Pause

I have not written a blog post in ages. A whole year, actually. Not that I haven’t want to. Actually, I think about writing at least twice a week. I miss the release that is brings when I am able to get my thoughts and ideas onto paper (screen), and process them properly. I also miss documenting our lives’ events in real time. I like to believe that one day the kids will find it cool (or at least of some sentimental value) to look back on. 

So, in an attempt to be more disciplined about doing this - and enjoy it as I do, here is an update:

I’m thinking about… my boy, Zac. It’s been 44 days since I last saw him (who’s counting though), and I still have 12 to go. I don’t know if it’s because we have Harper now, or if it’s because he’s turning 11 on Sunday and we’ll be apart for aa second birthday in a row (probably both), but I miss him something fierce. No one thinks they’ll only have 9 uninterrupted years with their child. It feels like it was yesterday that I was home on maternity leave with him…

I’m watching… Hudson & Rex. It’s a B-grade Canadian procedural drama focused on a police detective (Charlie Hudson) and his canine partner (Rex). Sam was the first to see an episode, and he loved it so much, we went back to Season 1 (of 5), and started watching it all together. It’s wholesome viewing and quality time; I think the only downside is that we are expecting Badger to behave like Rex. Not quite a fair comparison, I realise. 

I’m listening to… Coldplay. We've been following their Music of the Sphere's World Tour (we even got access to listen to one of the Paris concerts live - it was amazing), and pining over the fact that they have no South Africa dates. The kids really enjoy Coldplay too, and we have promised them that one day we will all go to the concert together (Gosh, I hope they do return here soon, or this is going to be a very expensive exercise). Until then we party in the lounge, in the car - pretty much anywhere we can sing and dance along. 

I’m loving… having Harper. It sounds weird, but finding out about her, and accepting what my life was going to become was a difficult adjustment. But since then, I have learnt to look at it differently. I am so acutely aware of all that I’m being given the opportunity to do again, this time knowing that I won’t get another chance, and intentionally being present to enjoy it all. I wish I didn’t have to return at work for a little while longer. 

I’m busy… raising four kids. Most of the time it's more like three. Some of the time it's five. Let me tell you some things I know so far:

1. The change in chaos from three kids to four is negligible.

2. Based on my personality and tolerance for drama, boys are easier (at least they have been so far).

3. You truly experience the quality of sibling relationships in adulthood when you are raising your own children.

4. There's actually very little that children really need - once you figure this out, children aren't nearly as expensive as they seem. 

5. You never regret the children you had; only those you didn't. 

I’m going to… work again soon. Here's what I've learnt from my four kids. No matter how much maternity leave you get, it's never enough. I know I'm not build to be a stay at home mom, but still. Also, I'm turning 40 and I never expected to still be teaching (every day, outside in the elements) at this stage of my life. I even considered a career change (well, only as far as wanting a career change, and trying to thing of careers I may be good at). 

I’m battling with… my weight, my self esteem, and my quality of life. They go together, after all. I need to be transparent here, because I know I’ll read this back on this some time from now, and hopefully I will have moved on from this space. I was a little too carefree in my pregnancy. Call it emotional eating, I don’t know. I was pleasantly surprised though that I managed to hold it together, and I felt in decent shape during and after Harper’s birth. I was after that, that the wheels came off, and I now sit weighing more than I had at the height of my pregnancy, with over 10kg to lose. It’s devastating for me. I want to be active and healthy, and fit into my clothes, and I’m just none of the above. As a result, I don’t want to go anywhere or see anyone. How do you get out of this kind of worry - eat - hide cycle? And how to I model body positivity for my girls? I won’t lie, there are times I’m hoping for a stomach bug…

I’m resolving to… set boundaries. Those who know me well know that I pride myself in successfully fitting large things into little things. Whether it’s packing a suitcase, or cramming in work; I make it happen. But I can’t anymore. I don’t want to anymore. I want to travel light so I can enjoy all the places I go and people I’m interacting with. It’s one thing to want, and another to do, so let’s see how this goes. I’m putting it out here so I can be held accountable. Wish me luck!

Well, that seems about as good a return to posting as any.

Ps. There are a couple of short posts I wrote on my phone / in a note that I’ll post when they were written.

An Almost Perfect 10

Ten years ago today, I became a mother. It sounds like a cause for celebration - I mean: it is, but it also isn’t. Not today, anyway. After all, how do you really celebrate something without the guest of honour actually being present?

When Zac was born, I wasn’t a young mom - I was 29 that year, and probably thought I knew a bit. I didn’t. I had no clue about all that life had in store for us. And perhaps that wasn’t the worst thing, because I’m not sure I would have volunteered to undertake this particular journey had I known all the ways in which it would stretch, scare, and surprise me. For sure, I never pictured a life where my son, by his 10th birthday, had already left the nest.

