Maybe the reason that Zoe was taken at 37 weeks is that God was being gracious in letting her live that long. Maybe she would have died much earlier, but survived to that point because we, friends and family prayed fervently that she would.
Now there's a thought for you...
If that's true, would I have wished things otherwise? If I knew that our prayers were keeping her alive, would I have continued to pray, or let her go? Would I have prayed harder so that she lived longer?
2 more weeks until we know whether there was a reason for her death...
Monday, April 30, 2007
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Our history
OK. I promised a post briefly summarising the walk we've had as a couple. Actually, I don't know how brief this will be, but I'll try my best.
Graeme and I met in 1993, and I knew instantly that he was the man for me. It took me about 9 months to convince him that I was worth dating. But we started dating in 1994. After dating for years, our relationship turned destructive for reasons I don't really want to get into in such a public space as this, and we broke up in 1997. After 6 months apart, we got engaged, and 6 months later we were married, in April 1998.
On honeymoon I became very ill, and proceeded to be incredibly ill for about 9 months. During these 9 months I developed bronchitis, then pneumonia, then pleurisy. The GP I was seeing basically told me that I either had to have bed rest at home, or be admitted into hospital, because if I didn't I was going to die.
Between the problems we'd had before we broke up and the stress of my illness, our marriage basically fell apart before it even started. Because my parents are divorced, and I've seen first hand what a divorce does to a family, I decided that if our marriage wasn't going to work, I'd rather get divorced early (ie after 9 months of marriage) than have kids and THEN have to get divorced. Graeme persuaded me to try marriage counselling, which we duly did, and it saved us (obviously, as we're still together!). While it didn't sort out our issues, it did give us a means of communicating with each other that enabled us to start to rebuild the trust that had been broken by our break-up. The other life-saver for us was that roughly 18 months after our marriage (in Feb 2000) we left South Africa for London.
This is not because there is anything wrong with SA, but because we needed to be in an environment that forced us to rely on each other, that took us completely out of our comfort zones and left us with absolutely no security other than God and each other. We left our families and our friends, and arrived in a city where we knew no-one, with no jobs and nowhere to stay. We also had the "joy" of supply teaching in a culture that is just different enough from SA culture to be completely disorientating. (Unless you've done it yourself, you won't believe the stories we could tell, so I won't regale you with any now.)
By the middle of 2000 we had both changed careers. Graeme was working in IT and I was working as a PA cum worship leader for my church. During 2001 I went through a course of particularly harrowing counselling and Graeme had a short course as well. It was necessary work, but Graeme didn't find it particularly helpful. I found most of it helpful, but it left me in a place that wasn't good. It helped me to forgive others who had hurt me through my life, but it didn't help me get to a place where I could forgive myself for my own actions. (Odd that I found it possible to accept God's forgiveness but not feel able to forgive myself...) So we both finished that feeling let down and isolated.
One day, when I have the courage to face my demons publicly, I'll write a book about it, because I think there are lots of Christians who need to know that even Christians sin, even Christians get it wrong. Christians can still be drug addicts, or prostitutes, or murderers, or child molesters. Just because we're saved does not mean we're sorted. It means we're on the road to being sorted, but some of us are just taking longer to get there than others. I think there are a lot of people who need to hear that. And I want to extend to them the kind of forgiveness and love and welcome that I doubt I would have received from most of my Christian friends if they knew what I'd done at the time... Anyway, that's off the topic....
Since then, as I've worked through the forgiveness issue, I found myself back working at various schools that required a lot of love on my part. Eventually, suffering from depression, I went for another bout of counselling, which helped fix the depression and made me realise that my job was killing me, and by proxy, my marriage. After being physically and verbally abused by some of the kids I taught, I resigned and moved to my last school, which was much better. Graeme was going through some personal stuff at this time as well, which I don't feel I can share - I'll leave that for him at another time.
