Just wanted to say hi to the readers from....
Greenpoint, CT
Kensington, JHB
Horsham, UK
Barcelona, Spain
Alpharetta, (Atlanta) USA
Beltsville, (Maryland) USA
Thanks for stopping by today. Even if you're just lurking and don't comment, it's nice to know you're out there.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Do you?
Every night we pray with Nellie before she goes to sleep. While I don't think she yet understands that we're actually talking to Jesus, she loves the routine of it. We do the 'Thank you, sorry, please' routine. And every night it goes something like this:
Me: What do you want to thank Jesus for tonight?
Nellie: Leo, Tigger, Barney, Bessie, Bears, Safira10 Magenta Penguin, my curtains, my pictures that Daddy put up.
Me: Anything else?
Nellie: No.
Every night. Without fail. Same list. Same order. She's had the same list (up to Safira10) since we started praying with her - MONTHS ago, maybe a year or more now. In the event of there being something to add, it's added at the end and nothing it taken away.
Every night I have a huge mental sigh waiting for her to get the list out. Every night I have to bite my tongue from rushing her through it. Yes, yes, I think to myself. LeoTiggerBarneyBessieBears..... get on with it!!
But tonight, as I was waiting for her to say the list, I found myself wondering why she has the same list. Why does she feel the need to continually thank Jesus for the same things, over and over again? I think Jesus gets it. I think he understands how grateful she is.
Then I remembered something someone said to me earlier this week at cell group about thanksgiving. In talking about prayer, this person had heard someone else tell about his journey. Gentleman X kept a diary of how long it took God to answer his prayers. Then he started an experiment and thanked God for as long as it took for God to answer. So, if it took 3 months for his prayer to be answered, he would go on thanking God for the reply for 3 months after it was answered. (Interestingly, Gentleman X noted that after starting this experiment the average time it took for his prayers to be answered decreased.)
The point was made that we're so quick to get upset when God takes his time in answering, but when he does, we're also quick to forget the answer. Surely we should take better stock of the answers to prayer we receive by thanking God a bit more often and consciously?
Maybe Janel has a point. Leo is very, very precious to her, therefore she goes on thanking God for him - thankful that he hasn't been lost, or broken, or hidden away by Mommy/ Daddy. Tigger is another sleep partner who keeps her safe from falling out of the bed (he lies between her and her sleep guard/ gate). Maybe she goes on thanking God for him because he's a special gift from Granny. Maybe she just appreciates how fortunate she is to have all this stuff - new curtains, toys, pretty pictures.*
Certainly, there is a lesson for me in there. Although I am extremely grateful for my children, surely of far more value than toys and haberdashery, and although I do thank God for them, do I thank him daily for them? Do I thank him daily for the roof over my head, the food in my cupboards, the clothes on my back, my job, my car, for all the gazillion things I have benefited from as a result of being white during Apartheid?
Do I count my blessings daily and thank God for them? Do you?
*Then again, maybe she just likes the routine, like brushing her teeth and eating her vitamins in the morning, without thinking deeply about them all, without understanding that prayer is a conversation with her Creator. Who knows what she really thinks?! It doesn't really matter though - the lesson remains.
Me: What do you want to thank Jesus for tonight?
Nellie: Leo, Tigger, Barney, Bessie, Bears, Safira10 Magenta Penguin, my curtains, my pictures that Daddy put up.
Me: Anything else?
Nellie: No.
Every night. Without fail. Same list. Same order. She's had the same list (up to Safira10) since we started praying with her - MONTHS ago, maybe a year or more now. In the event of there being something to add, it's added at the end and nothing it taken away.
Every night I have a huge mental sigh waiting for her to get the list out. Every night I have to bite my tongue from rushing her through it. Yes, yes, I think to myself. LeoTiggerBarneyBessieBears..... get on with it!!
But tonight, as I was waiting for her to say the list, I found myself wondering why she has the same list. Why does she feel the need to continually thank Jesus for the same things, over and over again? I think Jesus gets it. I think he understands how grateful she is.
Then I remembered something someone said to me earlier this week at cell group about thanksgiving. In talking about prayer, this person had heard someone else tell about his journey. Gentleman X kept a diary of how long it took God to answer his prayers. Then he started an experiment and thanked God for as long as it took for God to answer. So, if it took 3 months for his prayer to be answered, he would go on thanking God for the reply for 3 months after it was answered. (Interestingly, Gentleman X noted that after starting this experiment the average time it took for his prayers to be answered decreased.)
