Pink or Blue

 
It was only a matter of time before this post came out. It's inevitable that, once a pregnancy has been announced, the next question is going to be something along the lines of: "are you going to find out what it is?" (as though it could be anything other than a baby) or "what are you hoping for? (again, as though we'd be hoping for anything other than a healthy baby). Find a pregnant woman, and you can bet your bottom dollar someone in her circle is using on her one of the many old wives' tales that become the metre-stick of baby gender prediction against which every pregnancy is measured. I'm no different.

Both Ouma and Yaya are predicting another boy, while a couple close friends have already called it girl. So just for fun, let's look at some of the (crazy) myths and methods, and see how well (or poorly) I'm fairing this time around. Bear in mind, I'm a little short of half way, so the accuracy of these results are even more questionable!

Are you carrying high or low?
I'm not sure. I think low. Apparently shorter folk always look like they're carrying low. I can say that I'm carrying big though. With Zac, at 22 weeks I still looked as though I was just bloated after a big lunch, and only really shot out in the third trimester. With this one, I'm already that size now.
Verdict = Boy

How fast is baby's heart rate?
I should probably know this. I don't.
No verdict

Have you had any skin breakout?
Yes, although not too bad. I've had one or two zits of the kind I've not seen since puberty.
Verdict = Girl (marginally)

How much nausea have you had?
I'm not good with gauging nausea. I get all kinds of motion sickness, so there's a not of nausea I'm used to. Compared to Zac I felt a slightly different queasy, but I still wasn't properly sick. There was always something (usually guava or a chip roll) that made me feel ok, and in two pregnancies I've never thrown up.
Verdict =  Girl?

How are your cravings?
Oh my word, in the first trimester all I wanted was a mini chip roll with lots of salt and vinegar. I'm not a strict banter, but I do usually eat very little carbohydrates including grains, pastas, rice etc (before this pregnancy I had not bought bread for three years) and yet for some reason, as with Zac, as soon as those two lines appeared on the stick, all I wanted was a sarmie!
Verdict = Boy!

How is your hair growth?
Great! This is one of my favourite parts of pregnancy. I had quite a drastic haircut just before finding out about this pregnancy, and already it's grown considerably (and had a trim). I love having longer, fuller, healthier hair.
Verdict = Boy (but to be fair, doesn't this happen to every pregnant woman, regardless of gender?)

What is the shape of your pregnant abdomen?
Round. I have no muscle tone (I never recovered from Zac) so it's all one big bump of belly.
Verdict = Girl

How has your face changed?
Not much really - well, not that anyone has mentioned. Yet.
Verdict = Boy (possibly)

How 'big' are your legs?
Man, this is the first place I notice an enlargement - even if I've not yet put on much additional weight. My bum and thighs are definitely not very flattering right now!
Verdict = Boy

Has baby's dad been gaining weight?
Andel has been banting on and off, and has lost 20kg since the beginning of the year. While he has been indulging in more (too many) treats than usual he's also doing so much additional cycling, I really can't say for sure.
No verdict

Has your chest size changed?
Yes! With Zac my breasts were small pretty much until he was due. This time around I can feel my tops getting tighter!
Verdict = Girl

Which side do you prefer to sleep on?
The left side is more comfortable - but this is probably also psychological as I know that it's healthier to sleep on this side.
Verdict = Boy

Can you tell you're pregnant from behind?
Not really. Yet. I think. You couldn't tell at all with Zac. I think we'll have to see with this one.
Verdict = Boy (perhaps)

Final Score:
Boy 7 - Girl 4

While it's likely we'll be able to see the real verdict at our next check up, chances are we'll probably keep it as our little secret for a while yet...

An Open Letter to our Village

Every child has a village of people helping raise them. These people are family, friends and acquaintances that directly or indirectly influence and shape what the child is exposed to, what the child learns, and how they view the world. This is an open reminder to our larger village.

I don't think you know just how important a role you have. Or perhaps you do. But maybe sometimes you forget. No two parents can raise a child alone. It's too much work over too little time, that requires a physical presence in too many places simultaneously. Without a larger village we would be shattered, on every level, and the quality of the human race would be a stake.

We need you to help our children. We get it wrong so much of the time, they'll need people they can turn to for good advice, for protection (from the world, not from us hopefully), for love, for objectivity and sometimes for sanity. We also need you to help us. We need you to lift our arms when they're tired, to wipe our tears when we cry, to listen when we need a sounding board, and the reward is that you get to share in the most awesome journey of relationship: parenthood.

We live in such a beautiful and ugly world. The good is so often hidden by the big, immediate bad. Our society is filled with prejudices, and without Godly guidance we can so quickly be sucked up into the injustices of it all. For this reason, the way in which you behave and model things for our children is so very important.

It is not okay for you to criticise someone because of their colour, their religion, their gender, or their choices. It is not okay for you to speak nastily and vulgarly to or about others. It is not okay for you to degrade yourselves or those around you. We want our children to understand that people are different, and to love and respect them regardless.

We want - need - you to partner with us. We consider it your responsibility towards us and towards our children to exercise and set an example of tolerance, love, acceptance and respect. We want you to bring hope and change. We want you to teach our children good values. We want you to demonstrate positive attitudes and actions. We want you to sow goodness and security in our lives, and build our children up by your words and actions so that they can be good citizens of the world. This is a such a tricky job, and we cannot do it alone.

I don't think you know just how important a role you have. Or perhaps you do. But maybe sometimes you forget...

Ten Things I'd Do If I Could Just Catch A Break

Perhaps it's the weather: the early morning sunrise and lazy afternoon sunsets. Perhaps it's the time of year: 35 school weeks down, with just 6 more to go. Perhaps it's my age. Whatever it is, I could really do with a break!

Of course we all have those "if money were not an option, I would take a holiday to..." ideas, but the reality is money is an option - much like time, commitments, responsibilities, families and work. So what if you could have a weekend - or even just a day - where none of these mattered. What would you do?

