Archive for April, 2010

by Laura Allmayer,   co-founder of Journey2Joy, mom to two little people, compulsive blogger and twitter addict. When she’s not blogging  she’s planning baby showers and helping moms prepare for their new babies.

“Being a mother is NOT about being a martyr and giving up everything that makes you happy. It is NOT about sacrificing your own identity to that of your children. It is NOT about being oppressed and unhappy”
from Sleepless Night by  Veronica Foale

This statement, for me, is one of the most profound statements I have read on motherhood. It is also one that few mothers understand.

I recently joined a group of moms mainly to try and build up a new network of people. But within a week of trying to participate I actually couldn’t do it anymore. It is also the same reason I left a parenting forum I was part of.

I am a mother and as a mother my children do come first but not at the expense of who I am as a person.

I personally do not see the value in the breastfeeding vs. bottle and Caesar vs. natural debates that ultimately end in harsh words and unfair judgment! I had two Caesars and did not enjoy breastfeeding at all so did it for a very short time and not exclusively! SO WHAT? How does that affect anyone else’s child? I made the decision and I will deal with any consequences of it! If and when a new mom asks for my opinion I will give them just that – my opinion of what worked well for me and my children.

My opinion is not gospel. It’s not necessarily right nor is it what I expect you to do. I rarely justify my decisions but I do find that when I am around other mothers I often feel I should justify why my kids eat cake for breakfast and both still have a sports bottle at night! It annoys me no end.

Parenting is scary and even if you follow the crowd there is a strong chance you will still get it wrong. There is nothing like a screaming newborn or a tantruming toddler to bring a grown person to their knees in a ball of insecure misery! If you have a child you have been there! So why not trust yourself and follow your instinct and to hell with everyone else.

When 2 or more mothers find themselves in a space together its like they loose all sense of self and turn into competitive freaks who think by giving up their happiness they are ensuring their kids happiness. This is in fact the exact opposite.

A friend of mine tells me often that the only way kids learn is through what they see. If a child sees its parents functioning as whole people, having interests and hobbies and activities outside of them – they will learn to balance their lives. When a child sees their parents devoting time to each other – they will learn to do the same with their partner.

You can not teach a child to be happy – you have to be happy!

So this mothers day be happy! Enjoy your child as they are. Leave the house as it is. Put away your boobs, bottles, flash cards and Baby Whisperer and just laugh a little bit!

by Fiona Ingram, a  South African writer who loves books, travel, animals, antiques, and adventures of all kinds! Read Fiona’s author site and find out about her recently published children’s adventure novel

I never ever imagined myself as a mother. Growing up with four brothers, three of them younger than me, meant I had my fair share of bottles, nappies, homework, bedtime stories and all the things big sisters do. My studies and career came first for a long time and the men I dated weren’t interested in having kids. Then the biggest drawback of all: I never felt “grown-up enough” to take on the responsibility of my own child. The year I went overseas with my two nephews, the year that inspired my first children’s book, I suddenly had this desire to adopt a child. Not give birth, please note, but adopt some little mite who needed a home. Two weeks in Egypt with my nephews aged 10 and 12 were enough to rid me of any maternal feelings and make me decide to just stick to being a good aunt. I had changed my mind about children.

About three months after this trip, I had a visit from a domestic worker who had worked for me a few years back—she had a problem. She arrived with her daughter Mabel, now aged eleven. I remembered Mabel as an enchanting child aged six, all arms and legs and a big smile. But I got married, Josephine left my employ, and we didn’t see each other for another five years. Josephine came straight to the point and asked me to foster Mabel so she could get a better education.

Thinking for the briefest of nano-seconds that “nothing would change,” I said yes. Of course, everything changed. I developed maternal feelings worthy of a lioness guarding her cubs from danger. I also became an expert on the shortcomings of our ever-changing education system, the life-cycle of any insect, reptile, or bird you care to mention, and in anything to help my foster child get an education. Mabel had already failed Grade 2, was advised to repeat Grade 4, and was basically illiterate. How is that possible, I asked myself? I began the slow and often painful task of teaching her all over again, supplemented by many extra lessons.

Mabel baulked at first, having never had to apply her mind or develop motivation. She’d been told so many times she was a failure—what else was there to look forward to? Eight years later, she is scoring 70-80% in most of her subjects, plans to be a writer (just like me!) and is an amazingly well-adjusted, charming, sunny-tempered young lady with a delightful sense of humour. She is a credit to her mother, Josephine, and to me, her Paper Mom (as she calls me, since I am legally her ‘mom’ on paper). I adopted Mabel in February 2009 at the specific request of both her parents, since they believe that with me she will “have a real life.” Those are her mother’s words, one of the bravest women I have ever known, for who else but a brave and unselfish woman would willingly give her child to someone else for that child’s sake. Mabel has a bright future and I am proud to be part of it.

by Gina Jacobson, a mom, a leo.   She works for a  non-profit organisation, is a procrastinator, loves sci-fi, sushi, good books and scrabble.Her blog is made up of A Bit of This a Bit of That.

