The Standoff....

It built up slowly, but we all saw it coming.

I think he thought he could hold us off a little longer, but we gathered up every ounce of courage we had left and decided we MUST make our stand.

It was at the now or never point.

We are in a life or death situation…

Or so my toddler thinks!

We’ve taken away the teat.

I know…I know…

{gasps} Evil Mommy!

Again…or so my toddler thinks!!

Sunday night was the drawing line.

Lil Mister can be so adorable with his ‘pweece Mama’ and ‘net rama maak’ (just make it a little warmer) that it usually breaks all my strong barriers down.

Kind of like when Puss from Shrek gives the ‘eyes.’

But this….this was past all willingness to succumb.

Six…

I repeat… SIX times did Lil Mister wake up Sunday night wanting more milk.

I mean seriously people this child is 27 months old. He is over the two year mark. SIX TIMES!! {That’s nothing…wait for what comes next!}

My patience was depleted. Hubby’s temper had reached maximum capacity.

We were on the edge of a parental breakdown.

Hubby ended up sleeping in Lil Mister’s bed just so we could get some rest.

Monday morning arrived and I informed Hubby that I’d made the decision….to toss the teat. I could not; can not see any other method of solution.

We must get him to stop waking up!

I also strongly feel that no teat will eventually equal a fully potty trained child!!!

I spoke with Lil Mister’s crèche teacher and she agreed. It was time. She told me not to worry. She assured me they’d get him to nap just fine.

I swear she is magic. I had high hopes for last night.

When I arrived at school to collect Lil Mister, I was informed that he asked for the teat a little and moaned but she calmly explained there is no teat and he went to sleep….without drinking his milk!!

{I’m not so cruel…I did send milk but in a sippy cup bottle…not a teat!}

Yesterday evening was wonderful. There were no tantrums. He ate a good dinner and bathed with a lot of fun.

My blood pressure was rising before we even faced the bedtime. I knew it was not going to be so easy as the school made it. I do not have teacher magic. I have buttons….ones in which my children know all to well how to push!

After bath was over, Lil Mister walked out of the bathroom and right up to me in the kitchen where I was preparing his milk for bed…

‘Nie die tee nie!’ {not that tea} he said with as much tears as he could muster.

My heart began to break but I encouraged myself that this is for the best! He’s going to thank me one day when his teeth are NOT rotting out of his head!

‘I’m so sorry my angel but there is no other tea. You must drink this one.’

He throws himself on the floor like some kind of Jackie Chan move and screams. It is a blood curdling scream.

Bed time….fail.

We continue for the next 30 minutes with wrenching screams, but they begin to fain. I feel the end is in sight. I breathe a sigh of relief as I see him slowly drift to sleep in his fathers arms.

We steal a glance to each other and dare…oh we dare to smile.

The nappy goes on and they lie a little longer together. As he moves, I see the face twitch. He pauses. It’s like a ninja. We dare not let a drop of sweat fall. Lil Mister calms. He stills. He sighs into sleep again.

Hubby stands and leaves the room. I follow suit.

We sit relaxed on the couch. We cannot believe it went so well. Only 30 minutes.

I calmly allow myself to drift to sleep. Hubby wakes me. We climb into bed. It’s been 45 minutes since Lil Mister slept.

As I lie my head on the pillow….it begins. It’s a whimper. Then a ‘my Papa.’ Then….a scream.

There was no calming him this time as he repeatedly screamed for milk.

He tries to throw the bottle we give him every.single.time until I finally refuse to give it to him.

Hubby retreats to the couch and leaves me to my own.

We eye each other. Lil Mister knows its just me and him. He throws himself on his bed and screams.

And he screams. And he cries. And he screams.

He comes to my bed. He goes to his bed. He lays on the floor.

He screams. He cries. He screams….

For.FOUR.HOURS.

That’s right, dudes, you read me right. Four frackin’ hours.

I’m sitting, in a ball, on my bed, rocking. He lies in his bed. I hear the screams begin to break up. I hear the muffled by sobs breathes in between growing longer. I can envision his eyes beginning to droop.

And then….in the midst of all fear….

He sleeps.

I sleep.

Shana..

Wordless Wednesday

Linking up with Blog She. for Wordless Wednesday!

Shana..

Teaching them the meaning...

Easter weekend was a lot of fun in our family, but it got me thinking about things I want my children to know and understand.

My faith in God and God being the head of our household is a very important issue for me.

So it has been a touch and go subject with Hubby Dearest and I about how to approach certain holidays.

I LOVE the memories I have as a child surrounding Easter and strongly want those for my children too. However, I still know the meaning of the holiday and that is, too, something my children must understand.

So how do you combine the modern themes with the true meanings without loosing something?

I’m blessed that we found a lovely school that also provides crèche for Lil Mister. The school ages from 1 year all the way until you graduate high school. It is grounded in Christian beliefs and teaches the Bible right along with each subject.