Here are my current top 10 things (in no particular order) I'd do if I could just catch a break:

1. Read
I can count on one hand the number of non-academic books I've read since Zac was born two and a half years ago. Seriously. I had amazing reading plans for my maternity leave, and then when it arrived sleep was so much more valuable! These days if I find a 100 pager that I can quickly read on the toilet or in the bath (preferably in one sitting) that's about the best I can do, so to pick up a crime novel or human interest story would be a real treat!

Since watching the movie I really want to read this!

2. Swim
Despite coming from the health and wellness industry, I do not get around to training. Mostly this is because I don't really enjoy it. The only thing I can get into without too much effort or moaning is swimming. However, I've not always had the time or access to a training pool (because I can't just splash around), so I've not done too much of it lately. Just the thought of a good km or two, gliding through the cool water... I feel relaxed already.

3. Nap
Have I mentioned how tired I am lately? I can be asleep by 21h00, and when I wake up at 06h00 the next morning, I still feel exhausted. I blame the pregnancy. It's ridiculous. Perhaps it's all these vivid dreams I'm having. Oh to wake up and feel human!

4. Bake
I would call myself a bit of an experimental cook, which usually means I often have to try a dish out a few times before I can confidently subject anyone to it. Baking is more my thing. In particular I enjoy decorating what I've baked. The last proper-fondant-icing-covered cake I made was in September 2012, and I miss the creativity of having an idea and trying to recreate it with sugar and colour. I'm a little tired of muffins and brownies right now.

Perhaps Tarrin and I can try this for Christmas...

5. Sing/Play Piano
I have been working on an album (in theory) for the last two years. I have songs I have written but not played or sung for a long time. There's little as therapeutic as tickling the ivories (of course, without the additional treble notes played by 10 littler fingers) and warming up these old vocal chords - and while I've been playing in the church band still, it would be nice to pull out some old material and give it a good go.

6. Watch a Movie
Andel will be shocked to see this, because I'm not really a cinema-going person. Still, it would be nice to do a seemingly mindless activity, and sit and watch a wholesome, feel-good movie (preferably on my sofa, in my pyjamas).

7. Coffee Catch Up
Even better: high tea! I've suddenly got an interest in really girlie things like tea parties, and since that was not something I did (at all) in my former years, I quite enjoy having a heart-to-heart over a pot of freshly brewed tea - with some treats on the side!

How good does this look right now?

8. Date Night
I know this should be a priority regardless of my schedule, and Andel and I try to stick to our 'at least one proper date night per month' agreement. It's tricky though: date night (if we want to be alone, like a date night should be) involves finding a night where we and a babysitter are free at the same time, and since Zac is usually looked after at home, we end up going out. I do wish we'd have more of the spontaneous, stay-at-home date nights where we just hang out together.

9. Hair Pamper
For real. I know massages and mani-pedis are great, but if you know me well, you'll know that my all time favourite is having my hair played with, and I could really do (it's both a need and a want) with some time in the salon chair. I don't go often, but there's something so relaxing about sitting with your feet up - a cup of tea in one hand, a magazine in the other - and having someone else do you hair. My eyes are closing just thinking about it...

10. Play
Although I try to play with Zac a bit every afternoon, the truth is: the general exhaustion of each day can make it difficult to be fully present for a long period of time. If I could catch a break I would love to take my relaxed and revitalised self through an endless play session with Zac where we can laugh, run, dance, build, tickle and play until we drop!

Let the countdown begin!

Confessions of a Second-Time Mom

I've often heard it said "no two pregnancies are the same" and as I find myself pregnant with my second baby, it's never been more glaring to me.

I have a friend whose mother says "the second child is God's child". This statement is based on the trend that, generally, after your first born, every subsequent child has less attention, fewer photos and mementos, and a thinner childhood journal containing sketchier details. And I must admit, since hearing it, I've been a little bit hung up on it.

These are some of the questions flying around in my head right now:  
What do I need to do to make sure this does not happen to my second child? 
When did I start taking belly pics - or posting blog entries - when I was pregnant with Zac? 
Do I seem less excited this time around or is my enthusiasm just tempered by the calm of not being so anxious about everything? 
Why is balancing ethereal early pregnancy with demanding reality so darn hard? 
And how the hell am I going to fit another person into a heart that's already filled to capacity with Zac?

Obviously I'm not the first person to have a second baby. Still I do wonder if I'm the first to feel this way and not have a solution ready. The moms I've seen go before me just seem to have adapted effortlessly into parenting an additional child, and appear to love all their babies differently but still equally and enormously. I, on the other hand, find myself in a season of spending a lot of alone time with Zac (talk about a blessing and a curse), and as a result, when we are apart, missing the synchronicity that is just ours. And since I've not yet felt consistent movement from little Button, I'm still wondering how and when we'll develop our own little exclusive bond, and how that dynamic will change me.

Spare a thought for Andel who is much of a bystander through this - at least until Button is born!

I have so many questions, and so much to learn, and while I'm often overwhelmed by all that we're approaching over the next few months, I'm in awe of the wonder that is parenthood; the gift that each precious child is, and I trust that as others have successfully navigated this road, so will I - eventually.

The WAG, The Rant & The Roadster

If you've read some of my previous posts you'll know I'm usually quite an enthusiastic WAG. Whether it's rugby or cycling I am, more-often-than-not, somewhere in the thick of things (quietly) supporting from the sideline. So I don't know if it's being pregnant or impatient (or a bit of both), but I am quickly losing my zeal  for this.

According to my nearest and dearest, it may be entirely understandable though. After all, cycling training (never mind rugby for now as this only featured one month this year) is a time consuming exercise. In order to prepare for a 100km race, you have to be doing 100km distances (you get what I mean). Add to this that you cycle with other people (which can often mean it takes longer, not shorter to complete), and that the group never sets out before 06h30 or 07h00 - this can be a nearly all-day affair.