One of the reasons my job was killing me and us is that I believed it was the wrong job. I had started to pursue the possibility of becoming an ordained minister in the Church of England. This is something I have wanted since I was a little girl, but till then, I had never dared to share this dream with anyone.
Anyway, everything went very smoothly until the last hurdle (selection conference), at which I was told that I wasn't suitable, for reasons that (even now) I find very hard to accept. I can't begin to explain how that affected me. It's the closest I have ever come to losing my faith, and it was touch and go for a long time. Because I hadn't shared the fact with many people that I was trying for ordination, our grief over my rejection (euphemistically called non-selection) was very private, and therefore all the more intense. As Graeme was struggling with his faith too, it wasn't easy for us to cope as a couple. At the time that we got the news about my non-selection, I fell pregnant with Janel. Trying to cope with that, on top of dealing with this massive rejection and the resulting faith fall-out was tough to say the least.
In the midst of all this, Graeme's family went through a rough time as his great-aunt, uncle and gran all died within about a year of each other. I sat the death-watch with his great-aunt. Saying that now sounds so benign, but it was one of the most harrowing events I've experienced. Graeme found the death of his gran particularly difficult as he couldn't attend her funeral.
But by the grace of God, we got through what was a very difficult period.
Then we fell pregnant with Zoe, and lost her... She's not the first child we've lost. We lost another one several years ago, at 8 weeks. We don't know the sex of that child, but we decided to name 'him' Malcolm. Losing a child... well, there just aren't words to describe how tough that is, so I won't try.
This post comes out of a comment I made about how tough a road we seem to have walked, rather than what an incredible experience our marriage has been. So if I've made it sound like our life has been a living hell for the last 14 years, be reassured that it hasn't. We've had times of joy - like watching Nellie grow up - this just wasn't the place to express them.
Graeme and I met in 1993, and I knew instantly that he was the man for me. It took me about 9 months to convince him that I was worth dating. But we started dating in 1994. After dating for years, our relationship turned destructive for reasons I don't really want to get into in such a public space as this, and we broke up in 1997. After 6 months apart, we got engaged, and 6 months later we were married, in April 1998.
On honeymoon I became very ill, and proceeded to be incredibly ill for about 9 months. During these 9 months I developed bronchitis, then pneumonia, then pleurisy. The GP I was seeing basically told me that I either had to have bed rest at home, or be admitted into hospital, because if I didn't I was going to die.
Between the problems we'd had before we broke up and the stress of my illness, our marriage basically fell apart before it even started. Because my parents are divorced, and I've seen first hand what a divorce does to a family, I decided that if our marriage wasn't going to work, I'd rather get divorced early (ie after 9 months of marriage) than have kids and THEN have to get divorced. Graeme persuaded me to try marriage counselling, which we duly did, and it saved us (obviously, as we're still together!). While it didn't sort out our issues, it did give us a means of communicating with each other that enabled us to start to rebuild the trust that had been broken by our break-up. The other life-saver for us was that roughly 18 months after our marriage (in Feb 2000) we left South Africa for London.
This is not because there is anything wrong with SA, but because we needed to be in an environment that forced us to rely on each other, that took us completely out of our comfort zones and left us with absolutely no security other than God and each other. We left our families and our friends, and arrived in a city where we knew no-one, with no jobs and nowhere to stay. We also had the "joy" of supply teaching in a culture that is just different enough from SA culture to be completely disorientating. (Unless you've done it yourself, you won't believe the stories we could tell, so I won't regale you with any now.)
By the middle of 2000 we had both changed careers. Graeme was working in IT and I was working as a PA cum worship leader for my church. During 2001 I went through a course of particularly harrowing counselling and Graeme had a short course as well. It was necessary work, but Graeme didn't find it particularly helpful. I found most of it helpful, but it left me in a place that wasn't good. It helped me to forgive others who had hurt me through my life, but it didn't help me get to a place where I could forgive myself for my own actions. (Odd that I found it possible to accept God's forgiveness but not feel able to forgive myself...) So we both finished that feeling let down and isolated.
