We’re all sick and it isn’t much fun

Cousins

Finally the boys got to meet; we placed the two of them in front of each other, they checked one another out and tried to eat each other. It felt like this was the coming together of brothers, especially because they are so close in age and because my sister and I have such a close relationship. I am completely in love with her beautiful boy and she with mine. I do hope it's not long before we are all together again.

Nothing in his cupboard fits.

He'll be 12 weeks and about 6kg tomorrow- seemingly a tricky size category: 3-6 month clothes are all too big (their ideal size is actually 7.5kg), and the 1-3 month clothes no longer fit, unless the feet of the babygrows are cut off, in which case they fit okay but are a bit cold...

Fishy tank

Tough times have befallen the Malawians. Those remaining in the tank are few. It’s been slow going, but most have dropped off, or floated up, unable to withstand the brutality shown toward them by fellow fish. Even now, with more caves than fish, the Malawian cichlids still fight. We were warned- Territoriality is in their nature. They are naturally aggressive fish. And, let me tell you, if there were an injury log it would read like a hospital registry in a war torn city.

Those still swimming have weathered their fair share of storms, from flesh wounds to badly mangled fins. They parade proudly, keeping gaurd of their caves like the bouncers at Burn. But they've earned this snobbery: of the four remaining, three were among the first inhabitants of this aquatic battle arena! They were around when we still made an effort to remember names:

Elongatus

Compressicep

And “Grey sharky”

Then Frontoasa, the fish we put a fair amount of work into procuring:
He was the last to be introduced to the tank of already grown cichlids and has survived almost miraculously well. Until just the other day. It seemed someone put a hit out on him. No cave was safe. No fish friend. With fins hurting he kept swimming and now, dare I say, he seems to have turned a corner. As of today he no longer cowers in Grey Sharky's cave getting pecked at.

Thankfully Rob and I won't have to erect the hospital tank again (as we did when the first fragile fish showed signs of fatality).

The 'hospital tank' was more like a tray blocking off a corner of the tank anyway and it didn't really work...

The way things once were:

Creative Sunday

I'm obviously feeling rather creative today. On returning from a lovely family walk to get breakfast at the Arts Cafe I made the mobile I've been looking forward to making since Son was born.















The grannies each contributed; Granny Viv with the blue pompoms and Granny Bess with the red one in the middle. It balances surprisingly well and spins nicely too. It hangs above Son's changing table.

After that I did some work on my painting. The one I started when I moved to Durban. Since we've been in the new house it's been collecting lizard poo and looking at me every time I park my car in the garage. Oscar the gardener hung it up there. So instead of giving it away as planned, I kept it, and started to see where I could make improvements!















I don't have a before pic to show the "improvements" but I do have the original:
















Wouldn't consider myself a realist :)

Recycling

Dear Mommy of Mr X (Who from now on will be referred to as 'Mommy X')

You expressed some interest in recycling and, while I’m no expert, I have finally started recycling at my home so let me break it down for you and you’ll see how easy it is:


*The traditional garbage bin becomes for organic waste only.

Such as: The stuff that can decompose naturally
eg. banana peels, left-overs and tea bags
Collection: Leave these black plastic bags for the municipality as you’ve done all along


*Have a separate bag/bin for paper and plastic

Such as: Cereal boxes, newspaper, yogurt and milk containers
Collection: Put all this in the orange bag now supplied by the municipality too. They will collect it from outside your home on your street’s trash collection day.


*Have a bin for tins and bottles (ours is in the garage)

Such as: beans etc and all those lovely bottles of wine
Collection: either separate and wash the tins and bottles then find out (from your neighbour who recycles) where the closest drop off point is OR
Simply purchase recyclable green bags from Spar and sign up with Earth Green who, for R50 a month, will collect all these unwashed and unsorted items (plus paper and plastic if you want) and take them to the drop-off point for you where it will be sorted and processed, AND relevant items will be distributed to various community arts projects!

Seriously, it couldn’t be easier.

Soon you might be green like me; asking for take-away organic sarmies in your own non-disposable container! Yes people, I got lunch, from a restaurant, for Mommy X and I, in Tupperware yesterday. I'm now one of those...

