This past weekend has been a weekend best forgotten..... I don't think I have ever experienced anything like it. Not only was it a battle of the wills between my sons and I, but between Vodacom and I too!
My husband went away to some lodge in the bushveld with business visitors from America. Now, I've been alone with the boys before, so I wasn't worried and was sure I could handle two days with them. It would be a piece of cake. After all, they are 14, 17 and 19 respectively and I am 43. ( I should have taken their collective age into acount! 50 years of joint experience beats 43, believe you me!)
But all that aside, the worst of the weekend was my issue with Vodacom. Since Saturday morning, I had not been receiving calls on my Blackberry. I can make calls, but I have no Facebook, no Twitter, and I cannot receive calls. I heard rumours that Vodacom was experiencing problems so I thought I would give them until Sunday. Dennis tried to call me from the lodge but had no luck, and had to contact me using one of the boys phones.
On Sunday afternoon, after struggling with the IDOLS reception on our decoder (had to rescan every 4 minutes - no exageration - and this was the final for crying in a bucket!!!!!! I decided to call Vodacom and give them a piece of my mind:
I'm going to skip the: If you would like to sim-swop, buy a donkie, eat a giraffe, select 1 nonsense and get down to the nitty gritty:
"Hello, thank you for calling Vodacom, my name is Beauty, how can I help you?" How can she be so up beat on a freaking Sunday afternoon?
"My name is Deidre and I would like to lodge a complaint about Vodacom's service"
"Certainly, Deidre. What is your number?"
I give it to her in monosylables
"0.....8......2......5......6.......6....... the impatience dripping from each number.......4......6"
"And in which area do you reside? Thank you Deidre, one minute please."
Why not, I've been waiting the whole weekend.
"I'm sorry, Deidre, but I'm not picking up any service or network problems in that area."
"Well, I'm telling you now. I've had NO service fromVodacom this entire weekend. My husband is somewhere in the bush and he can't even reach me. What if I had an emergency? What if I needed to call someone? What then, hey? What then?"
"Deidre, I'll lodge your call and send you an sms confirming the reference number. Someone will call you back within 24 hours."
"They better, or I will take this further!"
While still stewing on the couch about the unfairness of the universe - first Vodacom and then MNET - I get a call on my cell. Typical. Now that I've lodged the complaint and after telling me there is nothing wrong with the network, now all of a sudden I get a call. It's Dennis.
"Hi Deidre, why are you answering this number?"
"........ because it's my phone?"
"No, I didn't call your phone. I called the spare phone."
"What do you mean you called the spare phone. This is my phone."
The penny starts it downward tumble.....
"Then you've got the spare phones sim in your phone....."
"I've got the spare phone's sim in my phone....." I look up and at the three boys sitting around the table. Each ones face is the picture of innocence.
My tirade with Vodacom plays through my mind.....
"Sorry Mom. We put the spare phones sim in your phone because it had Dene's number on it and we wanted to call her to find out what time the party started..........."
I just hope that Vodacom isn't efficient enough to phone me today, because I don't know what I'm going to say....... except 'sorry?'
Goldfish with Fin
Sharks in my Fish Tank
Monday, November 1, 2010
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Honesty.... Is it always the right policy?
I have taught my children from a very young age to be painfully honest. And believe me sometimes it is very painful when they are honest. When children are young, they haven't learnt the intricacies of honesty yet. They don't know when to coat the honesty with a bit of honey so as not to hurt ones feelings. They also don't know when to rather keep quiet (also a form of honesty) instead of saying something that would anger the other person. What do you do in such cases? When I try to explain it to my boys, they feel that they would be lying if they did not speak the honest truth. And at this stage of their lives, they can't keep quiet either. So I have taught them to apologise too.
