Like sand through the hourglass … (heavy pause) … these are The Days Of Our Lives

We made a quick guest appearance at the hospital today.  Unscheduled, of course.  And upon opening a file I gave my occupation as “house wife”.  Those of you who know me well can stop reading now.  The rest of the post is aimed at telling those who don’t know me how utterly un-me that description is.  If you know me you won’t need any explanation.

After going on a bath hiatus for 10 months Woutertjie turned into a hydrophile overnight.  I suspect it is because he is so covered in dirt that the water doesn’t actually penetrate down to his skin.*  I can tell you exactly when he went anti-bath … the day after he got his Broviac.  He was so scared that his “pypie” (little pipe) would get wet that he refused to go near the bath.  And then it became one of his Things.  He refuses to allow the sterile paper to touch his skin when his dressing is changed, he insists on having his milk in a bottle and he speaks his version of English whenever he is serious about anything.  So from January until November he didn’t bath.  I had to trick him into a wipe-down whenever he became too obviously dirty – even a wet washcloth was too close to a bath for his liking.  And then suddenly (totally unscheduled 😉 ) he liked bathing again.  This morning I dumped the kids in the bath and while I was dressing Carien afterwards Boeta had such fun that his Broviac dressing was dripping wet…  So we had to toddle off to the hospital to remedy that.  Carien is busy potty training (she is 2 years and 4 months old) and in a moment of lunacy as a show of good faith I let her keep her panties on instead of insisting on a nappy.  So when we got hospital I had to deal with an over-excited patient-to-be and a thoroughly wet toddler.  Someone in the hospital who I shall not name because I love her so much 😉 stole  …  appropriated … gave me a nappy from their emergency stock.  So Carien was walking around in hospital in a shirt and a nappy.  Eish.

Back to the story.

While we were in hospital Debbie, who I love very much, got hold of Gerrit and they decided to do Boeta’s weekly nose tube replacement today instead of tomorrow.  While Carien and I “fetched some ‘stok chippies” (stick chips aka NikNaks) Boeta had his tube replaced.  He wasn’t overly excited when I got back but thanks to Dormicum he doesn’t remember a thing, not even about not being impressed. 

So once again I spent my day as a house wife being everywhere but at home.  I feel less bad for my terrible householding skills now. 

I’m not a natural house wife.  My mom is.  I admire her for being able to run the house and still have time to run her family too.  And trust me, she runs us.  I can’t seem to manage anything home related.  But I sort of got over the guilt thing when I realised that I now spend less time at home than when I was working full time.  So much for being a house wife.

*Disclaimer:  He doesn’t stink at least.  Some of the washcloth wiping of the last 10 months must’ve worked.


3 Responses

  1. I can fully relate on the housewife thing – I am terrible at housework and you end up always running around. Have done this for nearly 3 years and have never become any good at it at all.

  2. giegiegie. klink na ‘n vrolike familie so tussen al die chaos deur

  3. That was quite a shock seeing your title – I went to bed last night with that phrase stuck in my head. And I only saw the post today.

    I don’t comment much, but I read regularly (still catching up after 2 days with no Vodacom functionality for all of Umtata) and (usually) enjoy seeing the progress, in spite of the bad side too.

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