This is what 2014 has looked like so far:

• January - Andel was recovering from his shoulder op. This meant no cycling, but tons of rehab, and lots of moaning (on his part).
• February - While he should still have been recovering, Andel was now cycling in preparation for the Cape Town Cycle Tour.
• March - Cape Town Cycle Tour. Need I say more?
• April - Here we experienced a short break - and by short I mean, maybe a week or two because despite being told not to play rugby, Andel went to a few training sessions when he wasn't cycling.
• May - Andel entered the Knysna Rotary Cycle Tour, and prompty started training for it.
• June - By this time Andel had decided he was also going to do the Coronation Double Century race in November. As this is a team race, he joined the eta College team which met more than they cycled at first. Still, Andel was also training for Knysna.
• July - Knysna came and went. It was a hectic race in terribly windy conditions. Still there was no rest after this, as the DC training schedule came out: 18 weeks of training for this 202km race.
• August: DC training.
• September: DC training.
• October: DC training, including West Coast and One Tonner races, with the actual DC and Die Burger races a week apart on 22nd and 30th November.

So to Andel:
As we reach the end of this part of a seemingly perpetual season, I just want to tell you I am so very proud of all the things you have achieved on and with your bike this year - including losing 20kg to improve your cycling. I am still your biggest fan. I just simply cannot wait for a break from the almost 30 weekend mornings this year so far I've spent as a single parent: juggling things at home (usually doing washing and hoping that you've not fallen or been hit by a bus somewhere), attending social engagements alone (because you were running late) and being run ragged by Zac.
Please note that we have a baby on the way four weeks after next year's Cape Town Cycle Tour. I promise to try keep him/her in long enough for you to complete the race, but know that thereafter, as soon as I am able, next year is my training year!
All my love, the #1 WAG x

A Lesson in Obedience and Grace (part 3)

This is the final piece of the pregnancy puzzle. Please read part 1 and part 2 if you've not yet done so (it'll make loads more sense that way).

"Over the following months I wrote letters to family members, to other young couples, to Andel, and even to my boss. In retrospect it is so clear that this lesson was one I was meant to learn during this time, and I could not have moved on literally and figurative until I had, and so when I moved on, I left with peace.

I received two more words in quick succession one day. The one was from a family friend (a passage in Numbers) and the other was from my colleague (a passage in Isaiah) both of which spoke of coming favour, of trusting God to fulfill His promises, and to be expectant of a blessing. I really thought I was on my way, that I had done all that was asked of me, and that things would be falling into place. But as these things sometimes happen: just when one area of life seems to be coming right, another is seemingly falling apart, and deep down I just knew we would have to wait longer because God commands a blessing where there is unity, and at that time we didn't have a consistent amount of that.

As we entered the month of August I was beginning to get antsy. Then one day I got this verse from a family friend: "Until now you have not asked for anything in My name. Ask and you will receive, and your joy will be complete" John 16:24. I also happened to find, at that time, a blog record of another Christian couple's battle with infertility. It's probably important to note here that, at the start of this year I was obsessed with falling pregnant. I had an information supply on pregnancy and fertility that could rival Google, and I would get into an absolute tizz every time I got a negative pregnancy test or a visit from Aunty Flo. As I read this other couple's account, I realised our journey was very different: for one, we already had Zac which meant we didn't (seem to) suffer the same desperation that childless couples experienced. I also realised that in some ways, I was not so much sad as I was hopeful: isn't it funny how sometimes just when you stop looking for something you find it? After getting to a place of acceptance - about having (or not) more children, and about my life in general - when God gave me the promise of another child, I just didn't consider that He would not make good on it eventually. I wondered at times if I was being too casual about the whole thing. Sometimes there's such a fine line between trusting God like a daddy, and taking His work in your life for granted...

Then, amazingly, a few days later I listened to a sermon on Psalm 119:49 "Remember your word to your servant, for you have given me hope" in which it was emphasised that (a) we are to remind God of his promises in boldness, and (b) we are to pray urgently, in faith. Was this for me again? I initially felt like I was 'within my rights" to apply this to my situation. Then I reminded myself that it had nothing to do with rights. Quite simply, God had promised me, and His grace gave me the freedom to both approach him in boldness, and expect some action from Him, in faith.

On the 7th August we found out we are pregnant! Soli Deo Gloria!"


Looking back, there were so many physical (and some less so) signs. There were things that, quite eerily, happened almost identically to when I found out I was pregnant with Zac - and I don't think it was that I didn't see them, I think I was just being cautious. As much as this story paints a picture of big faith, there was most certainly a fair amount of doubt too. And yet, I distinctly remember feeling like God and I had this amazing secret. When I plucked up enough courage to take the test, those two purple lines brought forth a wave of so many emotions. Even after a blood test confirmed it, it still felt surreal, and for the next 6 weeks or so I found myself a little hesitant to accept it, and often paranoid about all the things that may be going wrong (we don't ever learn, do we?).

But here we sit now - 15 weeks in - and I'm beginning to get it:
Every baby is God's baby. As much as we have a great or not so great pregnancy; if we find ourselves strictly following the 'rules' or not; whether we deliver naturally or by c-section; when we breastfeed or don't - it has absolutely nothing to do with us! God's grace creates and sustains our children! And while we do have the immense responsibility of caring for and rearing our babies (both in utero and out), it's that same grace that equips, strengthens and guides us to do so. Each child has a divine purpose and story.

This is the beginning of ours...

A Lesson in Obedience and Grace (part 2)

This is part two in a three part series on the story behind my second (current) pregnancy. If you've not yet caught the first instalment please read it here.

So far in the story, I've been diagnosed with infertility and I've tried the meds without success...