Dylan is brutally honest. He says things as they are and feels he has done the world a great service by enlightening the person in error. Example? Dylan joined his father in visiting his grandparents last week. Being Dylan, he went to the kitchen and poured himself some cold drink. His grandfather walked into the lounge and said: " I see you drink alone?" "No," Dylan answered. "I've finished my drink." His grandfather flew into a rage and Dylan's dad told him to pour his grandfather some cold drink too,to which Dylan answered: "I won't if he hints. I will if he asks me." Disrespectful? Maybe, but why hint for something if you can just ask? I know Dylan. If asked, he will do anything for you.
Divan is another example of a very honest child. If Divan has done something, e.g. broken a window, he will tell you that he did it. If you ask him if he learnt for a test he failed, he will tell you he didn't. He completed aptitude tests at school two weeks ago and was asked to complete some questions honestly. Which he did. Which is why we were called in. It turns out he is just a normal Grade 9 pupil, but with a completely different take on things. While we were there, he was asked to do a small test. Questions which are set up in such a way to trip you. I just had to smile at one of his answers.
Question: a man is building a structure. It is south facing. The sun is shining from right above. A bear walks past behind the structure. What colour is the bear?
Answer: Can't see the bear. It is behind the structure.
Moral of the story: ask a stupid question. You get a stupid answer.
Dennis Jnr is getting older now and coats his honest answers with bottles full of honey! So much so that he just opens his mouth to change feet. I think the best solution for him is to keep quiet....... or apologise frequently.
One thing I have learnt with my three children, is never to take something at face value. Honesty is not as simple as it is made out to be.
Dylan is brutally honest. He says things as they are and feels he has done the world a great service by enlightening the person in error. Example? Dylan joined his father in visiting his grandparents last week. Being Dylan, he went to the kitchen and poured himself some cold drink. His grandfather walked into the lounge and said: " I see you drink alone?" "No," Dylan answered. "I've finished my drink." His grandfather flew into a rage and Dylan's dad told him to pour his grandfather some cold drink too,to which Dylan answered: "I won't if he hints. I will if he asks me." Disrespectful? Maybe, but why hint for something if you can just ask? I know Dylan. If asked, he will do anything for you.
Divan is another example of a very honest child. If Divan has done something, e.g. broken a window, he will tell you that he did it. If you ask him if he learnt for a test he failed, he will tell you he didn't. He completed aptitude tests at school two weeks ago and was asked to complete some questions honestly. Which he did. Which is why we were called in. It turns out he is just a normal Grade 9 pupil, but with a completely different take on things. While we were there, he was asked to do a small test. Questions which are set up in such a way to trip you. I just had to smile at one of his answers.
Question: a man is building a structure. It is south facing. The sun is shining from right above. A bear walks past behind the structure. What colour is the bear?
Answer: Can't see the bear. It is behind the structure.
Moral of the story: ask a stupid question. You get a stupid answer.
Dennis Jnr is getting older now and coats his honest answers with bottles full of honey! So much so that he just opens his mouth to change feet. I think the best solution for him is to keep quiet....... or apologise frequently.
One thing I have learnt with my three children, is never to take something at face value. Honesty is not as simple as it is made out to be.
Friday, September 10, 2010
Psychopathic Missionary?
You know how you say that you will remember the little jewels your children say when they are young and then years later they are forgotten? I was thinking about Dylan being in matric next year and the choices we need to make regarding universities etc. That's when I remembered two special conversation I had with Dylan. Dylan could not make up his mind what he wanted to do with his life when he left school.... I was actually becoming rather worried because he had to choose subjects in Grade 10 and had no clue what to take.
I was standing in the kitchen when he came up to me and leaning against the counter, said to me: "Mom, I want to become a missionary." What do you say to that? Wow. This is major. Your heart swells and your eyes tear up and you say something like: "Are you sure?" "Yes, mom. My friends and I have discussed this." "Your friends?" I say. Now I know Dylan's friends and not one of them is missionary material! "Yes, we've decided to become missionaries in Iran." "Iran?????" "Yes, Iran. They pay well." Now I started becoming a little concerned..... "But Dylan, missionaries don't get paid..... they work because its their passion." "No, they will supply the guns, and we will work for a few months and earn lots of dollars...."