One day, when I have the courage to face my demons publicly, I'll write a book about it, because I think there are lots of Christians who need to know that even Christians sin, even Christians get it wrong. Christians can still be drug addicts, or prostitutes, or murderers, or child molesters. Just because we're saved does not mean we're sorted. It means we're on the road to being sorted, but some of us are just taking longer to get there than others. I think there are a lot of people who need to hear that. And I want to extend to them the kind of forgiveness and love and welcome that I doubt I would have received from most of my Christian friends if they knew what I'd done at the time... Anyway, that's off the topic....
Since then, as I've worked through the forgiveness issue, I found myself back working at various schools that required a lot of love on my part. Eventually, suffering from depression, I went for another bout of counselling, which helped fix the depression and made me realise that my job was killing me, and by proxy, my marriage. After being physically and verbally abused by some of the kids I taught, I resigned and moved to my last school, which was much better. Graeme was going through some personal stuff at this time as well, which I don't feel I can share - I'll leave that for him at another time.
One of the reasons my job was killing me and us is that I believed it was the wrong job. I had started to pursue the possibility of becoming an ordained minister in the Church of England. This is something I have wanted since I was a little girl, but till then, I had never dared to share this dream with anyone.
Anyway, everything went very smoothly until the last hurdle (selection conference), at which I was told that I wasn't suitable, for reasons that (even now) I find very hard to accept. I can't begin to explain how that affected me. It's the closest I have ever come to losing my faith, and it was touch and go for a long time. Because I hadn't shared the fact with many people that I was trying for ordination, our grief over my rejection (euphemistically called non-selection) was very private, and therefore all the more intense. As Graeme was struggling with his faith too, it wasn't easy for us to cope as a couple. At the time that we got the news about my non-selection, I fell pregnant with Janel. Trying to cope with that, on top of dealing with this massive rejection and the resulting faith fall-out was tough to say the least.
In the midst of all this, Graeme's family went through a rough time as his great-aunt, uncle and gran all died within about a year of each other. I sat the death-watch with his great-aunt. Saying that now sounds so benign, but it was one of the most harrowing events I've experienced. Graeme found the death of his gran particularly difficult as he couldn't attend her funeral.
But by the grace of God, we got through what was a very difficult period.
Then we fell pregnant with Zoe, and lost her... She's not the first child we've lost. We lost another one several years ago, at 8 weeks. We don't know the sex of that child, but we decided to name 'him' Malcolm. Losing a child... well, there just aren't words to describe how tough that is, so I won't try.
This post comes out of a comment I made about how tough a road we seem to have walked, rather than what an incredible experience our marriage has been. So if I've made it sound like our life has been a living hell for the last 14 years, be reassured that it hasn't. We've had times of joy - like watching Nellie grow up - this just wasn't the place to express them.
Another weekend gone...
Graeme and I have returned from a weekend away on our own, courtesy of my in-laws. They figured we needed some 'us' time after everything we'd had to deal with this past month. Very nice of them, really.
So we went to a health resort hotel (not a spa - apparently there is a difference), but the jacuzzi wasn't working (chlorine levels too high) and the treatment rooms were fully booked for the entire weekend (so no massage or facials or anything else) so all we could actually use were the gym and the pool.... hmm..
As a result, we wound up benig tourists in the area. Went a small wine farm specialising in ciders, then had a shopping spree in Maidstone buying toys for Nellie (not as if she doesn't have enough or anything, but we just missed her so much!) and today we went to Hever Castle, which is stunning and well worth a visit. They have this awesome water maze there that the kids (big and small) just adored! It has 3 concentric rings of slabs, linked here and there by some other slabs. Some of the slabs are cantilevered, so that when you step on them, you get sprayed by jets of water. The trick is to find your way through the maze to the tower (you can climb up the inside of teh tower to get a lovely view of the grounds) without getting wet.