We heart Ellies

See below an image illustrating Son’s growing fondness of Elephant.
This morning Dad told Son that his favourite toy was also an elephant. He named the Elephant Yonty (and believes his brother was later named after this very elephant). His favourite dog was named Lucky and he was confused when Lucky ate Yonty. Even though Granny Bess tried her best to fix Yonty, he was never the same; the stuffing had been ripped right out of him. Let’s hope such a fate never befalls Son’s Ellie (as yet unnamed)...

Picnic: Take 2

Off we went to the Botanic Gardens this Youth Day*

At first Son slept sweetly in his pram, or his 'ride' as he prefers to call it ...




















Whilst we relaxed on the grass, enjoying some adult company















Then Son woke up and enjoyed some kiddy company:
Son with his friends, 'Mr X' and 'Ray'















And the chicks really did dig his ride! Lucky guy!

(Close up on his top, if you don't get the joke)

Happiness is!

So, unlike the last one, picnic number 2 was a resounding success.

* A note one Youth Day: previously known as Soweto Day.

In 1975 protests started in African schools after a directive from the previous Bantu Education Department that Afrikaans had to be used on an equal basis with English as a language of instruction in secondary schools. The issue however, was not so much the Afrikaans as the whole system of Bantu education which was characterised by separate schools and universities, poor facilities, overcrowded classrooms and inadequately trained teachers. On 16 June 1976 more than 20 000 pupils from Soweto began a protest march. In the wake of clashes with the police, and the violence that ensued during the next few weeks, approximately 700 hundred people, many of them youths, were killed and property destroyed.

Youth Day commemorates these events. [Source]

Son, signing out

To stretch or not to stretch

It makes sense to me that I should (at least try to) stretch Son’s feeds to 3 hours. That way when he drinks he will be hungry and take in more than if he were to snack every hour. But what if he doesn’t take more? What if he only feeds for a few minutes then starts babbling to me with a big smile, or falls asleep refusing to open his mouth, or cries as soon as a lay him horizontally in an attempt to continue the feed? (In the latter case I'm usually sure it's a wind) I know that I have a lot of milk for this boy-- when I express I can get 60ml in under 5 minutes-- so that’s not the problem, he’s just not that into it. If he is getting enough milk from a short feed, which is possible, why then is he so fractious during the day and restless at night? Unrelated to the feeding? Somehow I don’t think so. His weight also indicates that he could be eating more. So what do I do- feed him every hour?

As you know I don't usually ask my readers for advice, but over at Tertia's blog-- when she blogged about a similar problem, albeit on the opposite side of the scale-- she got over 120 helpful pieces of advice to consider, most in favour of demand feeding all the way! Which is what I've been trying to "graduate" from? So I'd be interested to hear your thoughts...

Sweet child of mine

Last night, or more precisely, this morning, as I sat nursing my son, I began constructing a blog in my head about the ridiculous amount of times I have my sleep interrupted throughout the night in order to soothe/feed/rock/change. But then I thought; wait a minute, people are going to think all I do is complain. So the tone of the blog I was constructing changed, and instead of starting "they say that when you are pregnant the times you get up to pee in the night is a good indicator of the times you will be waking when your child arives, but let me tell you something..." I planned to start like this:

I am so completely in love with my son. He is the most precious thing in the world and I thank the powers that be everyday, all of the time, for bestowing upon me such blessing. Whether he's awake or asleep, I feel I could just crumble with love. If I have left him in the care of another, or even sometimes when he's slept for more than the expected 10 minutes, I begin to miss him and imagine his soft beautiful face smiling at me until my heart sings. There are countless moments to cherish in every minute I spend with him. Looking at me with his big blue eyes Hh 'talks' with the confidence that I understand, because I am his mother, his life-line. And I do understand him in some profoundly instinctive way, just as he undestands me. Yes, this is love

And that's my blog, which I thought up at about 3am, started writing at 8:33, and only finished now at 14:27 because I have been soothing/feeding/rocking/changing and, because it's day time, add playing/talking/singing.