The point was made that we're so quick to get upset when God takes his time in answering, but when he does, we're also quick to forget the answer. Surely we should take better stock of the answers to prayer we receive by thanking God a bit more often and consciously?
Maybe Janel has a point. Leo is very, very precious to her, therefore she goes on thanking God for him - thankful that he hasn't been lost, or broken, or hidden away by Mommy/ Daddy. Tigger is another sleep partner who keeps her safe from falling out of the bed (he lies between her and her sleep guard/ gate). Maybe she goes on thanking God for him because he's a special gift from Granny. Maybe she just appreciates how fortunate she is to have all this stuff - new curtains, toys, pretty pictures.*
Certainly, there is a lesson for me in there. Although I am extremely grateful for my children, surely of far more value than toys and haberdashery, and although I do thank God for them, do I thank him daily for them? Do I thank him daily for the roof over my head, the food in my cupboards, the clothes on my back, my job, my car, for all the gazillion things I have benefited from as a result of being white during Apartheid?
Do I count my blessings daily and thank God for them? Do you?
*Then again, maybe she just likes the routine, like brushing her teeth and eating her vitamins in the morning, without thinking deeply about them all, without understanding that prayer is a conversation with her Creator. Who knows what she really thinks?! It doesn't really matter though - the lesson remains.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Dialling it down, and up.
Cell phones. What miracles! I LOVE my phone. Can't live without it. When I can't get onto FB* via my computer, I can at least still get some access via my beautiful, wonderful phone. I can tweet from my phone. (OH! How do I love thee, Twitter... let me count the ways...) I can blog from my phone. I can listen to FM radio on my phone (but not CapeTalk... darn it! I need an AM radio phone too). I can chat to my students on MXit and give them help after hours. I can email from my phone. I can even, oh yes - now I remember why I bought it! - take photos and videos with my phone. I love my phone.
For the longest time, I've been trying to convince our principal to remove the ban on phones by trying to convince him of their educational value. (While he agrees they MAY have value educationally, we're agreed that the safety of our kids is of greater importance. At the start of this year a girl was mugged at gun point right outside the school gates for her phone. This is not an isolated incident... it happens with astonishing regularity - at least once or twice a year, if not once a term.) Phones can be used to create podcasts, or video clips. They can be used to check out things on Google Earth. They can be used to inspire and capture a disenfranchised 'audience' through creating competitions. They can be used for research/ data capture purposes (sms 5 people you think might know the answer - how many actually did?) They can be used to access special cell phone applications, like the SA designed Maths help programme (real time help and support via MXit). They can be used to help kids summarise information and check learning (can you explain this concept to me in one sms?). The list is only as long as your ability to be innovative and creative. From a school perspective, phones can be fantastic.
Have I mentioned recently how much I love cell phones?
(I will be the first to admit that all things are good in moderation. Cell phones in live performances or movies - NOT good. Cell phones in libraries - NOT good. Cell phones used for bullying purposes at school - definitely NOT good.)
So imagine my joy to discover that phones are also helping to dial down the cost of food! I kid you not. Having a cell phone reduces the cost of your food. Don't believe me? Then check this out... Go on. I'll wait while you read it and come back here. Seriously. Go read it.
Now doesn't that just make the most incredible sense? I LOVE my phone! (as long as it's working!)
And how did I find out about this? Twitter**, of course. (Where else would I get all my news from these days? I certainly don't have time to sit and watch TV when I'm so busy blogging, etc!) Dial it up!
____________________________________________________________________
* FB = FaceBook
**People say that Twitter is just a fad, or that they don't see the point of Twitter. For me this is just one of countless examples of how twitter is revolutionising the world we live in. I don't have time to read all the (decent) newspapers out there. I don't have time to keep up to date with local, national and international news, let alone keep up with the research in my field or in the other fields I'm interested in, or even with the recreational stuff like the latest movies. (Some great person once said: of the making of books there will be no end, and much study wearies the body. Hmm... could that be from the Bible?!?!?! OMW, I just think it could be!) The way I do it, is through Twitter. Twitter gives me one-liners about all of those things. I can then read them all in about 1 min, and choose which ones to read more about. That way, I know a little about everything, and everything about a few things. (Ja, I'm wending my way to wisdom and greatness!)