"Dylan." I said "That's a mercenary!"
A few months later he came to me and stated that he has thought long and hard and has finally decided what he wants to do with his life..... He is going to become a psychopath! "Dylan, those are born, you don't need to study to become one!" He actually meant a psychologist... and that's what his aim is. A psychologist majoring in music therapy....
Why? Because he wants to help people. My strong silent one, with a passion for people and the need for a thesaurus.
I was standing in the kitchen when he came up to me and leaning against the counter, said to me: "Mom, I want to become a missionary." What do you say to that? Wow. This is major. Your heart swells and your eyes tear up and you say something like: "Are you sure?" "Yes, mom. My friends and I have discussed this." "Your friends?" I say. Now I know Dylan's friends and not one of them is missionary material! "Yes, we've decided to become missionaries in Iran." "Iran?????" "Yes, Iran. They pay well." Now I started becoming a little concerned..... "But Dylan, missionaries don't get paid..... they work because its their passion." "No, they will supply the guns, and we will work for a few months and earn lots of dollars...."
"Dylan." I said "That's a mercenary!"
A few months later he came to me and stated that he has thought long and hard and has finally decided what he wants to do with his life..... He is going to become a psychopath! "Dylan, those are born, you don't need to study to become one!" He actually meant a psychologist... and that's what his aim is. A psychologist majoring in music therapy....
Why? Because he wants to help people. My strong silent one, with a passion for people and the need for a thesaurus.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
If only raising kids was that easy......
I've often wondered why I wasn't supplied with a 'how to' guide when my children were born. I thought that I really would have been better off if I could turn to page 3565 to see how to handle sulking (yeah I reckon any book on child rearing worth its salt will be more than 400 pages long!)
But now that I am older and more experienced I know why they didn't give me a book - because the information would be out of date within a week of publishing it! Am I the only one who finds that what worked last week has absolutely no effect this week?
I have a situation now with Divan where he wants to change schools. Looking at the situation there are a few pros and a few cons. (Being an A type personality, I have made my list.....) The pros being: Its closer for me to drop him off; he won't have the same teacher Dennis Jnr had and therefore not the same issues as we experienced last year with art; it might be better for him sport wise. The cons: I don't think it would be better socially for him (although he says that ALL his friends are in the new school); I don't want to move Dylan because he is in matric next year and I don't want two children in two different schools.
But I understand that at his age, this is an important decision and he thinks his arguments are valid and noteworthy. But I wonder if he understands that making this decision, for me, is not such an easy one. I am not thinking about the next two months when I make this decision. I am thinking how this decision, which is up to me to make, will influence him in twenty years to come. I undertook an oath to bring him up in God's ways, to guide him, protect him, and do what is best for him. I cannot make this decision based on whether he will be happy with me or not. I cannot make this decision based on his short term 'happy' factors. I need to make this decision on whether or not it will be beneficial to him in the long run.
And the same goes for Dylan. He has wanted to go to this other school for four years now and each time I have had to weigh the pros and cons. I don't want them to come back to me in ten years time and say, you know what, why did you listen to me? It was a spur of the moment decision. They might not see the big picture now, but I do. And I need to do what I feel is right. For them.
But now that I am older and more experienced I know why they didn't give me a book - because the information would be out of date within a week of publishing it! Am I the only one who finds that what worked last week has absolutely no effect this week?
I have a situation now with Divan where he wants to change schools. Looking at the situation there are a few pros and a few cons. (Being an A type personality, I have made my list.....) The pros being: Its closer for me to drop him off; he won't have the same teacher Dennis Jnr had and therefore not the same issues as we experienced last year with art; it might be better for him sport wise. The cons: I don't think it would be better socially for him (although he says that ALL his friends are in the new school); I don't want to move Dylan because he is in matric next year and I don't want two children in two different schools.
