the half hour drive to his swim club.
It could not go on like that. He doesn’t want to hear about slowing down. He wants to do better. He wants to be better.
I’m going to get him to take in extra protein shakes that will hopefully work. I hope he will understand that he needs to eat more. It is not that he doesn’t want to, he is just not hungry. So rather, I hope his body gets ready for more food.
I phoned his urologist this morning. He has kidney issues. Basically he has one working kidney, so I also can’t just give any shake. It will have to be something his body can handle. Thankfully his doctor also has a son that is a sportsman, so he will know even more what is safe for Zander to use. He will contact me tomorrow after looking at his file.
I hope that we can find a balance. I told him no more gym on a Wednesday. (He will still swim in the afternoon) Feels like he is getting the day off but in reality he will just be doing what the other swimmers are.
Grade 9
Children attending government schools and even some private schools, cannot go to school yet. Not surprising the schools aren’t ready to handle all the children and be Covid compliant…
However, this does not influence homeschooling. Zander started on Monday.
Unfortunately, no second day of school for him. He has a horrible middle ear infection. Hopefully tomorrow we can continue again.
No swim training though and that is the worst thing that can happen in his life. 😅
Emotional abuse
Apparently I am emotionally abusing Kyla.
What a lovely way to start 2021.
Kyla moved back home when she was 12. She also lived with us on and off from when she was three to six. She started her first day of school here with us! Books and clothes bought by us. The years in between she would spend Christmas or Easter or we would see her for a day or two. I have always been in her life. Now her mom dares to say I am abusing her? The same mom that has hardly ever raised her (not always her choice) A mother that has never raised a teenage daughter?
Ask any teenage daughter and I am sure they feel that the world is against them at any given day and their mother is to blame for it all. The next day their mother is the best part of their world. It is a rollercoaster ride for sure.
So I don’t know what Kyla complained about or what sentence her mom decided to base it on, but she has now decided I’m emotionally abusing Kyla. Oh well. Whatever.
Welcome 2021. I’ll leave the door open. At least I wouldn’t have to get up every time you knock.
2020
I have not written much this year. Maybe because I’m scared that once I do the words that flow onto my screen won’t stop. Maybe I’m scared that people will truly know how I feel. Maybe I just needed some space for me.
Let’s face it. It has been a crappy year for all of us. I think that Covid just added to me already feeling emotionally drained.
Being in lockdown felt like house arrest or being grounded by your parents. Some days I understood it but other days I wanted to slip through my bedroom window like a teenager.
Then I heard that my favourite nurse (who had always been there when I was hospitalised during chemo) passed from Covid, I was heartbroken. She was still so young. After that a client/friend passed away the day after she was released from hospital, after fighting for three months! Our doctor passed away after fighting for a very long time.
Lockdown made some sense then. Wearing a mask and sanitising always did. However we had 500 or 600 cases then. Now we have 17 000 and we aren’t on full lockdown? Why the full lockdown then and not now? Why mostly only lockdown beaches? Not restaurants or movie theatres…Please I don’t want to go back to full lockdown. Our country can’t afford it. I’m just saying it makes no sense.
Due to lockdown and children mostly not going to school or zoom classes that were insufficient , I decided to homeschool Kyla. What an expensive thing that was. She did well but financially I should not have done that. I just should not have.
I moved Zander to another swim club. I could go into detail but let’s just say that my child needs to be trained with his best interest at heart ( not with 10 year olds when he is the fastest 50m swimmer in his age group in the club) I will not be spoken to like a child or accept that I am not allowed to understand why certain decisions are made.
He is so happy at his new club. His times improved dramatically. He has also put in a lot more effort. I can see he is ready to push himself now. He is happy and motivated. He wakes up early to gym and then spends all afternoon training in the pool.
I lost my sweet, sweet Bella. Just like that. I got home from work on April 11 and saw she wasn’t well. She had bladder cancer. I put her down that same evening. I held her in my arms and told her how much I loved her. How thankful I was to have had her in my life. It was heartbreaking. I miss her so.
I did get cheeky little Snowy (Bella left such a hole in my heart) She is the complete opposite of Bella but I’m her everything. I love her so much.
Quintus found an intern job. He is studying to become an architecture drafter. He is loving it. Who knew! His friends are also more at my house than their own. Good kids.
Jason is still battling like crazy with his leg. He will definitely need another operation but wants to wait for winter. He started to crossfit again this year and probably spent all his time there or at church. He has a great group of friends there.
The boys spent their first ever Christmas away from me. Kyla was also with her mom. It was horrible. They were at the sea though and I was happy for them. Until the beaches were closed due Corona ( but please do still go to a restaurant urgh) They are on their way home and will be here tomorrow. Would have been lovely if they could be here tonight to help me with the dogs and their fear of fireworks but I am sure I can cope (not!)
Like I said, it has been a tough year for me though.
Tomorrow is just the day after today. No new year’s resolutions. No party. No let’s hope for a better year.
Let’s just take one day at a time.
Stay safe.
Let’s talk cancer
So it’s been almost two years since I finished my treatment. I think. I try not to keep track. I don’t want a countdown to the five years that we want to achieve.
I just don’t know when “cancer” really leaves you. When does it stop being a worry.
I have had a headache for far over a month now. Not just a headache but one of those where I battle to think. Battle to wake up. Battle to sleep. Just bad.
I don’t want my first thought to be cancer. I don’t. So I asked Kyla to give me a head massage earlier this week. She pushed on a specific area and it was extremely painful. I asked her if it was a spasm and she said, it is round unlike the other side that is in spasm.
Great. So is it a normal headache? I detest being someone who thinks everything is cancer. I promised myself not to be like that.
I have an appointment with my oncologist later this month. It’s just so frustrating that I am still not over the “is this cancer” worry.
Dyslexia
Finally.
After trying to find out what Zander sees when he reads I finally understand. Last night he explained it to me in such a logical way. This is not the first time I asked: just the first time I understood.
I want to explain how he sees it. Just maybe it could help someone else.
Basically he sees the spaces between words first. Then he sees letters between the spaces that are scrambled in a way.
Somewhat like this:
This si how he seses teh dswor hatt he rades.
He has to unscramble words before reading them. I am glad that I now understand why he battles but it saddens me to such an extend.
I can never fix that. I am just glad he doesn’t have to cope with it at school anymore, where the biggest bullies were the teachers.
“love you, Zander! More than all the scrambled words you have to unscramble.”
Hi, it’s me
It feels as though I should introduce myself, my life and my many children.
2020 sucks. Too many people losing their jobs. So much heartbreak around us. I lost my sweet little Bella to cancer after all she went through. I miss her when I wake up, I miss her when I go to sleep.
I had an operation two weeks ago to remove a growth in my throat 11x7x5 cm. Rather big BUT benign so that is all that matters. Since it is lockdown we couldn’t have any visitors. I was so lucky to have had an old school friend in the bed next to me. She took such great care of me.
Zander had an operation on his toes. They had to loosen the ligaments and scratch away bone so that his toes could straighten out. I did force my way into the hospital when he wanted to home and they refused. Don’t mess with a Mom. Four weeks later and he is still in pain.
Financially it is tough. I’m not going to lie. I would not have made it without my parents.
Kyla is now homeschooling as well. We just couldn’t with the Department of Education anymore. No plans at all as to when school would open but the children were getting behind by the day. So many a child at home now. Even Jason’s friend Armando is here to school most days.
I actually missed blogging. I should do it more often.
Super Mom .... or not 