Hubby and I love this. We love the environment and the people. I loved seeing Lil Mister come home with Easter art projects that centered around the resurrection of Christ (at his age the crucifixion is a little too…much! We focus only on the life and resurrection, casually mentioning the death part as we read the story. We’ll focus more on that as he gets older!).

Still, though, on the last day of school before holiday his school report along with some awesome candies were in an adorable basket made into an bunny face from paper plates.

At home, during our Bible time, we read the story of the resurrection and how miraculous it was. But I still made an Easter basket and did an egg hunt over the weekend.

Am I confusing him?

A lot of people will argue with me and say that I am.

A lot of people will question what my answers will be when my boys start wondering how it all pieces together.

For now, Hubby Dearest and I are taking it holiday for holiday. We teach our sons the true meaning of Easter. They know about Jesus and why we celebrate his resurrection (well, they will know as they grow! Admittedly, they are quite small still!). I’m trying my best to teach my sons that they can have a personal relationship with God and Jesus by exemplifying that relationship in my own life.

But we teach them that this is also a time to celebrate! Easter is a celebration…not just a history lesson! What do balloons have to do with a birthday? So what does a bunny have to do with Easter? They are fun traditions we do, as a family because we’re celebrating Jesus’ life.

There are lots of stories of pagan traditions. There are links from the egg to rebirth. There are numerous ideals of how to link the two.

Quite simply, I don’t see the point in putting so much into it. God knows the place of our hearts. I want in my heart, for my children to know the point of Easter. I want them to know the significance of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection. I want them to know to celebrate all of these things.

So, for me and my house, we will worship God. We will also do Easter egg hunts and put up Christmas trees! ;-)

Besides….where in the Bible does it say we must celebrate Easter? If you want to get technical…..

Shana..

Easter Weekend....

It’s been a bit of a transition for us, not living with our parents that is.

I love having my own house. I enjoy the sense of freedom we’ve gained as a family.

However, it becomes lonely.

I’m used to having Ma there for middle of the night coffees and long Saturday morning chats. I’m used to the big loud family crowded in the not enough places to sit lounge. I’m used to cooking for 6+, definitely not 2!

So, every chance we get….we visit! Whether they’ve come here…or like over Easter we went to Ma. It was a great and relaxing three days. I just wish it was longer. But here is what we got up to…

A lot of nothing and a little bit of everything!! ;-)

LJ got to meet Jayden….again. Jason and Shanna came and visited the weekend we brought LJ home from the hospital, but LJ was so little then! (3 days old!) So now only being 3 months apart in age…we hope they’re good friends one day. Here was their first encounter!

Lil Mister was a little bit shy at first. He found his sunglasses that morning as we were packing to leave. He has since then become obsessed with them!

And we caught up with old friends!

We spent some time at the ‘Hassie Park.’ But that is another post all in itself!

And….

Lil Mister experienced his first Easter basket! I felt that under two years of age…he just wouldn’t have enjoyed it as much. I guess I’m going to have to rethink this logic with LJ because I can’t see giving Lil Mister a basket next year and not giving LJ something!! We all enjoyed this one a little bit though!

And after church on Sunday….Lil Mister had an Easter egg hunt!

Otherwise….we just spent a lot of time as a family. It really sucked that Vin wasn’t with us. But, we all have to face responsibilities and work sometimes must come first. We’re really going to miss Quintin, Pa, and Ma but….we’re close at least and talk constantly as we travel these new adventures….apart but still together as a family!! ;-)

LJ's first sucker thanks to Oupa!

Shana..

Home will be no more...

I posted here about the death of my great-grandmother.

From what I know, she passed away peacefully.

I know that she has joined my grandmother, great grandfather and my uncle who left this world before her. I know that she is renewed and dancing in the streets of heaven. Or sitting on some cloud knitting as that would more suit her. But these are things for another post.

Today, I’m stuck in my own mind. Nothing seems to be pulling me from this. There is pressure and force all around me. My limbs grow weaker as the moments inch forward.

The weight that bears down on me is sometimes unbearable.

I seek not sympathy because I have chosen this path.

I ask not for understanding because that would mean you, too, must endure this pain.

I would not receive your pity because my GOD is stronger than this world.

When I made the decision to come to South Africa….I was young both literally and figuratively. Although I had lived both on my own and with others and had supported myself in many ways, I could not comprehend in my youth the extremity of my decision.

I could not even begin to grasp how far I actually would be from my family. The concept that I couldn’t get back when I wanted to, let alone when needed, never crossed my mind.

The realization that I would be severing a life once lived to the fullest would only come months down the road.

To me…money did not relate and social media filled all gaps.

But a like on Facebook cannot replace a hug. A retweet on Twitter cannot replace the warmth of a smile. And a LoL on text cannot replace the sound of a loved ones laugh.

Skype, no matter how fulfilling, cannot replace the hand reached out to your knee during a deep conversation. It cannot make up for the coffees missed with your mom or the lunch dates with your dad.