Like many others have mentioned to me lately, I often need reminding that Zac is only 10. Sure, he has grown and matured significantly since the start of the year, but then there have also been signs right from the start. He’s always been a little more independent, a little wiser than his years, holding us a little further away, with a slightly looser grip. And it’s always been a double-edged sword for us: such admiration for the young man developing before us, and such reluctance to have to let him go so soon.

It has been an incredible first decade, and while I don’t know what to expect of the next, here’s what I do know: Zac James, you are my boy. No matter where in the world you ever are, you are always with me: pumping through my veins, occupying my thoughts, whispered in my prayers, swelling up my heart. I thank God for your life, and His calling on it, and pray that He will continue to guide, equip and protect you as His plans for you unfold. Continue to trust Him; He won’t let you go.

Happy birthday Cooks. I am so proud of you, and I can’t wait for you to come home so that I can hold you close and take you all in. I love you!

Sam: SE7EN

 Turning seven is a kind of coming of age. In most educational systems, it’s at this point that children enter “big school” for the first time. It’s also a developmental stage in which the first of two major growth spurt usually occurs. I guess it should be unsurprising then that there is a lot of growth that is visible, and Sam, with you, it is no different. Over the past three months, I have become increasingly aware of this “big boy” that I have. 

Despite you being on holiday, this week has been chaotic for the rest of us, and in the busyness of what we have had to do, you’d be forgiven for wanting more of the attention. But that’s not your way. Instead, in typical Sam fashion, you planned your birthday wish list around everything else so that everyone could be involved. You postponed your class celebration from the last day of last term to the first day of next term so that no one missed out, you delayed your birthday dinner by a day so that you could have your brother present, and you invited your friends around to play soccer so that you could spend time with them without the pressure of a party.  All these things simply epitomise who you are: empathetic, intentional, kind, generous, funny, and full of love. 

I listen to your conversations, your reasoning, your sense of humour, and I love the big boy you are growing into. You surprise us as you reveal more of who you are - one tantalising taste at a time. Every time I think you couldn’t get any better, you show me how you can. My heart melts into a mess at the mere mention of you, and your smile seizes me. 

You have the heart of Jesus, my boy. And while because of it you are bound to hurt with and for people, you will also love the world a way that will change it. Hold fast to Him as He guides you. Be brave. Stay strong. We love you more than our hearts can handle. Happy birthday!

So, So Loved

 As we get closer to being reunited with Zac - regardless of the uncertainty and inevitable goodbye it brings with it - I am struck by a a deep sense of love. It's funny how, when you miss someone, you remember only the good things about them. Right now, Zac is perfect in my mind's eye, and my heart is full, waiting to burst out all over him. But it's not just that.

As I write, a colleague of mine from Cape Town finds herself in the The Berg with her family. She'll be going to the DBCS concerts today, then taking Zac to dinner, and afterwards she'll be bringing back Zac's big cricket bag that can't fit into his luggage allocation, so that he can play cricket at home next week. My colleague has probably not spent more than 10 minutes in conversation with Zac - in total - but she has decided to love on him, for us, today.

Incredibly, this is no an isolated incident. The last 10 weeks have been full of similar acts of kindness. Zac's dorm leader baked him brownies when he found out we wouldn't be attending the parents' weekend. And when we weren't at the tie ceremony, the Head Master had Zac celebrate with him and his family. Other boys' parents have sent Zac tuck, given him warm comfort hugs, let him call and send pics and videos from their phones, invited him to picnics and parties, and basically adopted him into their families. 

Zac may be far from home, but he is not far from Love. And by virtue of that fact, neither are we.

He is jealous for me

Love's like a hurricane, and I am a tree

Bending beneath the weight of His wind and mercy

When all of a sudden

I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory

And I realize just how beautiful you are and how great your affections are for me

And oh

How He loves us oh

Oh how He loves us

how He loves us oh

We are His portion and He is our prize

Drawn to redemption by the grace in his eyes

If grace is an ocean, we're all sinking (ha ha)

So heaven meets earth like a unforeseen kiss

And my heart turns violently inside of my chest

I don't have time to maintain these regrets

when I think about the way

Yeah He loves us

Oh how He loves us

Oh how He loves

Let it go deep go deep go deep

Oh, How He Loves Us - Jesus Culture

The Seven Week Itch

 I’m sure you’re all familiar with the 'Seven Year Itch' (the belief that after 7 years, the level of happiness in a marriage or longterm relationship begins to decline). Well, let me introduce you to the 'Seven Week Itch'. It’s probably coincidental, still, I’m going with it because, suddenly, the honeymoon phase of being a boarder’s parent is coming to an end, and I really miss Zac.