For the longest time, I've been trying to convince our principal to remove the ban on phones by trying to convince him of their educational value. (While he agrees they MAY have value educationally, we're agreed that the safety of our kids is of greater importance. At the start of this year a girl was mugged at gun point right outside the school gates for her phone. This is not an isolated incident... it happens with astonishing regularity - at least once or twice a year, if not once a term.) Phones can be used to create podcasts, or video clips. They can be used to check out things on Google Earth. They can be used to inspire and capture a disenfranchised 'audience' through creating competitions. They can be used for research/ data capture purposes (sms 5 people you think might know the answer - how many actually did?) They can be used to access special cell phone applications, like the SA designed Maths help programme (real time help and support via MXit). They can be used to help kids summarise information and check learning (can you explain this concept to me in one sms?). The list is only as long as your ability to be innovative and creative. From a school perspective, phones can be fantastic.
Have I mentioned recently how much I love cell phones?
(I will be the first to admit that all things are good in moderation. Cell phones in live performances or movies - NOT good. Cell phones in libraries - NOT good. Cell phones used for bullying purposes at school - definitely NOT good.)
So imagine my joy to discover that phones are also helping to dial down the cost of food! I kid you not. Having a cell phone reduces the cost of your food. Don't believe me? Then check this out... Go on. I'll wait while you read it and come back here. Seriously. Go read it.
Now doesn't that just make the most incredible sense? I LOVE my phone! (as long as it's working!)
And how did I find out about this? Twitter**, of course. (Where else would I get all my news from these days? I certainly don't have time to sit and watch TV when I'm so busy blogging, etc!) Dial it up!
____________________________________________________________________
* FB = FaceBook
**People say that Twitter is just a fad, or that they don't see the point of Twitter. For me this is just one of countless examples of how twitter is revolutionising the world we live in. I don't have time to read all the (decent) newspapers out there. I don't have time to keep up to date with local, national and international news, let alone keep up with the research in my field or in the other fields I'm interested in, or even with the recreational stuff like the latest movies. (Some great person once said: of the making of books there will be no end, and much study wearies the body. Hmm... could that be from the Bible?!?!?! OMW, I just think it could be!) The way I do it, is through Twitter. Twitter gives me one-liners about all of those things. I can then read them all in about 1 min, and choose which ones to read more about. That way, I know a little about everything, and everything about a few things. (Ja, I'm wending my way to wisdom and greatness!)
Paying it forwards, or upwards?
It's every mother's nightmare - a baby that just won't stop crying. I never thought it would be mine. I guess I should have anticipated it. After all, one doesn't get to give one's own mother hell and then expect not to receive payment in kind. This must be a weird kid of paying it forward scheme.
Yup, I apparently gave my poor mother so much grief with my colic that not only did she wind up drinking my gripe water (which in those days contained alcohol), but she also threatened to throw me out of the first floor window. Sorry, Mom!! I still love you - you know that, right?
And now it's my turn. Again. I thought Nellie's colic was pay-back enough. Apparently not. Apparently both my children have seen fit to give me hell as pay-back for what I did to my mother. But, unfortunately for Nate, this time around I am older and wiser. I gave him 7 weeks to get over himself. I held him upright during feeding, slept with him on my chest, rocked him, patted him, sang to him, shushed him, bounced him, jiggled him, pushed him in his pram, drove him around in the car. Nothing worked. So, I gave him drugs. No joy. Then I gave him alcohol. That worked, as a short term solution. Then I gave him more drugs (since the first ones weren't working)... which also didn't really help.
After being awake for 8 hours (2.30am - noon, bar 2 hrs from 5-7am), I eventually decided to pull out the big guns, the mother-load cure-all. I took him to see a chiropractor.
Now some people don't do 'alternative therapies'. Me? I love them, but only after I've tried the conventional stuff. I actually wanted to take him to BSR (Body Stress Release), but hubby has a generous dose of scepticism. Of course, the fact that BSR has helped (and continues to help) me prevent my sciatica from returning when physio, chiropractics and acupuncture failed, doesn't seem to feature in his decision. Anyway!
Of course, being me, once I've decided that this is what I'm going to do, I want an appointment YESTERDAY already. And of course, no-one can accommodate me. Eventually, I turn on the waterworks (or rather, I couldn't stop myself from crying out of desperation, if truth be told) and basically beg for one. It works, and we got an appointment yesterday... but it's all the way past the Boerewors curtain, so the trip there and back is about 3 times the length of the actual treatment itself. The things we do for love ...
... and peace and sanity and sleep... let's not kid ourselves that this is entirely for Nate. Oh no! This is for me too. I want to sleep again. I NEEEED to sleep again.
So off we go to the chiropractor. I was worried that Nate would suddenly become an angel, and she would think I was imagining it. I needed have worried. Nope. The poor kid screamed his way through the entire session. Well done, my boy! Protect your mother's image!