The weekend was a fabulous blessing to us, and I think we reconnected with each other and ourselves in a very special way. I was saying to G at one point that a part of my personality that hasn't been seen since we were on honeymoon was finally coming out again. We've walked such a rough road since our marriage back in '98. (For those who don't know about it all, I'll try to summarise it briefly for you in the next post.)
Some of you have probably heard about the 4.3 earthquake we had here in southern England. Well, we were only a few miles from the epicentre... although as we lay in bed watching the news about half an hour after it had happened, Graeme did ask me whether the earth had moved for me.... I'm pleased to report that we were far enough away that we didn't feel a thing.
I had a FANTASTIC belly laugh on Sat evening. I was lying in bed, exhausted after a very long evening (we had stayed up till nearly midnight to catch a re-run of 'Have I Got News For You'). Graeme was in the bathroom getting ready for bed. I stretched, yawned and made Nellie's-very-tired noises (where she moans, but with the dummy in her mouth), to which Graeme responded with some very arbitrary remark (so much so, I can't even remember it now! I think it was something about going to buy something for me). However, I was so tired, and his response seemed so off the wall, that I promptly fell apart laughing. In fact, I laughed so much I wasn't sure whether I was laughing or crying; I laughed so much I had a mild asthma attack (only to discover that the pump I had with me was empty). Man! I've missed laughing like that.
Since getting home, I've been reading some of my favourite blogs, and found these words by Bob Dylan... (my vicar/ minister, Stephen, would be so proud of me!)
"I stood unwound beneath the skies
And clouds unbound by laws.
The cryin' rain like a trumpet sang
And asked for no applause.
Lay down your weary tune, lay down,
Lay down the song you strum,
And rest yourself 'neath the strength of strings
No voice can hope to hum."
I feel like I'm starting to let go of the pain of losing and I'm starting to see the sunshine again.
Graeme starts grief counselling tomorrow. He's going to have a few sessions on his own, and then I'll join him for some couples counselling. I know that there will still be dark days ahead, and the counselling will no doubt spark stuff in us, but at the moment I don't feel like I'm carrying this massive weight on my shoulders anymore, and I thank God for that!
So we went to a health resort hotel (not a spa - apparently there is a difference), but the jacuzzi wasn't working (chlorine levels too high) and the treatment rooms were fully booked for the entire weekend (so no massage or facials or anything else) so all we could actually use were the gym and the pool.... hmm..
As a result, we wound up benig tourists in the area. Went a small wine farm specialising in ciders, then had a shopping spree in Maidstone buying toys for Nellie (not as if she doesn't have enough or anything, but we just missed her so much!) and today we went to Hever Castle, which is stunning and well worth a visit. They have this awesome water maze there that the kids (big and small) just adored! It has 3 concentric rings of slabs, linked here and there by some other slabs. Some of the slabs are cantilevered, so that when you step on them, you get sprayed by jets of water. The trick is to find your way through the maze to the tower (you can climb up the inside of teh tower to get a lovely view of the grounds) without getting wet.
The weekend was a fabulous blessing to us, and I think we reconnected with each other and ourselves in a very special way. I was saying to G at one point that a part of my personality that hasn't been seen since we were on honeymoon was finally coming out again. We've walked such a rough road since our marriage back in '98. (For those who don't know about it all, I'll try to summarise it briefly for you in the next post.)
Some of you have probably heard about the 4.3 earthquake we had here in southern England. Well, we were only a few miles from the epicentre... although as we lay in bed watching the news about half an hour after it had happened, Graeme did ask me whether the earth had moved for me.... I'm pleased to report that we were far enough away that we didn't feel a thing.
I had a FANTASTIC belly laugh on Sat evening. I was lying in bed, exhausted after a very long evening (we had stayed up till nearly midnight to catch a re-run of 'Have I Got News For You'). Graeme was in the bathroom getting ready for bed. I stretched, yawned and made Nellie's-very-tired noises (where she moans, but with the dummy in her mouth), to which Graeme responded with some very arbitrary remark (so much so, I can't even remember it now! I think it was something about going to buy something for me). However, I was so tired, and his response seemed so off the wall, that I promptly fell apart laughing. In fact, I laughed so much I wasn't sure whether I was laughing or crying; I laughed so much I had a mild asthma attack (only to discover that the pump I had with me was empty). Man! I've missed laughing like that.