It’s not that I wasn’t missing him before. I guess it just hadn’t been this long. Perhaps there is a length of time during which dealing with longing is manageable. It would certainly make sense then, that the school grants the boys midterm long weekend each term. That was last weekend, and most of the boys were reunited with their families. Zac did not come home, but he did enjoy a weekend in Gauteng with my mom who met him there, and by all accounts, his time with his Yaya was a treat from start to finish. 

Also, there has been nothing but good news coming from the ‘Berg. Good reports are coming from Zac’s teachers and house parents. He was even Boarder of the Month in his first month. Good reports have been coming from Zac too. He is loving class and life on campus, and he has been eagerly doing one test after the other in his bid to make concert choir status. He genuinely never sounds homesick, and doesn’t even call every day. In fact, I have been mentally preparing for the fact that when he comes home for the holidays, the young man we welcome back may be a far cry from the boy who left. 

Then yesterday two significant things happened: I went grocery shopping, and Zac called.

Both of these things, in insolation, would be irrelevant, however, their collusion impacted me. Usually, I do grocery shopping with Zac - just him and me. He's very helpful and it's a very efficient process. This was not the first time I’ve gone without him since he left, but this grocery trip was particularly painful. Andel, who is juggling multiple crises at work, was on the phone all the time, and the kids, who needed to be caged in an additional trolley, were not being cooperative at all. I almost left my both trolleys in the shop to go home. And then Zac called - on a Saturday afternoon, while we were in the shop - frantically asking us about the conflict in the Ukraine, and a bombing that had taken place in Pietermaritzburg. 

You see, no matter how many grown up things Zac is doing, or how well he’s adapting to this new level of independence, he is still a nine year old boy, and nine year old boys cannot process the injustice and terror and pain around us - heck, most days, I battle to process it. I love that Zac chose to call us, to find truth from a source he could trust, and be directed to Comfort and Peace that we share. Still, I really just wanted to grab him through the phone, put him on my lap, and hold him until he felt safe. 

The seven weeks that have passed since we last saw Zac are starting to feel like a lifetime, and there are another four to go still. God be with him, and us. 

Thirteen Words

They warned us about the second week. How it would be harder. How the excitement and novelty of everything would begin to wear off, and reality begin to set in. We were waiting for a wobble - that didn’t come. Not from Zac, anyway. It seems he didn’t get that second week memo. In fact, if anything, he has become more independent. Even this week’s email was only a single sentence of, “Hope you’re having a good day,” followed by another so closely thereafter that I couldn’t even send my reply off in time that read “It’s going well. Need to go. Bye!"

Still we are navigating the space between getting on with things, and holding onto things. We are settling into a new normal at home, grateful to be doing better than we imagined, but still acutely aware that we - or Zac - could feel differently at any time. I realise that, more and more, we will start to see the gap Zac’s absence leaves - like in church today when he wasn’t there singing. This week was hard for reasons far removed from Zac, but I missed him more. And I missed him most when, in an anxiety-induced tirade brought on by too many work demands and too little sleep, he was not there to come to me with a quiet hug and say, “it’s ok, Mom”.

It is both exciting and excruciating to consider my boy already becoming a young man. If you can break habits and form lifestyles in 21 days, how much more can a child change? I guess we’ll find out on the weekend - assuming of course that he can muster more than thirteen words. 

One Week

It's been a week since we said goodbye to Zac.

It was raining and moody last Sunday - quite uncharacteristically so, even for KZN - and it was kind of fitting. I’m awkward with goodbyes - unnecessarily stoic and appropriate. Andel is more open and spontaneous. Zac was unmoved - in a good way. I don’t think I could adequately explain or describe how, the one day Zac was this nine-year old boy from Cape Town, barefoot in shorts and little else, full of energy from being cramped up in a car for two days, and acting like a literal monkey. And then the next day he was the picture of maturity and independence, dressed in his Number Ones. A proper Drakie.

 The week since has been long and short at the same time. There’ve been a couple times in our life together that Andel and I have made the mistake of working the day of departure and returning to work 12hrs after arrival. This was another one of those times. Exhaustion has nothing on the levels of fatigue I’m feeling right now! But here we are: one week into the three weeks we aren’t allowed to phone each other, and Zac, Andel and I are fine, actually. Many people, all well-meaning, have checked in on us, and it’s been surprising for them just how fine we are. I put it down to these two things: firstly, we are now absolutely convinced that this is God’s plan for Zac’s life. We did not pursue it, we did not have to struggle for it all to work out, and we have had supernatural peace. Also, and perhaps this follows on from the first point, we have never seen Zac as happy and comfortable as he is at his new school. It’s hard as parents to be sad when our child is so, so happy. 

