Vroeteldier dag

Today the kids could take their pets to school.  In Afrikaans, troeteldiere.  Boeta (actually, he prefers to be called Wouter these days *insert rolling eyes*) seems to think that the correct word is “vroeteldiere”.  Which translates as “fidget animals”.  It is actually a beautiful word, I think.  So from now we officially have vroeteldiere in our house.

After today Wouter has decided that he wants a hamster as vroeteldier.  I’m not convinced.

Carien still seems convinced that she is the only pet anyone should want or need.  Mommy’s pet.  Teacher’s pet.  That’s Carien.

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Time for the tooth mouse

In the English speaking world you will refer to the tooth-for-money trader as the Tooth Fairy.  But around here and among  Afrikaans people it is a mouse.  But a nice mouse.  A clean one with no bubonic plague and fleas and definitely no running through your legs.  *shivers*

Wouter went to the Mighty Men camp this weekend.  The kids and I, my mom and my sister went to watch Tangled this afternoon on the “wall TV” (muur TV) complete with popcorn and Coke / Cream Soda.  The kids loved it and I have to admit that we probably loved it even more.  Afterwards Carien asked for some “pink sponge” (pink spons) aka candy floss.  While we were waiting to buy, Boeta mentioned having a sore tooth.  Very strange for him – he has never mentioned tooth problems before.  So I immediately asked him to show me were the tooth was hurting.

You could’ve knocked me over with a feather when he showed me a wobbly bottom tooth.  The one just left of middle.  He is turning 6 in 2 weeks’ time (5 April) so I suppose he is due but it completely slipped my mind. 

Stay tuned!  I will let you know when the mouse has made his appearance.

Happy anniversary to us

I am in a bit of a predicament.  I am at a loss for words. 

Today we celebrated Boeta’s second year of being in remission.  And the shocking bit?  I only realised that it was a significant date when someone asked me during the course of the day how long Boeta has been in remission and it hit me like a hammer to the head – it is the 16th of March.  The day after my sister’s birthday. 

I thought I would live for, look forward to, strive for this day every year.  The same way that I dread, loath, abhor 23 December.  But here it snuck up on me.  Does this mean that I may just be starting to rejoin normal life?  I’ve given a brave step in that direction last week.  During a Oncomom Tea I dramatically and symbolically took the tube of Emla* that I still carried in my handbag and handed it over to a new mom.  Until that moment Jane was a Mother Who Dealt With Paediatric Cancer.  Now she is an Oncomom.  Respect, Jane!

Boeta and Carien are in bed, sleeping like logs.  I look at them and can’t reconcile what I see with the sick, skinny boy and the baby girl we had 2 years ago.  They are both loud, healthy, busy and such a blessing.

Please join us in a prayer of thanks.  Give thanks for Boeta’s healing and for the amazing people who were involved in the process.  We couldn’t have done this without you.

*Emla is a topical anaesthetic cream that is applied to the skin before drips are inserted and injections are given.  It helps a bit for the physical pain and a lot for the mental agony.

The start of the next chapter

Back in the days of treatment (oh, how far away that sounds) Annelize used to say that she didn’t do any rehab work on Boeta.  That would come later.  At that stage her job as occupational & play therapist focused on his survival.  The first time she said it I thought it was a bit melodramatic.  Until I thought about it and realised that she was absolutely, spot-on correct.

Well, he survived.   

And he survived well.

But now it is time for the rehab to start.  I can’t get the words lined up to tell you about it.  I need to wrap myself around it and it around me.  It is a bit hard on a mother’s heart (even when the mother was told that this day would come) when you are told that your child is struggling to cope in pre-school.  And it is strange because in some ways he is waaaayyy ahead of his age group while in some other ways he is lagging so far behind. 

This coming week Boeta’s teacher and Annelize will meet up and decide what to do.  What he needs and what needs to be done.  It is times like these ….  I have to find a job.  But now (again) I have no idea what my days are going to look like.  Will I be able to juggle work hours and Boeta’s wellbeing?  Because ultimately our child(ren) and family come(s) first.

TGIF

That would be, Today God Is First.  I was invited to speak at the Dutch Reformed Church Durbanville Bergsig this morning.  At 05:30.  And I was there.  On time.  At 05:30.  Can you believe it?  Admittedly, I prayed last night for a good night’s sleep and for a clear head when I wake.  I’ve been known to snooze the alarm for 2 hours and still deny ever hearing it in the first place.

I spent a great deal of today second guessing myself.  I am usually excellent at timing my speaking but today I had until 07:00, I wanted to finish at 06:50 and I only finished at 07:00.  Being a bit of a control freak I am devastated that I overshot.  Quite ironic since my conclusion to the talk was that we as humans should make peace with the fact that we can’t always be in control.  And then I drove home beating myself up because I didn’t control everything.  Note to self:  follow your own advice, smartass.

Carien decided not to go to school today.  When we drove to school to fetch Boeta I yawned from ear to ear.  My early day started to catch up with me. 

S:  (making conversation)  Are you just as tired as mommy is?

C:  (yawning too)  Yes.

silence

C:  (thoughtful)  Mommy, I think you should look and drive and then I will sleep a bit.  (Ek dink Mamma moet so kyk en ry en dan sal ekke ‘n bietjie slapies)

Thanks, doll.  I really appreciate your cooperation.  So I looked, I drove, and she didn’t take the opportunity to sleep.  I mean, really???  It was 40 degrees Celsius in Cape Town today.  Keeping still and sleeping seemed like the logical options to me. 

Oh well.  She will grow up, grow old and wish for the days when she could sleep every day.  Like I do.