Since getting home, I've been reading some of my favourite blogs, and found these words by Bob Dylan... (my vicar/ minister, Stephen, would be so proud of me!)
"I stood unwound beneath the skies
And clouds unbound by laws.
The cryin' rain like a trumpet sang
And asked for no applause.
Lay down your weary tune, lay down,
Lay down the song you strum,
And rest yourself 'neath the strength of strings
No voice can hope to hum."
I feel like I'm starting to let go of the pain of losing and I'm starting to see the sunshine again.
Graeme starts grief counselling tomorrow. He's going to have a few sessions on his own, and then I'll join him for some couples counselling. I know that there will still be dark days ahead, and the counselling will no doubt spark stuff in us, but at the moment I don't feel like I'm carrying this massive weight on my shoulders anymore, and I thank God for that!
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Graeme's blog
Well, he's made a start! The link is on the right, under 'Check these out...', listed as (rather helpfully I thought) 'Graeme's blog'.
More pics and TONS of frustration
Thanks to Ash for these lovely pics!
This is Nellie with Bradley, one of the other kids our childminder looks after. He's been like a big brother to Nellie, and she copies everything he does and says, and follows him everywhere. She also bullies him when she can - takes toys from him, pushes him off chairs, that kind of thing.
Latest skill - sitting the right way around on toy cars/ motorbikes and pushing herself FORWARDS, not just backwards! Doesn't she look so proud of herself here?
And a new favourite activity - playing with the straps on her pushchair/ car seat. She knows where & how they're supposed to fit together, but she doesn't yet have the fine motor coordination to put them together. She's trying though - it's better than a puzzle! It keeps her occupied for long stretches of time, which is especially useful when you're standing in a long queue!
Speaking of queues... we stood in one for over an hour this morning trying to sort out her SA passport etc. What a saga! We registered her birth & applied for her passport back in SA in March last year. We thought we were being clever. As it takes 4-6 months to process (you just gotta LOVE the SA Home Affairs department's efficiency!) we were told not to check up on the applications until at least 6 months had passed. This we duly did. After 6 months, we called. No sorry, they have no record of our application. We faxed all the receipts etc to prove that we had made the application. No sorry, they have no record of our application. We must apply again, and no, sorry, they will not refund us our fees.
So, we duly applied again. This time from the UK, via the SA consulate in London. But it took us a while because you can't download the forms off the web (although it says you can) and their phone system is an automated one that does not allow you to leave a message. Oh, and you can't go in to their office - they don't accept visitors without an appointment, and you can only make an appointment for a passport application once you have the forms and an application number.
In frustration I eventually wrote to them to ask for the forms. Forms were duly posted to us. We completed them, and sent them back. They were sent back to us because we'd missed something off (which was not listed in the 'supporting documents you need to send with your application' list. Then - silence. Nothing. So, 2 weeks ago I wrote to them again, explaining that as we are planning to move back to SA at the end of June (and they lost our documentation the first time around) I'd like to know where we are in the process. And then... silence. No response.
Yesterday though, I finally get a call. Didn't I receive a letter from them on the 20th March? No, I did not. Oh, well then they'll have to post me the forms again because we missed a spot where we had to sign something. (AAARRGGHHH!!) Ever so sweetly I ask whether it won't be possible for us to come in to the office to sign them - explaining again that they'd been lost the 1st time around and that we needed them done ASAP because we're moving home. Oh yes, no problem. Just come to the office any time in the morning and let the security guard know who we're coming to see.
So - early this morning we arrive (they only open at 9am and there was already a queue). The guard/ doorman is only letting people through who have an appointment and whose name appears on his list. (I just have to say how typically African this mentality is - we only live by the letter of the law, not the spirit of the law!) However, after explaining that we'd been called by one of the clerks and what we needed to do, he eventually let us in...