It takes some adjustment all the same though, and the two younger kids are still getting to grips with that. They don’t have the benefit of parental love and sacrifice. Sam misses Zac when he feels he has no one to play with, or when he wants someone to show or tell him something new that he can learn. Bayley misses Zac’s energy and quick wit, and how he lets her get away with things he shouldn’t. But they are both doing so well. Even with changing schools, they have amazed us with their resilience and confidence. I look forward to see them bloom now that they both have a little more room. 

We miss being a family of five, but we are not heartsore. Right now, we are enjoying not being outnumbered, and having the bread last more than two days. Let’s see if it’s still the same next week.

Sleep in Heavenly Peace

To say that I am tired is a grave understatement. I am not simply knackered; I am broken. My eyes are on fire, and I can feel my nasal bridge vibrating to the sound of the lawnmower cutting the grass outside my office window.

It started Sunday night, and I figured it was my fault. I returned to work yesterday, and I am not a Monday person. In fact, my Monday blues often begin around noon on Sunday already. On a Sunday afternoon you will find me at home, physically getting things ready, and mentally preparing myself for the week ahead. I'll seek some kind of temporary comfort (usually in food), and go to bed early. This weekend though, we we busy Saturday afternoon, had a church farewell on Sunday for lunch which ran unto tea time, and then a family birthday tea which we ended up leaving at 22h00. I was actually quite proud of myself (because I do recognise that my family prefers the holiday version of me anyway). 

When I got into bed at 23h00, I was already tired, so I expected to fall asleep easily. I didn’t. In fact, I tossed and turned for an hour before finally drifting off. It was short-lived though. Cape Town has had a pretty mild summer so far; the weather only really got hot on Saturday - and it was still there Sunday night. It was so uncomfortable that Andel actually got up at 02h00 to get something to drink and open the sliding door in our bedroom. That, and the mosquitoes the open door invited in, was all it took for me to rouse, and despite my desperate attempts to go back to sleep, I only got about an hour’s sleep before getting up for work.

Last night I was determined to go to sleep a little earlier, and I did - even after more goodbyes - only to be woken at 02h00 again. There was less heat, no open doors or visiting mosquitoes, and yet I still lay there awake. I eventually just got up at 04h30 - but not before realising something significant. You see, sometimes we may think or believe something, and we are so convincing, even to ourselves, that we don’t recognise all the signs pointing to the contrary. 

I have been pretty stoic the last while regarding Zac’s departure. I’ve resumed my juggling act of being employed, espoused, and endowed with children - but really, my sleepless nights are reminding me of the change in season that is, now, 2 days away. As I considered this, in the middle of the night, I went before the Lord - not because I was sad or worried, but because I wanted to hear from Him. He did not disappoint. As I picked up my phone to check the time, my social media was open, and on my screen read a post from someone I don’t even know personally:

God knows, man. Even the things we may not yet know, He knows, and He is there working all things out for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose. 

Pause - January 2022

 I recently had a little time on my hands (wink, wink), so I thought I’d get everyone back up to speed.

I’m thinking about... how divisive this pandemic is, generally. I don’t want to get into it except to say that there is enough pain, disappointment, and confusion without people disrespecting and disregarding each other. Agree to disagree. Be kind. And the church - use the opportunity to direct the world to living Hope who doesn’t change, regardless of which side of the arguments you stand.

I’m watching… cricket. Living in South Africa (maybe a couple other countries share this), cricket is almost synonymous with the festive season. I have these vivid memories of hot summer days, left over Christmas or New Years Day dessert, and the hum of commentary in the background. It’s just a pity that no spectators are allowed - and that the Proteas are playing so poorly. 

Aspiring Protea in an Indian shirt

I’m listening to… choral music, naturally. Not only have we been getting into the Drakensberg Boys Choir, I have thoroughly enjoyed listening to the One Voice Children’s Choir. I first heard them during lockdown doing a cover of Memories by Maroon 5, and then recently watched them perform What Child is This? on The Chosen: Christmas Special. 

I’m loving… tidal pool dipping. We are pretty fortunate to have a number of really picturesque and safe tidal pools to swim in. Tarrin, who dips almost daily in Ireland (yes, that cold country) has been trying to get me to do these dips more regularly, and when she was here in November we had a great early morning dip with the family. I since done two more - which isn’t much, but it’s a start considering it’s been bloody cold both times.

Miller's Point Tidal Pool

I’m busy… labelling everything. All three kids have changed schools, and the amount of stuff each one of them has that needs to be labelled is insane. I actually have a hole in my middle finger where the sewing needle has pierced it a couple times. I look forward to a time where my kids are older, more responsible, and less likely to lose items - or can label them themselves!

I’m going to… graduate soon. I mean, I hope so. I finished my Masters in September last year, and am eagerly awaiting my results. When I finished my teaching qualification, I was not invited to the graduation ceremony. They said something about it being a part time, correspondence degree. Anyway, considering the blood, sweat and tears, I do hope to at least have a Zoom photo or something this time around.  