"At the end of May, while chatting to my friend via whatsapp one Saturday evening, she remembered about a photo that I'd sent our Life Group earlier in the week. It was a piece of paper that I'd  found in my jacket pocket that she'd given to me at least a year before with the following reference on it: Mark 11:24 "Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours". She told me how strange it was that she hadn't seen it before then, and that she and her husband had been talking about that very passage, and in particular the verse that follows "and when you stand praying, if you hold anything against anyone, forgive them, so that your father in heave may forgive you your sins" and they had thought it was applicable to me. I accepted and thanked her for the message. I didn't tell her now it resonated with me immediately, for two reasons:

Firstly:
Earlier that month, just before Mother's Day, I had decided to write my mom a letter. My mom and I have never had an exceptionally close relationship, and we just always seemed on opposite ends of everything. By the time I was at university I'd become somewhat cavalier about it, and when I fell pregnant with Zac I made peace with the fact that I would just have a very different relationship with her. Still I wanted to ensure it did not negatively impact her relationship with Zac. My mother was never 'different' with Zac, I just didn't want him to experience any distance from her, courtesy of me - so I wrote her a letter. I acknowledged the status of our relationship, and wanted to let her know it was ok to be simply what it was. I told her how being a mother allowed me to now understand so much of what she had tried to do for us growing up, and I thanked for her role in my life. It turned out to be cathartic and incredibly significant: both relationships (my mother and Zac's, as well as my mother and mine) have since experienced such a drastic and miraculous positive change. I wish I'd done it sooner.

Secondly:
Just after Mother's Day, and in light of my letter to my Mom, my sister had bought me tickets to a women's breakfast and a parenting workshop hosted by Focus on the Family. We went to the women's breakfast - my first - together (because sitting in a room full of spirit-filled warrior women so much better than me was not really something I would voluntarily subject myself to, especially not alone, and I honestly think I was just expecting a feel-good experience). What should have been a 'generic' edification for all the women in the room, turned out to be a direct message from God, to me. As I listened to this speaker, I saw her words form a picture of a woman that upon closer inspection I recognised to be me. She spoke about the pursuit of perfection, wanting to do everything excellently - even heartily as unto the Lord - and in that, leaving no room for grace: No room for grace for others, and even more significantly, no room for grace for me. I realised I have spent the majority of my life doing just that - relentlessly chasing excellence for a sense of self-worth and acceptance, trying to 'please' God, and then feeling so short-changed when others who had done seemingly less than me, or done it in the 'wrong' way, received a reward exactly like mine (or worse - even better than mine!). It became clear to me that I had not yet really understood or accepted the principles of grace: While the law pushes us to achieve, arrive and accomplish, grace talks about humbly serving everyone else. While law disqualifies those who don't 'make it', grace invites everyone in, mess and all. While law brings justice, grace brings healing. Grace eradicates both justice and self-sufficiency. It is not forceful - we must ask for it. It does not make logical sense or demand a set criteria be met. It meets us where you are, without expectation. Grace is not interested in us meeting the standard. Grace is all about us meeting Christ. The penny was dropping, at last.

Two days after our whatsapp conversation my friend gave me another Word. I was starting to get excited about all God was revealing to me, and I wanted to tell Andel the full series of messages from her and from the breakfast. I wanted to forward our entire conversations, but my phone had lost all the messages when it had spontaneously rebooted, so I eagerly asked my friend to resend it. I was not prepared for what she replied. She sent this:

"I was very ready to click copy but God stopped me. It's in your heart. He has strengthened you and is equipping you to do what you are supposed to do, just as He did before I sent the message. He says you know, and you don't need a human reminder, so feel the supernatural reminder and strength as we commit your heart and desires to Jesus and as all your warrior sisters hold your arms high in the supernatural."

A little later she contacted me again and went on to explain that I needed to 'make right' with whomever has wronged me so that my womb and my children could be free of resentment, bitterness and anger. After the letter I had written to my Mom, this was simply another confirmation. But I knew it wasn't finished, and I started thinking about more people I needed to do a similar thing with.

I was literally sending Andel an email about it when I got one more message:

"I feel God saying that this is your journey for now, you are to walk this part alone with Him, He wants to show you great and unsearchable things! Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him and He will make your paths straight (Prov 3:5-6)."

I was blown away. I so much wanted to share what was going on, and yet, God was wanting this time exclusively with and for me. In her first word she had originally said "...you've been hurt and He sees that and loves you through that...He has delayed the second born for a special time. He says He will reveal why soon, but you have to trust Him, with all of your heart, and not lean on your own understanding or logic!..." It was the same verse, and now it kind of made sense. So I said nothing, and instead I started documenting what was happening in order to explain it to Andel (and others) later."

A Lesson in Obedience and Grace (part 1)

I think, for me, it always feels a little incomplete to announce a pregnancy without giving a bit of a story (this happened, and then I noticed this, and then suddenly I thought this...) and it's especially true in this case. This has been in the works for a while, and to give you the abridged version wouldn't really do the story justice. So I'm going to share the entire journey with you in a series of posts copied straight from the journal I kept. If that's not really your thing, please feel free to just browse past it. But for those who do read it, I trust that it'll spread hope and encourage faith, and that you'll be touched.


" Each year Andel and I create a wishlist of faith; things that we're trusting God for in the coming year. We love being able to tick off the list as God provides, and then look back and reflect on His timing and awesomeness. This year's list has five things: a house, a promotion/increase for both of us in our jobs, another baby and a family holiday...

Most of you know/know of Zac: the beautiful, strong-willed child that never seems to sit still, and loves playing the drums. There's little I love more than being a mother to him, so it's quite an emotional reflection for me to look back on my teens when everyone told me I wasn't the maternal type. People would comment about how I appeared the type of mother that would send my kids to boarding school - or have a nanny look after them for me. Truthfully it was a judgement that bothered and saddened me, and for years made me believe that I would never marry and have children. Then in my early twenties God made it very clear that I would have children, and I suddenly wanted four: boy, boy, girl, boy (don't ask me why it's like that - there's no logical explanation) before the age of 35. So when I fell pregnant with Zac at 28, two years after Andel and I got married, I figured children 2, 3 and 4 would follow relatively soon thereafter.