... where we proceeded to wait for about 30 minutes or more for the clerk we needed to see...
... only to sign the form in 2 places where (and get a load of this) there was no indication that we needed to sign and no line on which to sign...
... and then to discover that there was YET another form we needed to fill in that was not on the 'documents you need to send with your application' list...
...which requires us to fill in the ID numbers of both of one our sets of parents. Yes, like we carry that sort of info around with us all the time. I don't even know Graeme's ID number, and I'm supposed to just remember my parents' ones too?! And am I allowed to use my mobile phone (cell) to call them to get the info? No, phone use is banned in the Consulate. So, I duly ignored that rule and called my mother... (I figured one ID number was better than none.)... 3 times because reception was so poor she could barely hear me and I didn't want to shout as that would attract attention to the fact that I was illegally using my phone....
AAARRRGGHHH!!!
And then, after all that, we STILL have to wait 4-6 months for the application, even though it's now been 2 months since we started this whole process with the Consulate!
Very sweetly, and trying very hard not to lose my rag with the poor clerk (after all, SA civil servants do not have minds of their own or think for themselves, they only do exactly what they are told to - nothing more, nothing less), I asked if there was any way we could speed the process up (given they'd lost our documentation and we need Nellie's passport by the end of June so she can legally enter SA because her British one isn't good enough if we're moving back permanently because she doesn't have residency yet....)? No. At least, there isn't any way it can be done from the Consulate. (I mean - COME ON!! - this is the CONSULATE for crying out loud!!!)
No, what has to happen is that WE have to phone Pretoria Home Affairs ourselves, explain the situation all over again, and hope and pray we get a nice clerk on the other end of the line, because they're just the London Consulate Office, and apparently Home Affairs will take more notice of us than of them. Hmm... ja well no fine. (Now there's a good old South African expression!) If we do get a nice friendly clerk (CHANCES?!), then we might be able to get it early. If not, then we will have to apply for emergency travel documents for Nellie.....
I'm very tempted just to ignore the whole thing and pretend we're going home on holiday so she can get a 3 month visa. Her application OUGHT to be done by then... right? Or is that hoping for too much from our lovely government?
This is Nellie with Bradley, one of the other kids our childminder looks after. He's been like a big brother to Nellie, and she copies everything he does and says, and follows him everywhere. She also bullies him when she can - takes toys from him, pushes him off chairs, that kind of thing.
Latest skill - sitting the right way around on toy cars/ motorbikes and pushing herself FORWARDS, not just backwards! Doesn't she look so proud of herself here?
And a new favourite activity - playing with the straps on her pushchair/ car seat. She knows where & how they're supposed to fit together, but she doesn't yet have the fine motor coordination to put them together. She's trying though - it's better than a puzzle! It keeps her occupied for long stretches of time, which is especially useful when you're standing in a long queue!Speaking of queues... we stood in one for over an hour this morning trying to sort out her SA passport etc. What a saga! We registered her birth & applied for her passport back in SA in March last year. We thought we were being clever. As it takes 4-6 months to process (you just gotta LOVE the SA Home Affairs department's efficiency!) we were told not to check up on the applications until at least 6 months had passed. This we duly did. After 6 months, we called. No sorry, they have no record of our application. We faxed all the receipts etc to prove that we had made the application. No sorry, they have no record of our application. We must apply again, and no, sorry, they will not refund us our fees.
So, we duly applied again. This time from the UK, via the SA consulate in London. But it took us a while because you can't download the forms off the web (although it says you can) and their phone system is an automated one that does not allow you to leave a message. Oh, and you can't go in to their office - they don't accept visitors without an appointment, and you can only make an appointment for a passport application once you have the forms and an application number.