I’m battling with… having to go back to work. On top of the usual anxiety I experience around it, I don’t really feel like I’m had any time for rest and relaxation, and I’m still tired. I also wonder if I’m over this season. I realise that I crave more flexibility to be involved with the kids while they are young, and to have remote working options while Zac is away. If 2021 taught me anything, it’s not to plan too far ahead, so who knows what may become still. 

I’m resolving to… erect healthy boundaries. I need to protect my time, my privacy, and my mental and emotional health. If I commit to do the best I can with what I have, then I don’t have to feel guilty about saying no to anything more than that, or worry about people’s (often unrealistic) expectations. It’s going to take some work, I know, but I have some good people in my corner who are going to hold me to it. 

Single Digits

 A bit of a blur. 

That’s how I’d describe the last few weeks. I blame it partly on the multiple, daily Covid-induced naps, partly on the hustle and bustle of the silly season, and mostly on the endless list of things to do for everyone heading into this year. Significantly, this blur has brought us within single digits of Zac’s departure. 

Surprisingly, after my wobble at the 6-week mark, I have actually been ok. No emotional outbursts, leaking eyes, or existential crises (yet). In fact, as I have sat sewing labels onto every item of Zac’s clothes (100 and counting), I have become increasingly excited at this opportunity for him. Even with him being ill, I was relieved to have had it happen here, at home. Rationally knowing that nothing could or would have been done differently means nothing to a control-freak mom like me. God, in His mercy, has allowed me to already have experienced my “worst” health fears for Zac, and I’m grateful for it. 

With a week left at home, Zac remains steadfast in his commitment and anticipation to leave. But I have seen him realise just how different it will be. He was vocal in his dislike of isolation, and had to adjust to being separated from Sam (with whom he has shared a room for two thirds of his life). I have also noticed him persevere in patience and gentleness with Bayley, and cuddle a little closer and longer with Andel and me. There is no doubt this is going to change his life - and rattle his cage - but he is unafraid, and I am so proud of him for that. 

Despite our best attempts to keep the next week simple, I suspect the haze we are in will remain as we do all the goodbyes, and extend beyond that into our 3000km road trip. And let’s not forget about the emotional cataclysm I’m expecting sometime thereafter. Nevertheless, we continue to take one day at a time; powered by the Peace that passes all understanding. 

Covid Chronicles

 When I thought about how we'd spend this holiday season as a family, making memories, soaking up the last bit of being together, I did not consider that we could be housebound, isolating - and yet, here we are. 

Andel felt ill first, but tested negative on Friday, and was wearing his mask everywhere - including in bed at night. Then on Saturday afternoon, after feeling fine all day, Zac suddenly started complaining of headaches, and later ran a fever. We tested him, and got the positive result not long after. Resigned to the fact that we would all have to isolate - or at least quarantine - we cancelled Christmas plans (for the second year running), and tried to separate Zac from everyone else. Since then though, a few more of us have joined the pandemic party. 

I guess it was inevitable. Just prior to Zac feeling ill, he and I had taken a drive and gotten some ice cream for our monthly date. Sunday morning I was still ok, but by lunch time I was overcome with debilitating body aches, and nonstop sneezing and nose blowing. Then yesterday Sam, who usually shares a room with Zac, started coughing and complaining about a tummy ache, and this morning began throwing up. So far Bayley remains unaffected. The jury is still out on whether she would require more of our energy and attention healthy or sick.

On this, Day 4 of isolation, here are a couple things we have learnt already:

* Covid sucks. Even though it's likely that we have the kinder Omicron variant, we have still felt pretty sick. There is no guarantee that you will have "mild, flu-like symptoms that disappear after a day", and I hate that people have used that very phrase to downplay what people are going through, or justify irresponsible behaviour.

* You can be so careful, and still become infected. We don't know where we got it from. We did not have close contact with any positive case, and have purposefully opted to stay home to avoid being sick.

* You can be how sick, when your kids are ill, they come first. I have never experienced incessant pain like I have the last couple days, but I would gladly take it if it means that my kids don't have to.

* There is always a silver lining; something to be thankful for. Had Zac become infected while at school, I think we would have been freaking out. Knowing that he's had it here, with us, and been ok, is very comforting. 

* This is the second year running that we not having a "traditional" family Christmas. Last year my parents were very sick with Covid, and we ended up doing our family celebration mid January. The first Christmas was pretty simple, and I feel like we are being reminded of that, even now. Who knows: it may become a new tradition for us. 

So for the next week at least, we try to heal and get some much needed rest. There is, after all, wisdom and peace in surrender.