Apparently, his spine is 'very tight'. As a biologist, I thought it was a good thing that your vertebrae held on tightly to one another. You know - protect the spinal cord and spinal nerves, and all that. But there is tight, and 'very tight', apparently. The former is good. The latter, not so much.
So has it worked, I hear you ask? Hmm... if you call sleeping an improvement, then yes, I think it has. Of course, we have at least one more session to go. (I'm thinking about how Jesus healed the blind man in stages...) But at least he's sleeping. He is still vomiting up milk, he still has reflux, he's still a bit constipated - but at least he's now sleeping again, and not just sleeping, but actually sleeping in his own bed (and not on my chest/ in the sling/ on Priscilla's back).
If we've gone from no sleep to sleep in one session, what, I wonder, will tomorrow's session hold for us????
Yup, I apparently gave my poor mother so much grief with my colic that not only did she wind up drinking my gripe water (which in those days contained alcohol), but she also threatened to throw me out of the first floor window. Sorry, Mom!! I still love you - you know that, right?
And now it's my turn. Again. I thought Nellie's colic was pay-back enough. Apparently not. Apparently both my children have seen fit to give me hell as pay-back for what I did to my mother. But, unfortunately for Nate, this time around I am older and wiser. I gave him 7 weeks to get over himself. I held him upright during feeding, slept with him on my chest, rocked him, patted him, sang to him, shushed him, bounced him, jiggled him, pushed him in his pram, drove him around in the car. Nothing worked. So, I gave him drugs. No joy. Then I gave him alcohol. That worked, as a short term solution. Then I gave him more drugs (since the first ones weren't working)... which also didn't really help.
After being awake for 8 hours (2.30am - noon, bar 2 hrs from 5-7am), I eventually decided to pull out the big guns, the mother-load cure-all. I took him to see a chiropractor.
Now some people don't do 'alternative therapies'. Me? I love them, but only after I've tried the conventional stuff. I actually wanted to take him to BSR (Body Stress Release), but hubby has a generous dose of scepticism. Of course, the fact that BSR has helped (and continues to help) me prevent my sciatica from returning when physio, chiropractics and acupuncture failed, doesn't seem to feature in his decision. Anyway!
Of course, being me, once I've decided that this is what I'm going to do, I want an appointment YESTERDAY already. And of course, no-one can accommodate me. Eventually, I turn on the waterworks (or rather, I couldn't stop myself from crying out of desperation, if truth be told) and basically beg for one. It works, and we got an appointment yesterday... but it's all the way past the Boerewors curtain, so the trip there and back is about 3 times the length of the actual treatment itself. The things we do for love ...
... and peace and sanity and sleep... let's not kid ourselves that this is entirely for Nate. Oh no! This is for me too. I want to sleep again. I NEEEED to sleep again.
So off we go to the chiropractor. I was worried that Nate would suddenly become an angel, and she would think I was imagining it. I needed have worried. Nope. The poor kid screamed his way through the entire session. Well done, my boy! Protect your mother's image!
Apparently, his spine is 'very tight'. As a biologist, I thought it was a good thing that your vertebrae held on tightly to one another. You know - protect the spinal cord and spinal nerves, and all that. But there is tight, and 'very tight', apparently. The former is good. The latter, not so much.
So has it worked, I hear you ask? Hmm... if you call sleeping an improvement, then yes, I think it has. Of course, we have at least one more session to go. (I'm thinking about how Jesus healed the blind man in stages...) But at least he's sleeping. He is still vomiting up milk, he still has reflux, he's still a bit constipated - but at least he's now sleeping again, and not just sleeping, but actually sleeping in his own bed (and not on my chest/ in the sling/ on Priscilla's back).
If we've gone from no sleep to sleep in one session, what, I wonder, will tomorrow's session hold for us????
Monday, July 27, 2009
Who needs locks to childproof a home?!
My sister-in-law sent me this video clip via email. It was just too cute not to share. I have no idea where it comes from, so apologies to whoever owns it that I can't acknowledge you properly. (If anyone knows whose it is, please let me know so that I can do so.)
Then, when I tried to upload it from my computer, it crashed. So, now I've embedded it from YouTube. Sigh! Anyway, at least you can get to enjoy it.
Then, when I tried to upload it from my computer, it crashed. So, now I've embedded it from YouTube. Sigh! Anyway, at least you can get to enjoy it.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Waking faces
Inspired by my sister-in-law's collage of her baby waking up, I decided to take a few shots of Nathan as he woke. Starting top left with him asleep and finishing bottom right with him awake.