Last year for Mother’s day we were supposed to go to the Johannesburg Zoo for the Mother’s Day concert with my mother-in-law (MIL) and then onto a braai with my mom, the weather wasn’t great and we landed up having breakfast in Melville with my MIL and then went to my mom.  It turned out ok.

This year…

This year my MIL informed us that she was going to the Mother’s Day at the zoo whether we came with or not, that is what she wanted to do.  She said to me that my mother was invited as well, as there was no reason why we can’t all celebrate together.

I spoke to my mom and, as expected, she didn’t want to go to the concert.  I asked her if she wanted to do tea that afternoon or dinner that evening, I also explained that we had a birthday party for a friend of Aaron’s in the morning and she was very non-committal.

Later she sent me a message saying that she was upset that we were putting my MIL first.  I told her that we were not, that I gave her two alternatives for us to celebrate and that she brushed me off.  To date we still haven’t made an arrangement with my mother.

I almost feel like cancelling the whole day altogether.  What about me?  I’m a mother too!  What about what I want to do?  I’m sure the concert will be lovely, I’m sure that tea or dinner with my mother will be great too.  But what about me and my little family, when do we get to celebrate?

The whole thing has soured Mother’s Day for me this year and I really just don’t feel like participating.

Am I being overly sensitive?  Should I just forget the whole thing or get over myself and try and enjoy the day?  How do you deal with Mother’s Day when there are mommies and grannies and even great grannies involved?

by Vanessa Banton who is trying to juggle procrastination with being a single mom to one, and working. She is also trying to complete her masters but that is another story. You can find her on twitter @Zephilla.

My 8-year-old daughter is like a tiny bird. We spend hours searching for a pair of jeans for her, because the size 8-9 just slips down her hips, into a pile on the floor. Unless  I wrap her up in a belt. Normally we have to make do with size 7-8 jeans, and just hope the length will hold out for the season. She still has a skirt (size 4-5) that fits perfectly.

So, I was horrified one morning while dressing Lenore for school when she told me she wasn’t wearing her jacket because it made her look fat. I have never told her she is a big girl, or said anything about her weight. Maybe, the one thing I have done is tell her she’s skinny. And while, I am not a big person myself, weight has always played a big role in my life. I was in a boarding school, where many of the girls were either anorexic or bulimic. I understand the damage one’s self esteem can have on the body. I have even lectured a class, looked at the impact media has had on the psyche of teenage girls post apartheid, and how being thin is  equated with success. Our children, in this age of satellite television, are certainly more exposed to star role models, like Hannah Montana, than I was growing-up.

I decided to discuss the issue with my psychologist. She asked me if my child was eating normally, which she does and if I had explored the issue further with her. Why did she think the jacket made her look fat?

Lenore and I sat down and spoke about it for a while. Turns out Lenore prefers the silhouetted look, rather than shapeless. She did not like wearing the jacket, because she felt it made her look bulky. So I’ve learnt that instead of reacting to things on the level I know, I should rather engage  with my kid, and try to understand where she’s coming from.

by Joy Robyn Dembo, married, with an 18 year old son and a 25 year old daughter.  Addicted to the www, particularly Twitter. Recruitment Response Handling Consultant and Freelance Copywriter, vegetarian and animal lover.  Here’s her blog.

For about a year I suspected that my son smoked. His clothes often smelled of smoke and I found cigarettes and lighters in his pockets, from time to time.

But, when I asked him about it, he always replied that he had been with people who were smoking and/or one of his friends had asked him to hang on to his cigarettes and he had forgotten to give them back.  For a while I believed him, but those nagging suspicions kept returning.

To be honest, I would rather he didn’t smoke as he is damaging his lungs, but he is 18 and, I feel I cannot forbid him from smoking at this age.  So, the real issue was whether he was lying to me, not whether he was smoking.  But, since it wasn’t high priority I didn’t devote too much time to worrying about it.

Anyway, about 2 months ago, I found a packet of cigarettes and a lighter in his bag when he came home from one of his chef practical shifts.  I was looking for his apron, when I cam across the pack.  Now I knew for certain that he smoked.  So, I challenged him, and realising he had really been caught red handed, he confessed.

My hubby made a bit of an issue of it, but I just reminded him that he was screwing up his health and left it at that.

I think he was relieved that it was out in the open and that he could smoke in the garden at home, when he felt like it.

He isn’t a heavy smoker, but as anyone who has smoked knows, when the craving hits, you can climb the walls if you don’t have any cigs.  So, when he had to use his last R100-00 to retrieve his cell phone after it was confiscated by a teacher, when it rang in class, he was very agitated because he had no money for cigarettes.