Jireh

 Earlier this week I sat over my spreadsheet of things we need to get for Zac. Of course, this spreadsheet came into existence pretty soon after we made the decision for Zac to go - and the list is pretty extensive: DBCS branded uniform, other uniform, boarding requirements, academics requirements, general requirements. It's also very specific. And expensive. The plan was to wait for Black Friday to make as many purchases at reduced rates as possible. As it happened though, there weren't really any specials for the things I needed, and I'll admit: I felt defeated.

But that's how God works sometimes. He wants us to rely solely and fully on Him. He wants us to compare our spreadsheets with our bank balances and wonder how the heck they will ever add up. He wants us to realise how powerless we are. And then He shows us how powerful He is. 

Jehovah Jireh means "the Lord will provide". It's one of the most popular names for God. Earlier this year, Elevation Worship and Maverick City released a song titled, Jireh. There is a looped bridge in the song that goes something like this:

If you've followed the posts in this blog for a while, you'll know: Jesus loves Zac. I don't mean that He doesn't love anyone else or as much; I'm just saying, He has shown up for Zac one testimony after the next. This time is no different. Daily I am getting calls and messages from friends and family asking what they can contribute to help. I also got an email from one of Zac's current teachers, knowing that he needed to purchase something for an end of term event - and she offered to pay for it. And then a parent already with a boy in DBCS contacted me and offered me some clothing at a fraction of the price. I even got a bonus payout from my insurer!

This is no joke: this journey is stressful on every level. We still have a long way to go with many more things to pay. But God is in it, and He is living up to His name - Jireh.

Strength for Today

 It's amazing the things God whispers to us when we call out to Him and then listen. Since my early childhood, my life has been flooded with songs and hymns of praise and worship. I visit these melodies and words of truth often. Many times I hear my grandfather's voice, singing in my head...

As the magnitude of Zac's departure dawned on me this week, I reached out to my village of warrior women who pray with and for me. I had questions: How can I already feel so weak and tired? How am I going to get through the six weeks before our separation - and then the three weeks of radio silence, and another seven weeks of distance after that? 

As the news spread, so many people, each in their own unique way, sent me something that I need to hear. And then the song began in my head:

Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow

Blessings all mine with then thousand beside

Great is Thy faithfulness

Great is Thy faithfulness

Morning by morning new mercies I see

All I have needed Thy hand has provided

Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me

And there it is: the answer. 

We'll get through it one moment at a time, 

one message at a time,

one hug at a time, 

one promise at a time,

underpinned by prayer,

with strength for today, 

and hope for tomorrow.

As my Gramps and Gran Geduld would have sung it

Six Weeks

December has just started, and despite my resolve and strength over the last six months, I'm beginning to feel the cracks appear. Many of you probably won't know: Zac has been given the amazing opportunity to attend the Drakensberg Boys Choir School from January 2022. It's the second time he's been offered a place. Two years ago we declined an offer because it simply was not something we could afford. We still can't. But this time he's been given a scholarship, and he's keen, so we're giving it a go. 

For months, those in the know have asked me if we're crazy, and how we are coping - and somehow it's always been the truth to answer that we feel it's the right thing. God has granted us an incredible peace about how things have worked out, and challenged us to trust Him with Zac's life. Last night though, I lay in bed going through pictures of the kids, and asked Andel, "are we brave or insane?". His answer to me: "probably a little bit of both". 

Zac is 9 years and 6 months old, and in six weeks' time we will be driving into the Midlands (1500km away) to drop him off at his new school. It seems like the emotions have caught up with all of us. In the last week Zac has come to cuddle in my bed, sit on my lap on the swing, held my hand as we walked around the block. And while he is not afraid, he is realising - as am I - that this is going to be hard. The closeness of our family unit has been amplified since Covid, and the separation is going to hurt.  

The holidays will be bitter-sweet as we try to make the most of this time together, while preparing to say goodbye. We look forward to it all the same. So to keep track of the memories we make, and pour out everything this mama heart can't handle, I'm probably going to flood the pages here. I'm hoping it'll be therapeutic for me, and, looking back in years to come, bear testimony, once again, to God's goodness in our lives. 

Expect emotional posts and tears. Send prayers and wine. 

4 Bayley

 It's been so long since I blogged that it was only when I lay in bed last night - watching birth videos (an example of the nostalgic things one does the night before your child's birthday) - that my mind wandered to the fact that I had not given this birthday blog any thought. Whether it's that I've finally developed some chill, or that I am too far gone to be bothered, is immaterial at this point; I was pleased to find it was pretty much the same when Zac and Sam each turned four too. So here it is, a birthday post for Bayley:

My Bayley Cate...  (Let me start by saying: I never thought I would call you by your full name as much as I do. It's a beautiful name, but that's not why it's in frequent use. I have never related to Dave Seville from Alvin and the Chipmunks more!)