Then in March this year, after months of trying to fall pregnant, getting tested, monitoring cycles and having doctors check my system, I was officially diagnosed with idiopathic (unexplained) infertility. As a healthy, 30 year old woman, there was no physiological reason that I should not have been able to fall pregnant, and yet my progesterone levels were less than 10% of what a normal ovulating woman's levels should be. Quite simply: all evidence was pointing to the fact that I was not producing eggs to be fertilised. I'm not sure why we took it so lightly (perhaps we were in denial) but we told only three people: a colleague, my sister and another friend in our life group. The intention was that they would be able to pray for and with me. We chose not to tell our families.

I was advised to go on some medication to aid fertility. Despite the doctor's diagnosis I still believed that God would be able to work a miracle, and after prayer and discussion we decided to try the meds. We were comfortable with the fact that should something happen, it would be God, not the meds. But nothing happened. Around ovulation time that month I was in excruciating pain. We asked those three friends to pray with us again. It was then that my friend contacted me. She said she was so sorry, that she hadn't been obedient before, and that she had to be now. She told me that God had revealed to her weeks before that I should not take the meds. She explained that she had asked for another sign, and when God didn't give her one, she had left it. When I told her of my pain though, she was immediately reminded about it, and was told once again to tell me to stop the meds. And along with that instruction God gave her a whole message for me: it included how much He loved me and how well He knew me, and that my personality (being a scientist and all) would force me to try the meds before agreeing to go off them; how I had been hurt before, and how our second born was being delayed for a purpose. (I don't have the exact message because I lost it when my phone rebooted soon after). I very briefly (and vaguely) shared the message with Andel and stopped the meds that day - amazingly without any questions from the doctor. I felt God had graciously allowed all the medical professionals to step back, without me having to explain. Truthfully, when I think back to taking my first dose, I clearly remember hesitating just a little... "

And Now You Know

They say a picture is worth a thousand words. So without any further ado...

(keep an eye on the blog for the full story)

Applying for a UK Visa?

 
I've decided to write this post mostly because we're in the middle of applying for visas, and boy there have been times I've wished someone else prepared this post for me!

As a South African, getting to into the UK (or pretty much any other part of the world, for that matter) is a process paved with red tape. There is simply no easy or cheap way around it so it's best one be prepared beforehand!


The Prerequisites
Before we even start, let me just remind you of the new law requirements when travelling to and from South Africa with children. In addition to a passport, you need to have an unabridged birth certificate for each child, and if the child is not travelling with one or both parents, an affidavit from the absent parent/s giving permission for the child to travel with you (yes, even if you are one of the parents).

It's also useful to know that as soon as a child is 2 years old (be they a big two, small two, nursing two - whatever) they need to be booked their own seat on all flights (yes, even if they're going to sit on your lap the entire journey). In most cases these seats are approximately 75% of the full price, however, in some instances, especially local flights operated by budget airlines, you may have to fork out the full fee.


The Process
Currently there is only one service provider for UK visa application processing, so you have to go to https://visa4uk.fco.gov.uk/ and start off registering with them (this doesn't last forever, but is pretty handy if you plan to apply for visas multiple times over a few years). Once you've done this, you can log in and start the application process.

You are able to apply for yourself as well as others - in separate applications. Make certain you look at the types of visas available, and ensure that you are applying for the correct one (there is some assistance provided on the website). Then systematically fill in each section of the application carefully as it can get tricky (e.g. some of the finance questions are asked to be answered in GBP, not R) especially when you're tired and/or on your third application! The page tab turns green when all the necessary fields have been completed, and you are able to save and quit at any time during the application.

Once you have checked (and double checked) all sections, you can submit your application online (once you do this you will no longer be able to edit) and follow the necessary links to make payment. When you've submitted and paid, you'll be able to make an appointment at which you'll have all your biometric data recorded, and you'll submit your passport, photos, application and all the supporting evidence in person.
NB! As of 1 July, all children (previously it was just 5 and older) are required to attend this appointment in person, and be submit to biometric data submission. Brace yourself! This is quite a story, and your child needs to be awake and cooperative. Good luck.

Following this appointment, you have to register with the Teleperformance Centre (http://www.ge2za.tpcontact.co.uk/cap-town) where you can track your application. You may or may not be called for an interview at the British High Commission. In Pretoria. (I only know of one person who was unfortunate enough to have to do this). If not, you usually get a response in 3 - 4 weeks (they say to allow for 6 - 8), and collect your passport again.


The Paperwork
While the success of an application is never really guaranteed, the following supporting documents, some mandatory, others optional, are ones I would recommend - they've certainly helped us:

From the applicant:

• Identity documents - including unabridged birth certificate for minors
• Marriage certificate
• Proof of residence - home ownership or lease agreement
• Proof of employment and salary
• Proof of school enrolment
• Bank statements - 3 months
• Any savings / additional income sources
• Flight booking /provisional itinerary
• Accommodation arrangement

From friends or relatives in the UK:

• Letter of invitation
• Identity documents
• Visa or permanent residency permits - or bio date page of passport
• Proof of residence - home ownership or lease agreement
• Proof of employment
• Proof of finances

From home:

• Letters indicating your involvement or presence required at any up coming event/occasion for which you'd have to return to SA

Sending best wishes with your applications, and hoping for a favourable result for us all!

Note!

 Unabridged birth certificates are applied for through the Department of Home Affairs at a cost of R79, and are meant to be processed in 8 weeks, however, at the time of publishing this post, the Minister of Home Affairs announced that the introduction of the new children travel laws would be delayed from 1 October 2014 to 1 June 2015 due to some objections and a rumoured backlog of applications not yet processed.

Hip Hip Hooray, We Are Going To The UK!