Seeing how uptight he was, and understanding how he felt since I was a smoker myself many, many years ago, I was faced with a terrible dilemma.  Do I buy him a pack, and feel guilty because I am aiding and abetting him in destroying his lungs or do I let him suffer and feel guilty because he is suffering?  A no win situation, indeed!

Eventually, I bought him a pack of 10, but didn’t give them to him right away. I was waiting to see how he reacted when I fetched him from college.  Not having smokes for about 48 hours was taking its toll on him, and he begged me to lend him some money to buy cigarettes.  After trying to talk him out of smoking all the way home, I eventually gave in and gave him the pack.  His eyes lit up and he hugged me and thanked me repeatedly.

Did I do the right thing?  I would be interested to hear what other moms and dads think.

by Laura Allmayer,   co-founder of Journey2Joy, mom to two little people, compulsive blogger and twitter addict. When she’s not blogging  she’s plan baby showers and helping moms prepare for their new babies. And all the in between time is spent attending kiddies parties, fighting for alone time with her boyfriend and eating too many jelly beans!

My daughter is busy doing “family” at school. So we chatted over dinner the other night about what family is.

 When I asked her who is in her family she replied, me, her dad, her brother, her gran and oupa. 

Which may sound normal but her father and I have been divorced for 4 years and both him and I now have new partners.

David and I have been together for 8 months and he is very much a part of our daily life. Their father has been with his girlfriend for 2/3 years already.

 When I asked her are they not also part of our family, she was adamant that they are not because we are not married. So to her family is defined by marriage. She acknowledges both David and their dads girlfriend as part of our lives but to her they are not family.

I am in two minds about her definition. While I am glad she still believes in the notion of marriage and family in the true sense of the word, even after everything they have been through, I also want them to learn that family can come in many forms. I have many friends who I consider more my family than cousins and aunts.

In today’s changing world the notion of family has really evolved and morphed into something that barely resembles the white picket fence and 2.5 kids and a dog named Rover. We have same sex parents, we have women willingly becoming single parents, we have a growing number of single parents, which increases the number of blended homes. In South Africa we have child led family’s, we have grans and aunts raising children.

Schools also need to start taking this into account and when they send a family tree to be completed there needs to maybe be blank and not necessarily the traditional “mom” and “dad” boxes that they currently have!

 My definition of a family is all those people involved in my daily life. Those people I depend on, who help me through the tough times and who I know will love me no matter what!

What does family mean to you?

by Madeleine Kriegler, a working mom of two and always learning to learn. She blogs about anything that takes her fancy on her blog, Life Love and everything else

This book was recommended to me by my daughters’ therapist. It  promises that you will learn more about your child’s unique nature and how to adapt your parenting style to it. It covers issue such as: why punishment works for one child but not for the other, how to focus your limited time and energy accurately by giving child-specific parental input, how to speak your child’s language so that you really understand each other and the right way to handle your child’s emotions, needs and achievements, so that she will be a child with character.

You read about 4 different personalities, with their own characteristics. It has a checklist which you work through for both your child and yourself in order for you to determine the best way to handle your child given your own strengths and weaknesses. I found the checklist of characteristics initially difficult to work through, and it was only once I read through my daughter’s personality “handbook” that I could identify her more easily. I had to go back to reassess her before I found a good fit. Having said that I still don’t fully agree with the description of the characteristics of her “type”, but I have a feeling it’s my interpretation of the words, rather than the writers’ presentation.

The book is written with a strong religious slant which might be off-putting to some. The writer summarizes for each personality how God spoke to that person.

What alarmed me was that the writer is pro-spanking and justifies this with bible verses.  It was printed in 2008,which makes her suggestions unlawful as per the Children’s Amendment bill promulgated in 2007. She does offer alternatives to spanking though, as well as point out that for some personalities spanking is the least effective disciplining method.

Despite this I would still recommend this book as it is the only parenting book that I am aware of that incorporates both you and your child’s personalities and how to work with it. It  offers some great insights as to how to treat each person in the family with love and understanding.

by Kerry Haggard is mom to the two most beautiful boys that ever there were. She’s a writer, editor and a wannabe organic vegetable farmer. She’s also a redhead, and recently realised that she has the temper to go with that. Follow her on Twitter: @KerryHaggard

This morning was an early one – up at 5h00, with both boys wanting different things, from Easter eggs to Cbeebies. I’m comfortable with the TV as my (very happy) helper at that time of the morning, and with boys settled in front of Mr Maker, I snuck off to check mail on my computer in the next room.