But I understand that at his age, this is an important decision and he thinks his arguments are valid and noteworthy. But I wonder if he understands that making this decision, for me, is not such an easy one. I am not thinking about the next two months when I make this decision. I am thinking how this decision, which is up to me to make, will influence him in twenty years to come. I undertook an oath to bring him up in God's ways, to guide him, protect him, and do what is best for him. I cannot make this decision based on whether he will be happy with me or not. I cannot make this decision based on his short term 'happy' factors. I need to make this decision on whether or not it will be beneficial to him in the long run.
And the same goes for Dylan. He has wanted to go to this other school for four years now and each time I have had to weigh the pros and cons. I don't want them to come back to me in ten years time and say, you know what, why did you listen to me? It was a spur of the moment decision. They might not see the big picture now, but I do. And I need to do what I feel is right. For them.
Friday, September 3, 2010
Mom, what's a cougar?
As all mothers know, the safety of ones children is of utmost importance. When the boys were younger, that concern was that they wouldn't hurt themselves riding their bikes, or kill each other with a cricket bat.... I also watched them like a hawk when shopping for fear of them being kidnapped...... not that the kidnapper would keep them very long. At that age I sometimes wanted to give them away....... :) But with time, the fears decreased, they started being able to stand up for themselves, and now that they stand a good foot taller than me, I feel more at ease that they will be able to look after themselves..... felt at ease, until Divan came home with a question: "Mom, what is a cougar?"
I stopped mid step. "A what?" I asked. "A cougar....." Searching his face for that naughty twinkle in his eyes, I realised he was dead serious.
"Well, a cougar is an older woman who dates younger men." Stunned silence.
"They are usually MUCH older than the guys. We used to say that the guys were the woman's 'toy boy'."
Stunned silence.
"Young guys must be very careful because older women sometimes prey on these younger guys and if the guys aren't careful they can get hurt"
"Why do you ask?"
"Because there are a lot of Grade 8 girls who like me, and I don't want to be a cougar!"
No fear of that......
I stopped mid step. "A what?" I asked. "A cougar....." Searching his face for that naughty twinkle in his eyes, I realised he was dead serious.
"Well, a cougar is an older woman who dates younger men." Stunned silence.
"They are usually MUCH older than the guys. We used to say that the guys were the woman's 'toy boy'."
Stunned silence.
"Young guys must be very careful because older women sometimes prey on these younger guys and if the guys aren't careful they can get hurt"
"Why do you ask?"
"Because there are a lot of Grade 8 girls who like me, and I don't want to be a cougar!"
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Plasters don't heal everything!
When my sons were small and got hurt, my heart would break when I saw the tears run down their grubby faces leaving stark lines over their cheeks. But I could pick them up, dust them down and kiss their 'eina' better. A plaster, an oxo sandwich and a hug could sort out all kinds of problems....
But now that they are older, its not so easy anymore. I see my son come home, head bowed, shoulders slumped and I know - as only a mother can - that something is wrong. I am certain that his red and watery eyes mean he has been crying - and not a hayfever attack. But he won't let me in. I know that if I question him, he will build the wall around him even higher. And I feel if I don't, he might feel that I don't care.
How do I fix this 'eina' if I don't even know what caused it - do I need a tweezer to pull a splinter out? Or do I need a cream to soothe a grass burn?
I am angry that someone or something has hurt my son, and powerless to do anything about it.
But I'm here, my boy. Even though you don't want to talk about it, just know that I am here and when you feel better, I will know because your special smile will spread over your face again, and the twinkle will be back in your eyes and everything will be allright again.....
I love you!
But now that they are older, its not so easy anymore. I see my son come home, head bowed, shoulders slumped and I know - as only a mother can - that something is wrong. I am certain that his red and watery eyes mean he has been crying - and not a hayfever attack. But he won't let me in. I know that if I question him, he will build the wall around him even higher. And I feel if I don't, he might feel that I don't care.
How do I fix this 'eina' if I don't even know what caused it - do I need a tweezer to pull a splinter out? Or do I need a cream to soothe a grass burn?