Last week, on my 100th happy day, I bought three return tickets to Dublin (talk about saving the best for last!).

We're leaving on a jet plane...

We were last in the UK three years ago. It was a (very) belated honeymoon, a much needed break, and a chance to introduce Andel to my family there. We enjoyed the hustle and bustle of London (including being in the vicinity of the Royal Wedding), being able to relax in the Norfolk countryside, and a whirlwind two days in Ireland.

Just six months after that trip, our besties moved to Ireland. Since then we have each had one child, and seen each other every year - but we have never been to visit them (that's a bit embarrassing, actually). So it seems only fair that, this time, we should make the trip - and what better way to introduce Zac to the family, and enjoy the lights and white (hopefully) of Christmas?

I wouldn't mind us a little bit of this, thank you

The preparations thus far have not been in any way this simple though: we've had leave issues, flight drama - all kinds of fun stuff! But it's amazing how God works things out for our best. After searching for months (I'm not even kidding) for good flights, we miraculously found ones 30% cheaper than the average quote we were getting. Unfortunately it was a Friday, and while trying to book online, after putting in all our details, picking seats etc. there was a recurring technical error - and a call centre that was closed for the weekend. I retried every few hours for three days, so you can imagine my fury when I finally got hold of someone the Monday, only for them to give me a long sob story and an apology, before swiftly telling me the next best tickets were R3000 more!

The next day I found another really good price, and tried booking, only to have some agent tell me the price advertised was incorrect (forgive me, but in the service industries where I've worked, when this happens, it's not the customer's problem). Anyway, after two days' worth of fighting with them, I eventually found something else - not as cheap, not as quick, not as convenient, but manageable, I guess.
I wish I could explain what it was that made me stall on the payment. I really don't know. I kept telling myself I'd wait to hear from one more agent, check another site one last time. It was during this wait that someone advised me to call the airline about the connecting flights - and on this phone call (for the first time!) I was made aware that more than one transit stop in Europe requires a Shengen visa. Thank God I had not paid - I couldn't imagine anything worse than having to pay for an additional visa, and then not even leave the plane/airport to use it!

After all this drama, I decided to lay off the search for a day or two. And it just so happened that when I picked it back up, we got something that worked out ok. We're a little bummed that we have to come home earlier than originally planned, but we've managed to gain a day or two at the start, and at the end of the day, we just really want to see the people we love and miss so much!

So, on the 3rd December we'll be setting off on a little adventure, and I can't wait to share all about it!

Less than 13 weeks to go!

100 Happy Days: The Reflection

Way back in May (gosh, I hadn't realised it'd been quite so long) I posted about the start of my 100 Happy Days challenge. I posed the question, "Can you really be happy for 100 days in a row" because statistically most people can't, and then embarked on this journey with Tarrin.

So as it turns out, it's a lot easier than I thought it would be. Well, initially, it was a bit weird. I think I've become so accustomed to have something big happen in order to be happy, that it was unusual to find happiness in the ordinary - like having smoothies after dinner, doing online shopping, or just enjoying a cup of tea.

Of course I also had my fair share of 'out-of-the-ordinary' happiness - oysters at the Knysna festival, a special girls' out night right after Ash and PJ left for the USA, my World Cup winning team, and getting an ipad from school. We also celebrated birthdays, new arrivals and special milestones - some big and elaborate; others private and intimate.

I'm actually finding it rather weird to not end every day with a Facebook post hastagged #100happydays, but I am so much more aware of these things that make me happy - and so grateful to have them in my life!

To see all 100 pics, go to https://www.facebook.com/robyn.h.klaasen/media_set?set=a.10152397990110926.1073741829.545050925&type=3

Faith Walking

2 Corinthians 5:6-7 says "So we are always of good courage. We know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord for we walk by faith, not by sight". Like, what does that even mean, anyway?

No matter how many different versions or commentaries I read, everyone pretty much agrees that it involves seeing things in eternal consequences; to believe and obey the Word, even though it may conflict with man's ideas; to trust God in every circumstance, regardless of how things seem, or what people say.

I happen to be in a season of my life where I am required to walk by faith, and man, I am finding it tough! To me it seems sometimes it's easier to apply this eternal perspective to the bigger things - I believe in God, I believe in His salvation, I believe that all who give their lives to Him will go to heaven when they die etc. The 'less spiritual', more everyday things I find a little more difficult - like when people give up their jobs to look after their kids, not knowing where their finances are coming from; when someone stands quiet, taking it on the chin, when they could be absolutely, justifiably defending themselves; when someone chooses to hope for a miracle when the doctor says there's nothing more they can do...

Even though I may know the scripture and understand the interpretation, how I long for a more childlike faith. I think as we get older we often complicate things by trying to logically plan for, or work things out. God wants us to trust Him. He is our father - what parent doesn't  want that from their kids?
It's like when Zac wakes in the middle of hte night and quietly navigates his way to my bed in the dark: even though he can't see anything (to be honest, I actually think his eyes are still closed) he gets to me without crying, falling or getting lost because he knows the way, he believes that I am there, and he is convinced that I'll never leave him or let him get hurt. How much more shouldn't we believe that of God?

I don't have a quick fix soluation. I've still not found a way to completely stop my doubt, calm my anxiety, or quiet the voices of my fear. And yet I know - because my life already bears testimony to this - that God is trustworthy and faithful to fulfill his promises, and that as we place one foot in front of the other, our hand holding tightly onto His, we will not be disappointed.

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

They say change is as good as a holiday, and since I figured I could actually do with a little bit of both, I decided to go with the more affordable option of getting a haircut.

Any of you who know me well will know about my deep dislike of hairdressers. Unfortunately a history of cutting off too much, not getting the style quite right, commenting on my inability to blow dry, or worse: on my anxiety induced bald patches, leaves me feeling more than just a little apprehensive when heading for the chop. Add to this the fact that I actually like having long, wavy tresses, and you should be able to envision in the internal conflict that must have occurred before I took the plunge. Or not?