I actually can't believe that you are four. Where has the time gone? On the one hand, your birth is etched in my mind so clearly it's like it happened yesterday. On the other, you have become so grown up, independent, articulate, and fearless - I sometimes forget you are (were) just a baby. 

From the very beginning, life with you has been a wild ride - and nothing has changed! I marvel in awe, wonder, and terror at your benevolence, loveliness, quick wit, and sass. You are a thrill of adrenalin that rushes through my veins making me feel both frantic and completely alive. Your strong will, high drama, rule-breaking and risk-taking sends me into free fall - and then, somehow, you make me fly. What isn't there to love about you?

This coming of age is somewhat bittersweet. I'm saying goodbye to a decade consumed with babies. I will miss having you fit into my arms, breathing in that baby scent, and being your primary source of comfort. But I'm excited by this new chapter: to see us grow up together, carve out our own space in our family, and bond over (probably, not so) girly pastimes - and food, of course!

Happy birthday, my darling girl. I hope your day lives up to all you've dreamed of, and that the year ahead brings you a taste of all the rainbows, unicorns, and magic that you bring to the world. You are beautiful, strong, smart, and kind. My warrior-princess: Bayey the Brave. 

All my love, Mommy x

Keto Butter Chicken

 Navigating a keto diet with a family who isn't necessarily following the same can sometimes be tricky. That's why I like to keep the meals simple with easy substitutions - e.g. they eat rice; I eat caulimash. This is a butter chicken recipe that I adapted to suit our kitchen, and it's been an absolute hit in our house. I'm pretty sure that you can also add the regular non-keto things - like potatoes - if you wanted to.

Total Ingredients

* approximately 500g chicken breast meat (you can use deboned fillets or do that yourself at home)

* 1 cup double cream plain yogurt

* 3 tablespoons masala curry spice (I use an eleven-in-one because I like the taste)

* 3 teaspoons fresh, grated ginger

* 2 teaspoons minced garlic

* handful of roughly chopped fresh coriander

* 1 onion chopped

* 1 sachet tomato paste (you can also used tinned tomatoes if you want the substance)

* 1 teaspoon dried coriander

* 1 teaspoon cumin

* 2 tablespoons butter / ghee / coconut oil

* 1/2 cup heavy cream

Marinating Method

1. Use all the yogurt, 2 tablespoons masala, 2 teaspoons ginger, 2 teaspoons garlic, and some chopped coriander to create a marinade. 

2. Cut the chicken into small blocks and place in a large container with a lid. Cover completely with the marinade, and allow to chill in the fridge for at least at hour (I actually like to leave it overnight).

Cooking Method

1. Heat a little oil in a large pot, and start cooking the marinated chicken. I do it in bits at a time, and pour whatever remaining marinate is in with it. The chicken should take about 4 minutes per side to brown.

2. For the sauce mix the onion, remaining ginger, remaining garlic, tomato paste, and spices using a blender until everything is smooth. Then add to the pot, and cook the chicken in the sauce for a further 5 - 6 minutes. 

3. Stir the butter / ghee / coconut oil and cream into the pot, and cook for one more minute. Add salt and chilli (optional) to taste.

4. Serve with hot caulimash - or fragranced rice (Basmati or Jasmine work best) - and top with some fresh cilantro. 

This serves about 4 people but could be stretched to 6 if it's saucier or has other veg in it as well. 

ps. I forgot to take pics - I'll add some when I make this again. I doubt it'll be too long before then.

Keto Chocolate Mousse

 It turns out, the only way I can ever remember any recipes is to post them on this blog. This is a recipe I in celebration of Chocolate Day (July 6) when I found myself in the middle of a 21-day Keto detox. It was honestly so good and rich and creamy, that I couldn't have a lot of it without feeling ill. The amounts below are meant to be for a single serving, but I easy got four out of it. 

Ingredients

- 2 egg whites (at room temperature)

- 1/4 cup erythritol

- 1 cup (approximately 120g) of sugar-free dark chocolate (I like to do half plain dark and half mint)

- 1 cup heavy cream (from the fridge)

* if you're not doing Keto, you can just use regular sugar and chocolate

Method

1. Using an electric hand mixer, beat the egg whites in a clean, dry bowl until frothy.

2. Add the erythritol, one tablespoon at a time, while beating until airy white peaks form. This step took about 3 - 4 minutes.

3. Break the chocolate into small chunks, and melt in the microwave in 30-second increments in a large bowl. Stir between heating sessions, and repeat until all the chocolate is melted and smooth.

