Holidays are a time when discipline and order gives way to relaxation and play. On a normal day, Robert’s free play is peaceful and non-destructive. He spends a lot of time with the “radio” changing music tapes and sometimes CDs. The occasional quiet interval, which causes panic for any parent, usually means that Robert is playing quietly and putting together one of his favorite puzzles.
There are the times though when play means dumping a whole toy box on the ground, and it gets annoying for me to pack away several times a day. Yesterday I started putting things back in the boxes and negotiated with him to continue packing away while I made him a bowl of cereal. I took my time in the kitchen to see the result of this exercise. A few minutes later he followed me into the kitchen exhaling a tired breath and said: “Oh it is hard packing away”. I found it very funny that he realized this on his very first attempt at tidying up. He got a big hug and kiss after that and not only because he did such a good job.
On days like these when I am rushing, fighting loss of sleep and nervous at the choices and responsibilities ahead, I have to stop and appreciate what I have, and pause to take in the joys of being a mom to a small child
Sometimes I want to stop time and capture these rays of happiness and sunshine he gives my life. I want to capture every laugh and every smile, because I am so aware of their precious transience. Every time I hold him and smell his sweet innocence, I realize that one day the child’s softness will give way to the rough edges of boyhood, then the distance of manhood. And just as the smell and sound of baby Robert is now something to remember and smile about, this toddler Robert gives me at least one reason to smile every single day, and most of these smiles are worth mentioning and remembering.
Today Robert was carrying his books in one hand and his little green chair in the other and following the cat around. Mommy, I want cat he said to me. Why? I wanted to know. I want to read to cat, he said. I tried to cajole the disinterested Pete, and I managed to get him to sit at my feet while right across Robert sat on his chair and started “reading”one of his books to cat, all about Bo-Beep who lost her sheep. The cat, being his arrogant self, walked away quickly to the other room with Robert in tow, books in arm and chair dragged behind. He tried time after time to sit on his chair next to Pete and read to him, until finally he got tired of the futile task.
I was amused and happy at the same time. At least my boy has learned the love of books from his mom and was trying diligently to teach this to a smaller creature.
Robert is staying overnight with his father today. I was trying to keep him from falling asleep before his father’s arrival so we started packing his overnight bag.
We had to choose a toy. He first said he wanted Cannuck the white teddy bear and then said that he wanted the monkey as well. I said: “No Robert, there is no space for two toys it is either Cannuck or Monkey”. He thought for a little bit then took out Cannuck and put him back on the bedside table with the rest of the toys: “Take monkey to papa”, he said. Then on second thought he handed me the teddy bear and said:”This is for Mommy to hug”.
Sure thing my boy. You of all people will know that if it wasn’t for Cannuck I will have nobody to hug tonight. Sleep well and I will hug you tomorrow.
One day I will be able to devote time every day to my blog. One day I will sit to write down all the crazy thoughts that go through my mind and every single amazing thing that my boy is teaching me about life and love, but for now I will have to make my very infrequent readers settle for a smattering of posts whenver I can steal time from another urgent assigment (or one that looks like it will be running late.. like this one).
I have accomplished one more step towards my day of salvation when I succeeded in getting a helping hand for domestic work. For South Africa this is really normal, not a luxury at all, but for me well, I am not sure. For one thing, it seems to me very rude to make someone clean up your bathroom, and at the same time it is also giving up privacy. This is perhaps why a day before Vee came to work for me I had a dream of a maid coming into the flat then walking into the bedroom on me while I was engaged in an intimate act with … ah well stupid me, the ex husband – who else.
Vee will be the first one to know if I ever have a boyfriend, but of course the likelihood of this happening is pretty remote. Unfortunately even my subconcious knows this as it only puts the ex in my bed. In reality he would be there only if he were the last man alive on earth, and even then, maybe not, thank you very much. In any case, the dream was about Vee, not about my love life (or the lack thereof). I am definetely giving a stranger an intimate picture of my life, the colour of my underwear, the leftovers in my fridge, the tatty furniture, my son’s broken toys, and the coffee stains I am too lazy to scrub out of my mug. Still, it is great that I do not have to spend my free time on collecting dust balls and do something else instead and for that I am grateful.
On the homefront we are alive and well. I am busy again, and busy is good, especially given my plans to stop working at the day job sometime in the near future. I have a deadline next Friday, and then another by the end of the month. So who knows when I will be writing here again, and if I do it is probably going to be a whimsical post like this one.