Funnily enough this decision was made in 2 days for 2 main reasons: I needed a change of scenery (what better to go with a new job than a new hairstyle), and my hair was in bad shape (you can thank years of ponytails for that). So I searched on the 'net for styles that would supposedly compliment my face shape and hair type, and just went with that I liked best.

So on Saturday, while at my in-laws, I got my sister in law to cut my hair. Not even Zac's playing with my long, loose locks all the drive to Elgin could change my mind, and I went from hip-length hair to shoulder-length hair in a few minutes on her chair. And I did actually feel like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. It didn’t look exactly like the picture I had in my mind (then again I am sporting the blow-dried version which I’m likely not to see until I make it back to a salon again), but I like it.

I didn't take a before pic - but you can tell it's a lot of hair!

And this is the end result

Thankfully I can still tie it up. Just about.

My new do takes a little bit of getting used to, and I can tell my boys are sitting on the fence a little. But it really has been a refreshing change. And at the end of the day, it’s just hair, right – it’ll grow back!

The Waiting Game

Patience is not my strong point. I'm the kind of person who when I want or need something done, expect it done now - or at the very least, sooner rather than later (now is better though). So you can imagine my frustration by the fact that we have been house-hunting for over three years, and are still no closer to a forever home.

When we first started searching the property pages, it was because it was the done thing. We were approaching out first wedding anniversary, and had been asked to move out of the flat we were renting because it had been sold to someone who wanted to live in. We thought instead of renting again we would try to buy. It was one of those things I was supposed to have ticked off my list by the age of 28. We didn't find anything right then, and seeing as though we had to move somewhere, we rented a new place. Our current place.

The following year we started looking again. We had just found out I was pregnant with Zac, and we wanted to give our child roots (as though roots can only be established by a bond - the mortgage type). I wanted a nursery to decorate without having to consider what the landlord would think or whether or not it could be undone later, and a garden we could invest in, plant herbs in, and set play things up in.

By the time Zac was due we were no closer to finding a new home. By that point I was secretly grateful. The thought of having to move house at 30-anything weeks' pregnant was not appealing, and I thought we'd get something soon enough. Well, it took a little longer than that. Despite our best efforts to save on the stair gate by buying a house (I know, it makes no sense), by Zac's first birthday he was expertly navigating the stairs, up and down without a single incident. Still in our current place.

Fast forward to the present and we are still looking for that forever home with the nursery (ok, now it's a big boy room - but it's the same principle), the garden, and some extra things (like room for Andel's cycling paraphernalia currently sharing a room with Zac).

We've sent countless house enquiries, and honestly have probably viewed close to 100 houses. I didn't keep count. I genuinely didn't think it would take this long. Truthfully, I'm tired of this: of looking, and offering, and waiting, and starting all over again. Sometimes I really feel like we're never going to move out (up?) into a place that we can call ours. It's hard to remain positive.

But I have to remember that I have a Father who knows my name and my needs. Each time we think we've lost out on the perfect house for us - be it because of price, other offers, or dodgy agents - a couple houses later God shows us something better. And when I'm thinking clearly, I know that I have already experienced first hand that you don't need a bond to grow roots, or a house to build a home.

When I next complain about the latest house-related disappointment, please feel free to remind me of that...

The Case for the Working Mother

Earlier in the month, I found myself at home with Zac for a mammoth 11-day stint (ordinarily this would not be the case, but Bonny Babies was closed the week after we were away, and I happened to be at home before starting a new job). I was just.about.coping.

To give you some perspective, let me explain something: I'm a working mom - the full time kind. I'm pretty much the polar opposite of the domestic goddess type mom. I returned to work the day we celebrated Zac's 13 week existence. I could blame it on the unpaid leave, or the start of the new academic term, but the truth is - even if there were none of that - I would have gone back to work eventually - probably sooner rather than later (you can read more about it here).

Phew, that felt good to say out loud! You see, as if general motherhood pressure wasn't enough, there's a special, additional kind reserved for the working varietal. For some reason, it's assumed that, were all things considered equal, every mother would want to be home with her children. And for some of us that's just not the case.

Please don't get me wrong (and I'm sure I speak for all the working mothers here): it's not that we don't like being with our children. On the contrary: we love them as much as the stay-at-home mothers do. Some of us (and here I speak for myself) are just better mothers when we are sane. And sometimes sanity comes at the expense of being employed. So here are my three favourite not-so-serious arguments for me as a working mother:

1. The Contribution to Industry
Not only are working mothers a vital part of the industries in which they work, let's be honest, without them, there would also be no childcare industry, which, based on the school fees I'm paying, is a booming one! I'm very fortunate to have my mom run a day care so I have the added peace of mind that while Zac is learning about himself and his surroundings, he's in the best possible care available. The best.

2. The Contribution to Society
They won't say so to your face (because no one wants to cheese off a new mother) but the world is grateful for opportunities to engage in some adult only environments where you don't have to worry about uncovered plugs, stinky nappy changes, and suitable places to breastfeed. Really, I think mothers are too. As much as I love the label of being 'Zac's mom', it is nice for someone to notice me in the room too. And let's be honest: more often than not, this is where we educate the rest of the world on child related things (like plug covers, nappy changes, and suitable places to breastfeed).

3. The Contribution to Procreation
I'm beginning to really believe that were all mothers at home with their kids every day, especially those of us who are not naturally wired to work that way, the future of the human race would be at risk. Some of us really need that break so that we can be fully present and energetic when we have that sweet reunion with our little ones. Ask any working mom when they dream of having more children - it's while they're at work, oblivious to the havoc their children are causing at daycare!

Seriously though: the key is balance. I never said being a working mom is easy, and unfortunately right now with increasing costs and all, many of us don't have the option not to work, but whatever your situation - you don't have to feel bad about it! Somehow the moment you see those two lines on the pee-stick, there is this miraculous, amazing increased capacity to love and care and provide for your children, and if you can do that, I reckon you're doing a fantastic job!