None of this, nothing, can make you truly feel connected to these people. Not when you’re talking years without in person connection.

This is how it feels….

I imagine I’m standing in the middle of the ocean. All around me there is just water. Not even the fish swim near me.

I’m facing South Africa, looking over my shoulder towards America.

Neither can I see…but I know they’re there.

There are these gold ropes attached to me from within. They are as much a part of me as my own arms and legs. There is a rope for every human/personal connection I’ve made in both countries.

There is a rope for my father and mother. Step and half siblings. Aunts and uncles. Friends. These ropes are thicker and thinner and stronger and weaker based on the depth of the relationship I had with these people. The thicker and stronger the rope….the larger the pull.

In South Africa, the ropes signify my family and children here. My friends and my church. My job and my activities.

The moment I boarded the plane many fine ropes broke away from my back. The connection to my current job ended. The extent of my relationship with my current church was severed. Friends who were more like acquaintances dropped instantly as their pull was not a blink compared to Hubby’s.

As I flew across the oceans, the rope from my front, Hubby’s rope grew broader and stronger. Each hour that passed made my connection and my dependency on him deeper. He was the only thing pulling me from the world I’d known.

The moment I landed in South Africa, new ropes started forming. I immediately formed a connection with Amanzimtoti. It was my first ‘home’ in South Africa. It gave me my first experience of the beach, which quickly grew it’s own rope as a place of tranquility and relaxation.

Hubby’s family and close friends popped out ropes like the jack popping out of the box. I was creating connections that would hold me here forever. Ropes that could not be broken by mere distance.

The same as some ropes back home.

A tug of war game was brewing within me. It expelled out of me at times of weakness. It’s waged its war, affecting all who are connected.

Time severed many ropes. Connections to memories of places now fell way to new connections. The ropes wear thin in the weather of life’s storms. An old connection to my high school cannot hold strength to my current work. The memories remain but the pull of that ‘home’ no longer exist.

But ropes left to suffer the extremes of the weather….they need care.

Connections need supplement.

So as time progresses, conversations are lost…the ropes pulling me home wane.

Connections to old friends grow weak as I nurture the relations I have here. The ropes of my Hubby and children are the strongest there is. Eventually, ropes of friends here become broad and heavy as my effort goes towards those ‘real’ relationships. It is not that I do not love or miss others….but I must continue to live my life here.

The ropes eventually break when you look back and realize you’ve not spoken in years.

But the worst cut. The one that ends it forever. Death.

Each time a rope is cut….the pull to South Africa grows stronger. I become more rooted where I am.

My life froze in my mind when I left America but those I left behind…their lives continued growing and moving forward.

Each death….each cruel realization that I will never see that person again leaves the remaining ropes working harder. They tire more quickly. Their weight is heavier.

One day….one day the ropes pulling me home will be no more. 

TT- Summer Vacation

Tick…

Tick…

Tick….

She glances at the clock again. TWO MINUTES. It feels like a century but only two minutes have passed.

She looks back at her desk.

It’s the last test.

She just needs to complete this one…last…test.

Tick…

Tick…

Tick…

She looks again at the clock on the wall. It’s almost time. Only five minutes left.

She begins to get uneasy in her seat.

She shifts her weight from one side to the other.

Tap..tap..tap

Her pencil hits the wooden top repeatedly.

She hurriedly scribbles in one final answer.

Her heart rate is picking up.

She can feel the excitement swelling inside her.

As she looks at the other classmates, they too are unsettled. A murmur roams through the classroom as papers get shifted and feet are shuffled underneath the desks.

Eyes glance warily at each other as if the fear of it never happening actually comes true.

Tick…

Tick…

Tick…

Is it possible that the time is slowing down?

Will it ever come to an end??

And then….in a moment of utter silence; every breath is held and every appendage is stilled….

….

The bell rings!!

Papers fly, screams erupt and summer vacation has finally arrived.

This post is written in response to Jenn’s,  from SomethingClever2.0, Theme Thursday topic; summer vacation. 

Shana..

Wordless Wednesday

Better Late than Never...

Linking up with Wordless Wednesday

She's gone....

I got a message from my family yesterday….on Facebook of course.

My great-grandmother, Big Grandma, as I called her growing up has passed away. She was 101 years old.

To this…I wrote…

Each time it seems that I’m the one slipping further away. Relationships are not what they used to be and weeks, months pass without an exchange of words. We’re all just shadows of a previous time in each others lives. Regret is not the word but realization that I do not exist in two places. Soon there will be no one left for me to return to and my opportunity to visit will have passed us by. Maybe it makes it easier to cope…not talking that is or maybe its just so simple to let someone fade into the background. I still love my family very much and wish I was with you all today. Love is a cruel mistress these days.

RIP Big Grandma. You were the strongest woman I’ve ever known and I know you’re happy and blessed today. I love you.

…..to that I’m done today.

Shana..