I am angry that someone or something has hurt my son, and powerless to do anything about it.
But I'm here, my boy. Even though you don't want to talk about it, just know that I am here and when you feel better, I will know because your special smile will spread over your face again, and the twinkle will be back in your eyes and everything will be allright again.....
I love you!
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
A Mother's Heart....
Sometimes you are so caught up in the day to day running of your home and your kids that you forget to take stock of what you have. You are programmed to start the day with waking the boys, waking them for a second time and maybe a third. Being the referee when one of them is soaking in the shower and the others need to shave. One tends to sift through the negative emotions: worry, fear. At times you feel like you are the only one looking out for the others who are singular planets revolving around their own axis..... and then something happens and you are pleasantly surprised.
It was freezing cold yesterday and I was looking forward to relaxing in a hot bath with a magazine as soon as I got home. I collected Dylan from school and drove home in silence as he was engrossed in Mixit and having a conversation with Mom is 'kinda wierd..."
As I was thawing in the hot tub, the light went out. "Typical" I thought. "Just like Eskom to cut the power when its so cold". My thoughts were interrupted by Dylan knocking on the door. "Mom, the washing machines' hose has shot off the fitting and its spraying water all over the kitchen!"
Great! As quick as I could I finished my bath, dressed and got ready to salvage what I could in the kitchen and start with cleaning up operations. Walking down the passage I was met with a small rivulet making its way down from the entrance hall - and then I saw him..... Dylan, with a PT short on, bare legged, with his long sleeve school shirt, Pullover and tie, mopping up the kitchen floor. "It's ok Mom, I've got it."
And then I realise what precious children I have and what an honour it is for me to look after them, guide them and treasure them.
I am blessed!
It was freezing cold yesterday and I was looking forward to relaxing in a hot bath with a magazine as soon as I got home. I collected Dylan from school and drove home in silence as he was engrossed in Mixit and having a conversation with Mom is 'kinda wierd..."
As I was thawing in the hot tub, the light went out. "Typical" I thought. "Just like Eskom to cut the power when its so cold". My thoughts were interrupted by Dylan knocking on the door. "Mom, the washing machines' hose has shot off the fitting and its spraying water all over the kitchen!"
Great! As quick as I could I finished my bath, dressed and got ready to salvage what I could in the kitchen and start with cleaning up operations. Walking down the passage I was met with a small rivulet making its way down from the entrance hall - and then I saw him..... Dylan, with a PT short on, bare legged, with his long sleeve school shirt, Pullover and tie, mopping up the kitchen floor. "It's ok Mom, I've got it."
And then I realise what precious children I have and what an honour it is for me to look after them, guide them and treasure them.
I am blessed!
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Haircuts......
The school my sons attend has "changed" the hair rules. I don't really see any difference, but the boys are ecstatic. I have been their one and only hairstylist since Grade 1 and last night I was informed that their hair needs to be cut by today or they will be sent home. (I would have thought they would rather like that option(?)).
Divan has a head of hair as thick as a carpet.... and it curls. He brought the hairstyling kit, the chair and the comb and as he sat down he gave me a picture. "What's this?" I asked. "That's how I want my hair cut." Now bear in mind that I have NEVER had any training in hairstyling. But my boys reckon that I can do anything if I apply my mind to it...... So I put the picture down next to me and proceeded to cut his hair. (I must confess that that was the last time I actually looked at it.....) He is pretty happy with it, thinks it looks just like the picture. :)
Dylan is another kettle of fish. His hair is his pride and joy. He has thin hair which falls through the comb when you try to cut it. He also sat down and started with his list of instructions...... the fringe must be shorter, but cut about 2cm above the right eye and ending about 1/2 a cm above the left eye (Yes, SKEW). The fringe must be separated into a top fringe and a bottom fringe. The top fringe must be longer than the bottom fringe. The rest of the hair on his head must be cut to the same length so he doesn't look like a mushroom! So I take this scissors and say: " OK, so this is the top fringe" and I put a clip in it to keep it off the 'bottom' fringe. "And this all needs to be the same length?" "And how do you want the back?" Great!! And then I do what I want - and he loves it!