Friday, July 24, 2009
Of bikes and impossibilities
Remember how, when you were little, older relatives (notice I didn't say 'old'? Sure, they seemed old to you then, but you're probably their age now and don't feel old - I know I don't - so I thought I'd be generous.) were forever commenting on how fast you were growing? The awful ones would always grab your cheeks, or pat you on the head. When you have kids around you, not necessarily your own, you begin to understand why. They really DO grow up fast.
Take Nellie. (Not literally. I will have to bring out the double barrel shotgun if you do.) Only 5 weeks ago she got a pedal-less bicycle (also known as a run bike or balance bike). In part this was a diversion from Nathan's homecoming. In part it was something we'd been planning to get her for ages to help her gross motor development (which is lacking... more on that some other time). 6 weeks ago she was only able to walk a few paces with it before falling over. Today, she amazed me with her improved balance.
"Mommy, look at meeee!' she called. I looked up. Racing away from me, down the road, Nellie was at first pushing her bike with alternate feet, then with both feet together, and then suddenly, she had both feet off the ground and was coasting down the road. She managed to keep her balance for several long seconds before the road came to an end in a neighbour's driveway and she had to turn back. Amazingly, she navigated the turn without stopping (although she did put her feet down again) and without falling off her bike and splitting her lip (as happened a few weeks back).
She's gone from being awkward on this big girls' bike and preferring her old black bike, to being completely confident and having lost interest in all her old bikes. Who could blame her? This bike is far more exciting! She feels like a big girl, not a little baby. She can go as fast as she can push herself and feel like she's flying, instead of being tied to the ground on her bulky black bike. Plus it has very cool pink handle bar grips! (Every little girl dreams about having pink handle bar grips.)
I can't begin to explain how proud I was of her in that moment. It didn't even occur to me then that she's passed another milestone. It never occurred to me then that this is just one more step on the road to independence. I was just so proud of her achieving something she'd found impossible only 5 weeks ago.
Of course, now, reflecting on it, it strikes me that the more independent she becomes, the further she will slip from me. That's the way it's meant to be - the purpose of parenting is to make yourself redundant. Yet I know instinctively that I will suffer horribly from empty nest syndrome. While I will cherish the time to do my own thing - read books, garden, walk, whatever - I know that when I get there, I would gladly give it all up to have my baby girl back again.
So instead, I'm going to work really, really hard at enjoying every moment like the one we shared today. Feel free to keep reminding about this. Right now I have the memory of a sieve.
Now, what was I doing a moment ago?
Take Nellie. (Not literally. I will have to bring out the double barrel shotgun if you do.) Only 5 weeks ago she got a pedal-less bicycle (also known as a run bike or balance bike). In part this was a diversion from Nathan's homecoming. In part it was something we'd been planning to get her for ages to help her gross motor development (which is lacking... more on that some other time). 6 weeks ago she was only able to walk a few paces with it before falling over. Today, she amazed me with her improved balance.
"Mommy, look at meeee!' she called. I looked up. Racing away from me, down the road, Nellie was at first pushing her bike with alternate feet, then with both feet together, and then suddenly, she had both feet off the ground and was coasting down the road. She managed to keep her balance for several long seconds before the road came to an end in a neighbour's driveway and she had to turn back. Amazingly, she navigated the turn without stopping (although she did put her feet down again) and without falling off her bike and splitting her lip (as happened a few weeks back).
She's gone from being awkward on this big girls' bike and preferring her old black bike, to being completely confident and having lost interest in all her old bikes. Who could blame her? This bike is far more exciting! She feels like a big girl, not a little baby. She can go as fast as she can push herself and feel like she's flying, instead of being tied to the ground on her bulky black bike. Plus it has very cool pink handle bar grips! (Every little girl dreams about having pink handle bar grips.)
I can't begin to explain how proud I was of her in that moment. It didn't even occur to me then that she's passed another milestone. It never occurred to me then that this is just one more step on the road to independence. I was just so proud of her achieving something she'd found impossible only 5 weeks ago.
Of course, now, reflecting on it, it strikes me that the more independent she becomes, the further she will slip from me. That's the way it's meant to be - the purpose of parenting is to make yourself redundant. Yet I know instinctively that I will suffer horribly from empty nest syndrome. While I will cherish the time to do my own thing - read books, garden, walk, whatever - I know that when I get there, I would gladly give it all up to have my baby girl back again.
So instead, I'm going to work really, really hard at enjoying every moment like the one we shared today. Feel free to keep reminding about this. Right now I have the memory of a sieve.
Now, what was I doing a moment ago?
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