But I do have many things to talk about and to think about. I am taking notes, and I will fill in the gaps at a later stage. Yes, I know I said that before.
Robert got hold of an onion today from my shopping bag. The following conversation took place:
Mom : Robert is the onion nice, do you like onion ?
What are you doing with the onion ?
Robert: Take the onion off the peal, take it off, take it off
Mom: And then what are you gonna do with it.
Robert (chomps up on the onion and starts chewing for an answer)
The onion is missing a little chunk and sometime after his first few bites his enthusiasm waned. I am amazed that he put up with the sharp taste of raw onion. He still smelled of onion as he went to bed. I wonder what his teacher will think if he still reeks of it tomorrow morning.
Incidentally, this is not the first time Robert displays a liking for the strong biting taste of onion. Last year, during our holiday in Germany he happily crunched a green onion, perhaps it gave him a anesthetizing sensation on his gum as he was teething.
I dropped off Robert at the day care, and because I had a few hours to kill I stopped with my laptop at a coffee shop that has a free wi-fi zone. I was totally out of place with the beautiful rich people, killing time and sipping coffee, but at least my laptop measured up. In my rush to pack up my laptop upon leaving home I forgot to equip my son’s schoolbag with nappies, everything comes at a price.
At eleven I had an appointment to look at the only flat I found in my price range AND in my area of interest. I Just wanted to reassure myself for a final time before I paid a deposit. As usual the place is not perfect but has some advantages over the one we live in right now. I went home and did the banking, paid a deposit then went for another appointment to view furniture being sold by a work colleague, I agreed to buy.
At about half past one I made my way under drizzling rain to pick up Robert from day care then onwards to the company garden where I had arranged to meet and spend an afternoon with my new friend D and her son, who is four years old.
We made a pretty picture, two women with similar colouring, two kids, one blond one with dark tightly curled hair, and no men in sight. D is also a divorcee so we had a few laughs comparing our situations.
The sun obliged and came out after we arrived at the gardens and the kids got to feed the squirrels and the pigeons. Robert mostly held on to the packet of peanuts and ate them himself until a cheeky little squirrel went up on its hind-legs and clambered up on his shirt trying to reach the little plastic bag held firmly in my boy’s fist. Robert was so surprised he dropped the packet and started howling… the image was worth a picture, but I was of course too surprised to capture the moment. D was quick to pick up Robert and comfort him, but his distress was mostly because he thought he lost the peanuts forever, and all was well when he reclaimed them. We made it as far as the museum, by way of statues of colonialists, bird cages and Koi ponds without Koi, and we ended the day at McGrease with two burgers, two happy meals and two very hyper kids, then D went with her son to catch the train while I half dragged half carried Robert to the minibus taxi stop.
I will be moving by the end of next week, but until now I have not arranged a moving team or packed a single item. But I arranged to spend the day tomorrow with another friend Jen, who will be bringing my boxes. I will also meet the owner of the furniture to give her a down payment. The money is going through my fingers like crazy, and I feel somewhat crazy myself.
We never gonna survive, unless we get a little crazy, and nobody says it better than my friend Alanis.
Yesterday was another day off school for Robert. He started the day with a terrible bout of diarrhea and went on like this for the rest of the day. I spent considerable amount of time at the changing table trying to prevent a leaking nappy disaster.
Scientifically, an ailment of this nature can only be caused by a virus, but I do not know why I am still blaming the cream cup cakes we both consumed greedily yesterday. I was buying our usual stuff from the supermarket when he saw these ones on the discount table and started crying out : muffin.. muffin, and of course I had to buy him something. Perhaps I made him my excuse because they were discounted and I fancied something sweet. I think next time there are more wholesome options, and I can buy him ONE bran muffin instead of a whole tray of cream cupcakes.
If it was not for another pressing translation assignment I would have enjoyed today’s break with my son a little more. It was a glorious warm autumn day with blue skies and sunshine, something that this part of the world is renowned for. I took Robert in his stroller up Victoria Road in the direction of Camps Bay and after a brief rest taking in the views of the Twelve Apostles and Clifton beaches we headed back towards our part of the world, and Robert got to walk as well on the promenade.
We do not get this fabulous weather all the time, though. This past weekend was disastrous in the Cape. The rain and gale force winds wreaked havoc in informal settlements (shanty towns) and on the Cape Flats (where flood damage is always greatest). I had quite a challenging time because I had to go to work and I was scheduled to drop off Robert with Britt’s nanny at their place. As is always the case Britt came to the rescue and offered to come and pick us up. She gave me a lift to work and back on that day too, something I only got once from my ex husband since our divorce. Compassion was never one of his strongest points.