And that’s where things started going pear-shaped. Both boys came through, both wanting to sit on the one spare seat, and then Daniel (the older one) wanted to watch YouTube (which he can surf by himself), a Thomas the Tank Engine video, and then he asked for his own computer games (which are not set up at the moment) – all in the space of about 30 seconds. He responded to my ‘no, not now’ answers to all of those by stomping his feet, shouting at me and throwing a basketful of Lego in all directions. Not a normal reaction for this mostly peaceful boy – but a reaction that made me see red, and lose the 5h30 plot a little.

I smacked his pyjama’d bottom, told him that he is not allowed to throw things at me, and told him to go to his room. When he sat there apologising in tears, I thought of all those experts that tell us to be consistent and mean what we say, and I insisted that he go to his room, eventually resorting to carrying him there to prove my point.

And then I stopped and thought about it (which I probably should have done before the part where I saw red). This whole scene started because both my little boys wanted to be with me, and Daniel particularly wanted my attention. When he didn’t get it in the way that he was hoping for, he got frustrated, and angry. Which made me angry. But why am I allowed to get angry, and he is not? If he is allowed to get angry (which I believe he is), just how do I teach him how to express that anger? And how do I control my own emotions when I am frustrated (at being up at the crack of dawn) myself, and just want a little bit of space?

I know I am the adult in this, and I know it is my job to teach him how to deal with his feelings in a constructive way.

But I don’t think I did a very good job of teaching him, or setting a good example, this morning. How do other parents deal with their little ones’ frustration?

*A note: This is only the third time in his nearly five years that I have smacked Daniel on his bottom. I believe that there is a time and a place for a smack on the bottom, but never with anything other than my hand, and more for effect than injury. I don’t think that his actions this morning deserved my response, which is why I’m disturbed by it, and would love to how other parents deal with this type of situation.

by Kojo Baffoe a man, a father, a son, a brother, a husband, a friend, a poet, a writer on a quest to make sense of this reality, with words. Author of Evolutionary

From the time Kweku was born, I was the one who would generally wake up in the middle of the night to feed him. He was born quite big and, from day one, was on a breast-bottle combo diet. He would have bottle at night and that was my responsibility, so I spent many a night with him awake. When we moved him from our bed to his cot, he slept on my side of the bed so when he woke up, I was closest, and would wake up. In those early days, he seemed to be more about Daddy although there were times when only Mommy could calm him down, as it should be.

We spent many an afternoon with him lying on my chest snoozing while I watched football. We would chill watching music videos or dancing around the room to music, which he loves. He loves the car so we would go on daddy-son drives, the soundtrack varied, depending on the mood and the intention. Bath and bedtime has also always been our time. We are collecting Dr Seuss books and each night would end with my reading him a ‘stoly’ to sleep. It was daddy-time all the time.

This lasted till around his second birthday. The shift was gradual. One of those things that creeps up on you and, before you know it, the universe as you know it has changed. The whole world has become about mommy. Sometimes he just walks around the house repeating ‘mommy’ like a scratched record (for the old school out there). When he wakes up in the middle of the night and comes to our room, he goes to mommy’s side. When he wants to go for a drive, it is in mommy’s car that he wants to ride. Bath. Food. Water. TV. Play. Everything needs mommy to be there. As he starts to speak more, he also verbalises a lot clearer. I am told, at least 10 times a day, that I should call mommy to come help him. He generally doesn’t want me to participate in most things, unless mommy isn’t around.

It has been unbalancing. To go from the centre of your child’s universe to the fringes can be confusing. I have read the various writings and went through an ‘inner child’ workshop that unpacked the various phases we go through as child, and know that things will swing back my way eventually. That doesn’t make it any easier.

We still have our moments and our time together but I am learning to gradually accept that, right now, my son is a mommy’s boy. I am still daddy. That will never change. There will be times when he wants daddy to fix things, but mommy is his guardian angel. This too will never change.

 by Heather Dodd, architect, eco-worrier and mother of  4yr old Kate,  an enthusiastic tree pruner and possible vet.

 A few weekends ago we went to the Johannesburg Zoo and fed White Stinkwood Tree cuttings to the Giraffes – they love it – they actually start salivating as they see the trailer coming towards them (makes you feel quite important – driving your own car through the Zoo !) This time they let us climb over the fence and get right up close.

 This is a very special thing that we’ve been doing with our 4  yr old daughter, Kate over the past year. We saw an appeal from the Zoo for tree cuttings. The giraffes and elephants ( Ellies) at the Zoo require fresh cuttings from indigenous trees (Acacia /Rus / White Stinkwood) and we have some of these trees in our garden.

 We have been about 4 times. 3 to the giraffes and once to the elephants.  We take our trailer to the Zoo with the cuttings and go with the man in charge of feeding – Patrick to give the cuttings to the animals.

 Now Kate is a very enthusiastic tree pruner.

So for all you afro optimists – where else can you do this ?