I have found that the best way to get along with your kids is to make them think that you are doing what they want you to do - and then you do what you actually wanted to do from the beginning. (Works on husbands too!)
They both went off to school this morning extemely chuffed with their hair - and I have peace of mind that I won't be called to fetch them at 10h00 when I am enjoying my tea!
Divan has a head of hair as thick as a carpet.... and it curls. He brought the hairstyling kit, the chair and the comb and as he sat down he gave me a picture. "What's this?" I asked. "That's how I want my hair cut." Now bear in mind that I have NEVER had any training in hairstyling. But my boys reckon that I can do anything if I apply my mind to it...... So I put the picture down next to me and proceeded to cut his hair. (I must confess that that was the last time I actually looked at it.....) He is pretty happy with it, thinks it looks just like the picture. :)
Dylan is another kettle of fish. His hair is his pride and joy. He has thin hair which falls through the comb when you try to cut it. He also sat down and started with his list of instructions...... the fringe must be shorter, but cut about 2cm above the right eye and ending about 1/2 a cm above the left eye (Yes, SKEW). The fringe must be separated into a top fringe and a bottom fringe. The top fringe must be longer than the bottom fringe. The rest of the hair on his head must be cut to the same length so he doesn't look like a mushroom! So I take this scissors and say: " OK, so this is the top fringe" and I put a clip in it to keep it off the 'bottom' fringe. "And this all needs to be the same length?" "And how do you want the back?" Great!! And then I do what I want - and he loves it!
I have found that the best way to get along with your kids is to make them think that you are doing what they want you to do - and then you do what you actually wanted to do from the beginning. (Works on husbands too!)
They both went off to school this morning extemely chuffed with their hair - and I have peace of mind that I won't be called to fetch them at 10h00 when I am enjoying my tea!
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Introduction
This blog has been started as a type of therapy for a working mother to three teenage boys.... Hopefully I will be able to work through hormonal temper tantrums, (My 14 year old has never outgrown the terrible twos!) Find the meaning to words like 'douch bag (?)' and, mainly, to survive this challenging period in my life.
Don't get me wrong, I love all three of my sons dearly. They are an essential part of me and I could not imagine life without them....
I will be blogging daily with my experiences of the day with each of them: Dennis (Jnr); Dylan and Divan.
Let me introduce them to you....
Dennis:
My 19 year old. He is a first year student studying Multi Media. My artist. He has just obtained his drivers licence and is my right hand man.
Dylan:
My electric guitar, rock enthusiast 17 year old. He is currently in Grade 11 and his ambition is to be a psychiatrist specialising in music therapy. The silent one, he has great compassion for people in need.
Divan:
My hyperactive, exciting, unpredictable 13 year old. He is in Grade 9 and is an avid athlete playing 1st team hockey, taking part in athletics, rugby, cricket - you name it he does it....
Join me while I go through this therapeutic process. I assure you you'll get a kick out of the Sharks in my Fishtank.
Don't get me wrong, I love all three of my sons dearly. They are an essential part of me and I could not imagine life without them....
I will be blogging daily with my experiences of the day with each of them: Dennis (Jnr); Dylan and Divan.
Let me introduce them to you....
Dennis:
My 19 year old. He is a first year student studying Multi Media. My artist. He has just obtained his drivers licence and is my right hand man.
Dylan:
My electric guitar, rock enthusiast 17 year old. He is currently in Grade 11 and his ambition is to be a psychiatrist specialising in music therapy. The silent one, he has great compassion for people in need.
Divan:
My hyperactive, exciting, unpredictable 13 year old. He is in Grade 9 and is an avid athlete playing 1st team hockey, taking part in athletics, rugby, cricket - you name it he does it....
Join me while I go through this therapeutic process. I assure you you'll get a kick out of the Sharks in my Fishtank.
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