On Sunday Robert was due to be with his father and the weather was better. I had the chance to put the laundry out in the sun for a few hours when I came back from work. My ex dropped off our son late and my poor baby was drenched in mud water from the knees down. My ex insisted that I not mention anything because Robert fell in a puddle and was very upset for at least half an hour after that. At home Robbie protested bitterly at being carried into the bath and the subsequent cleanup, but I did not sense anything was wrong, our afternoon proceeded normally with the usual bath-time and bedtime routine. I was very surprised when my ex phoned just as we were both drifting to sleep to ask how Robert was, it makes me wonder whether my ex was telling me everything about Robert’s misadventure.
Speaking of the tyke. I think he is starting the boy tradition of fascination with the gross. Whenever I change his diaper (and yesterday I had more of this experience than I care to count) he would give a comment on this, either: bum hurting (hetin) – meaning he has a nappy rash , ka ka toiten (he should have used the toilet) or just nappy on/ nappy off. Lately however he started commenting -I think- on the actual contents of the nappy.. gross. As I wrinkle my nose at the disgusting diapers and try hard to keep the squirming toddler from smearing it everywhere or putting his hands on his dirty bum he would go : “like avocado”… Yuk… Last night he volunteered: “Like Hummus” … I had a hard time fighting my gag reflex while laughing at the same time.
Our own Cape Times came out today with a full transcript of President Obama’s Inaugural Address, so now I have a record for it. Later I found a blog with embedded segments of the speech and its transcript, so I got to watch it, long after the excitement about the whole thing subsided, but I cannot complain since my time is not my own.
The Cape Times opened with the headline : The Age of Obama Begins, and the picture was of him taking the Oath of office. The thing that gave me a chuckle, however, was a tiny cartoon near the bottom of the first page.
We treated ourselves to a predominantly lazy day today. Mom, baby and cat played at home for the whole morning.
I consciously try teaching Robert the ability to laugh at his own mishaps. Here he is acting out a funny incident that happened a few weeks ago, while we were playing with soap bubbles (the non toxic, kid friendly variety; I always make sure to buy those). Normally I do not let Robert take the bottle of soap from me, but I relented on that day because there was very little soap left. It was a mistake of course, as toddlers are very apt at doing exactly what they shouldn’t and within a split second. I think Robert was looking inside the bottle when he tipped it bottoms up right onto his face and mouth. I just heard a loud gulp, and then he started crying and denouncing it as : ka-ka. Initially it was funny but then I remembered the horrible pain that one gets at the back of the throat when salt water goes up the nose. Robert must have felt the same. The liquid, which I tried when the crying did not want to stop, tasted so bitter that it numbed my tongue. This explained why Robert refused to drink or eat anything right after he gulped it. Thirty minutes later he settled to sleep exhausted and I thought this was the best thing for him to forget that awful bitter taste.
A day later I started acting out the incident, with sound effects and exaggerated facial expressions. Robert picked the whole act, and now does it by himself.
I thought today would be free of such misadventures, because we kept it such low key. In the afternoon we headed to the park and enjoyed the peace until a family arrived with their picnic supper. Robert of course went right in there trying to look inside cooler bags and generally being the inquisitive little toddler he is. Mom kept close trying to prevent him from making a nuisance of himself, but at the same time not wanting to curb his natural curiosity, especially that the family seemed friendly enough. Soon he started to become part of the picnic and took a fancy to the juice they offered him in tall plastic cup. He kept coming back to the dad and asking for “mo” (more). When I tried fooling him and pouring his own juice into the tumbler he promptly dumped the contents on the grass. Everyone thought this was wildly funny (including myself) but then he repeated the trick with the juice offered by our hosts, so I thought that was enough and we excused ourselves and headed home.
On our way back I stopped at a shop offering soft serve ice cream. Robert had eyed some kids on the road having it and I thought it would be a nice treat for him. We never got to taste the ice cream because when I offered the tall soft server to Robert for a first sampling the whole soft serve column tumbled onto his shirt and lap. He looked on unimpressed and confused as I mopped it up using the all purpose cloth/wipe which I always keep in the backpack. The poor shop keeper was also hovering around offering tissues and waste basket. As we were leaving he gave us another ice cream, a chocolate coated Popsicle, which we were still able to enjoy.
The Loskop Diaries 