Catch Up

Things have been a little busy these past two weeks, and I've not had very much time to blog. I should have known when I posted so many posts in the week before, that there would be a bit of a drought thereafter. Anyway, I'm back up and running, and will fill you in the the latest happenings.

So July has come and gone in a whirlwind of activity and general busyness! As you all know, I finished up at eta College at the end of June, and was very fortunate to be able to start my new job with two weeks' holiday! During that time we braved the cold in Knysna to enjoy the Oyster Festival and, in particular, support Papu, Andel, Brendan and Bernil in the cycle race.

The week that followed was pretty daunting. I was a stay at home mom to a very energetic, adventure-seeking two year old. It was a wonderful time of bonding for Zac and me. I don't think I realised how much about what he can do I didn't really know, and it was awesome to find out first hand. The mornings spent lazing in bed, and our afternoons out were a real treat. I know that were I not forced to actually relax, I would not have. Of course though, I got absolutely nothing done. Thankfully there is a season for everything, and when Zac went back to daycare, my productivity returned.

Sunshine and snuggles

I spent most of last week preparing for my move to the International School of Cape Town where I now work as the Head of Sport and teach PE. I met all the staff and renewed my First Aid qualification - all before the term even started. Since the students arrived on Monday it's been full steam ahead, and although I have tons to catch up on and figure out (admin and inventory are not my friends right now), I've had a good week.

The very picturesque ISCT

Very sadly, last week I lost a good school friend of mine. It was sudden, unexpected and unexplained, and I really struggled to accept and deal with it. His memorial this week was beautiful though: simple, honest and full of love, and graciously, God has given me (and the other friends and family) some peace. I am so acutely aware of how distanced we have become as human beings - we'd rather text/mail than speak face to face; send virtual hugs instead of making human contact. This friend leaves behind loved ones, including a young son (younger than Zac). It just reminds me to be grateful for, and make the most of, who and what I have right now.

Carl, I'll forever remember you just like this

Thankfully today is Friday. After a week of 06h15 wake up calls (forgive me, this is new. I was so spoilt at my previous job where I only woke an hour later), 07h30 meetings, and three nights where Zac woke between 03h30 and 04h40 exclaiming "Mama, I no more shleep" (we were not impressed), I am really looking forward to a weekend of R&R (punctuated by laundry and other motherly things, I'm sure). And hopefully next week, I have myself more together, and can blog more consistently. Hopefully.

ps. And, to my surprise just now when I went to get my weekly dose of blog reading, look what I found...
Have a good weekend all!

It's Just a Game - or is it?

Despite Bafana Bafana not qualifying for this year's Soccer World Cup, South Africa has still enjoyed a good dose of World Cup Fever. In fact, most individuals I know are in some type of World Cup competition hosted by their work places and/or set up online.

In my immediate circle we have two scenarios: Competition A is an 'adopt-a-nation' approach where at the start of the competition people randomly draw one of the 32 participating countries, and pray they stay in the competition long enough to earn one of the top three prizes. In competition B everyone's neutral, but each match has to be predicted with points awarded for the correct winner, correct points margin, and correct score, and at the end of the competition, the person on the top of the leader board wins the pot.

Competition A has been going well, without major input - I mean, your team either wins or they don't, you don't really have anything to do with it, you know. Competition B is something altogether different though, and lately, our entire family has got in on competition B, and boy has it brought a few things to light. For instance: democracy is not necessarily the most scientific way to decide a prediction; sometimes the least likely score is the right one; and, even the least ardent soccer fan can throw a hell of a tantrum when their team loses (or worse - you used the wrong prediction, thanks to that democracy rule).

However the most horrific is my latest self discovery: It appears I am seriously competitive. I mean over the top competitive, in the worst way - the silent, plotting, statistical way. And if this weren't a bad enough conclusion, I also have some very big control and people pleasing issues. For real!

I can understand how people get addicted to this: fuelling man's inexplicable to need to be in control, to determine his own destiny, and feel like he's made it. I have found myself mulling over soccer statistics and checking out betting sites, all in an attempt to outwit the other players in the pool to get 'us' to the top of the leader board. And when it hasn't gone right (like forgetting three fixtures along the way, making a miscalculation in the points, or allowing empathy or democracy to determine a prediction), I've taken it like a personal train smash! I can genuinely recognise some disappointment (in myself, and on the behalf of others), frustration, anxiety and perfectionism. And all for a game?!

Fortunately, when the final whistle blows tonight, it will all be over, and no one (in my circle) would have won or lost anything significant. I bet by next month no one will even remember all this. But as this can be a parallel to life, let's just say I'm happy to have seen these 'character warnings' in this fantasy setting - I have a few years to iron them out before the next one *wink wink*!

For the record: my money's on Germany tonight!

Home with Mom - Green Point Park

If it weren't for the fact that I've seen pictures and aftermath of the damage done by the storm that passed through Cape Town last weekend, I would believe it. The weather this week has been perfect: lots of sunshine, no wind, and reasonable temperatures - and seeing as though there is another cold front forecast for this weekend, Dom and I decided to take the boys to Green Point Urban Park today.

The beautiful Cape Town winter weather - my favourite!

Zac, aunty Dom and Matthew

We know the way to the park

The way these two were shrieking you'd swear
they'd never been on a swing before!

Here they'd forgotten they can actually WALK across!

Peak-a-boo, I see you

Playing hide-and-seek

 

Happy boy xx

  

It was so funny watching them trying to navigate
these ropes with their little feet!

Zac's favourite part: the slide down

Daredevil Matt - the only way he comes down!

Given these boys are 18 and 24 months old, realistically an outing can only last two or three hours before someone needs a nappy change, meal/bottle or a nap! So after a good time in the park we stopped off to get some groceries and some lunch, and then head off home - just in time for that nap!