In frustration I eventually wrote to them to ask for the forms. Forms were duly posted to us. We completed them, and sent them back. They were sent back to us because we'd missed something off (which was not listed in the 'supporting documents you need to send with your application' list. Then - silence. Nothing. So, 2 weeks ago I wrote to them again, explaining that as we are planning to move back to SA at the end of June (and they lost our documentation the first time around) I'd like to know where we are in the process. And then... silence. No response.
Yesterday though, I finally get a call. Didn't I receive a letter from them on the 20th March? No, I did not. Oh, well then they'll have to post me the forms again because we missed a spot where we had to sign something. (AAARRGGHHH!!) Ever so sweetly I ask whether it won't be possible for us to come in to the office to sign them - explaining again that they'd been lost the 1st time around and that we needed them done ASAP because we're moving home. Oh yes, no problem. Just come to the office any time in the morning and let the security guard know who we're coming to see.
So - early this morning we arrive (they only open at 9am and there was already a queue). The guard/ doorman is only letting people through who have an appointment and whose name appears on his list. (I just have to say how typically African this mentality is - we only live by the letter of the law, not the spirit of the law!) However, after explaining that we'd been called by one of the clerks and what we needed to do, he eventually let us in...
... where we proceeded to wait for about 30 minutes or more for the clerk we needed to see...
... only to sign the form in 2 places where (and get a load of this) there was no indication that we needed to sign and no line on which to sign...
... and then to discover that there was YET another form we needed to fill in that was not on the 'documents you need to send with your application' list...
...which requires us to fill in the ID numbers of both of one our sets of parents. Yes, like we carry that sort of info around with us all the time. I don't even know Graeme's ID number, and I'm supposed to just remember my parents' ones too?! And am I allowed to use my mobile phone (cell) to call them to get the info? No, phone use is banned in the Consulate. So, I duly ignored that rule and called my mother... (I figured one ID number was better than none.)... 3 times because reception was so poor she could barely hear me and I didn't want to shout as that would attract attention to the fact that I was illegally using my phone....
AAARRRGGHHH!!!
And then, after all that, we STILL have to wait 4-6 months for the application, even though it's now been 2 months since we started this whole process with the Consulate!
Very sweetly, and trying very hard not to lose my rag with the poor clerk (after all, SA civil servants do not have minds of their own or think for themselves, they only do exactly what they are told to - nothing more, nothing less), I asked if there was any way we could speed the process up (given they'd lost our documentation and we need Nellie's passport by the end of June so she can legally enter SA because her British one isn't good enough if we're moving back permanently because she doesn't have residency yet....)? No. At least, there isn't any way it can be done from the Consulate. (I mean - COME ON!! - this is the CONSULATE for crying out loud!!!)
No, what has to happen is that WE have to phone Pretoria Home Affairs ourselves, explain the situation all over again, and hope and pray we get a nice clerk on the other end of the line, because they're just the London Consulate Office, and apparently Home Affairs will take more notice of us than of them. Hmm... ja well no fine. (Now there's a good old South African expression!) If we do get a nice friendly clerk (CHANCES?!), then we might be able to get it early. If not, then we will have to apply for emergency travel documents for Nellie.....
I'm very tempted just to ignore the whole thing and pretend we're going home on holiday so she can get a 3 month visa. Her application OUGHT to be done by then... right? Or is that hoping for too much from our lovely government?
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Learning all the time
It's amazing how much kids learn and how quickly!
Yesterday, Nellie not only sucked on a straw for the first time (as opposed to blowing on a straw), but she managed to consume a large amount of my fruit frappacino using one! Her face when she first did it, and got a mouthful of cold juice, was a picture. I wish I'd been paying attention and had my camera ready!!
Then today she learnt to give a 'high 5'. How cute is that?
Yesterday, Nellie not only sucked on a straw for the first time (as opposed to blowing on a straw), but she managed to consume a large amount of my fruit frappacino using one! Her face when she first did it, and got a mouthful of cold juice, was a picture. I wish I'd been paying attention and had my camera ready!!
Then today she learnt to give a 'high 5'. How cute is that?
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