4. Fold the egg white + sweetener mixture into the chocolate until all is incorporated.

5. In a separate bowl beat the cream until soft white peaks form. There is no need to add sweetener here.

6. Combine the egg white + sweetener + chocolate mixture with the cream by hand until everything is blended. You may find here that some of your chocolate becomes chunky as the temperature changes. This is ok; it's a delicious surprise to find a chunk of chocolate in your mousse. 

7. Transfer the mousse mixture into a container with a lid, or into individual dessert ramekins for serving ease. Cover with the lid or with cling wrap, and refrigerate for at least 1 hour before serving. 

A yummy, guilt free chocolate treat that you'll be forced to eat in moderation. Enjoy!

No Bake Keto Cookies

 Desperate times call for desperate measures. I don't usually snack on sweet treats at all, but then I am usually at work, distracted and busy. Being home with kids who are requesting food every 90 minutes means that I have had to create snacks that are quick to prepare, easy to make, and healthy for our bodies. This recipe takes less than 20 minutes from start to finish, so it's worth a try!

Ingredients

* 2 tablespoons of real butter

* between 2 tablespoons - 1/4 cup erythritol, depending on your taste

* 2/3 cup natural peanut butter

* 1 cup desiccated coconut

* 1 tablespoon cocoa (optional)

Method

1. Melt butter and erythritol in the microwave in 30 second increments.

2. When the butter is completely melted, mix the peanut butter into it until smooth and glossy.

3. All the coconut to the wet mix and combine fully. At this point you can also add the cocoa if you are using it.

4. Scoop out teaspoon-sized cookie balls onto a baking tray lined with baking paper. Depending on the shape you want, you can leave the cookies in balls, or flatten them more. 

5. Place the baking tray with the cookies into the freezer for 10 minutes.

NB! 

These cookies must be stored in the fridge or they will melt and misshape. 

If you find that your cookies are a little too big / thick, you can cut them in half to serve. 

If you don't like the oily consistency, you can roll your cookies in more coconut before serving. 

The Last of the Single Digits

I'm not sure how we got here, but the last little while - last couple of days, especially - has made it very clear: my boy, my first baby, is growing up. Today Zac is nine!

Parents are often struck by the speed of it all. It's like we go to bed one night, cradling a newborn that we have zero clue how to raise, and wake the next morning with a tantrum-throwing threenager. It happens a couple times: toddler to pre-schooler, child to pre-teen... But I am equally taken by the measure. I had the privilege of spending some alone time with Zac the last three days (a whole 'nother story for a separate post), and was enamoured by this little human who is thoughtful and smart, independent and brave, funny, fun, and so responsible (Zac is not someone you want in the car when you have been traveling inter-provincially for 5 hours, and miss curfew by 8 minutes). It's almost unbelievable that he happens to be mine.

Zac, today on your birthday, I want to acknowledge the super young man you are beginning to sprout into, and tell you just how proud I am of who you are, and what you represent. You are wrapping up the first decade of your life, which has been filled with some pretty awesome things, and already the new year holds so many mind-blowing possibilities and opportunities for you. I want you to know just how special you are, and how much we love you - thorns and all. Jesus loves you, and has a perfect plan for your life. Continue to seek Him, obey Him, and trust Him - He won't ever let you down!

Happy birthday, my Peanut! All my love, Mom x

Six and So Special

 Honestly, I do look at the birthday posts I did for Zac when wanting to do a post for Sam. I try to keep it the same because, you know, second child syndrome and all that. This year though, I actually wanted to do something different. Well, the joke's on me; I just checked Zac's post, and it turns out I felt the same way three years ago when he turned six. Go figure.

There are so many heartwarming words that people use to describe you, Sam. You are funny, charming, passionate, creative, affectionate, smart, and resilient. But by far the most common one is: special. And oh how special you are! I guess it's been there since before you were born. There's always been a backstory with you, and you have always done everything in your own special way.

This past year has been a challenging one. As though growing out of a preschooler and into a big boy wasn't enough, you started your sixth year lockdown (and we're still in it!), you had to get to grips with your specs, adapt to online learning, and even move house. There have been many stumbling blocks and learning curves along the way, and I would be lying if I said I don't worry about how misunderstood you could be. But you always manage to stay smiling. You refuse to be squashed. You surprise me, and you soften my heart.

A few weeks ago, I found this passage in Jeremiah, and when I read it, I just knew it was for you:

My sweet boy, you are a gift to the world. You continue to show us how to stop when things get busy or overwhelming; slow down to acknowledge and enjoy the moment we are in; sit still to see things for more that what merely meets the eye. Your sensitivity makes you both compassionate and caring, and your sense of humour makes everyone around you feel both lighter and loved. You give the best hugs, tell the funniest jokes, and I could spend hours watching in wonder as you makes sense of the world in your own special way.

Happy birthday, Goose. I'm so glad that you still want bedtime prayers and goodnight kisses. I love you so very much! See you at 06h00...