Crowd surfing

One of the most difficult things for me as a parent is to keep calm when Dylan goes to a club with his friends.  I try very hard not to give him the third degree, but I'm afraid I can make Devi from Carte Blance look tame.  I need to know where he is going, with whom is he going, is he going to drink, how much does he think he is going to drink, does he know he can't have more than one beer if he is going to drive home, promise he will phone me to fetch him if he has more than one beer.

But I do this because I love him, and I want to protect him.

On Saturday Dylan and I were home alone.  We were watching a program on TV when the Pepsi ad aired showing the 3 guys crowd surfing towards the Pepsi fridge.

"We did that last night" Dylan says, pointing at the TV
"That's rather dangerous." I say, thinking how they could possibly fit so many people into the club....
"There weren't too many people there." Dylan explains
"That's even more dangerous, what if they dropped you?"
"Nah, we took one guy and three of us carried him lying down above us, round the club.....crowd surfing"

This after they had '1' beer......  I have no words........

Whatsis name.....

Today is 5 November.  Guy Fawkes Day. 
Last year my two dogs were frightened beyond belief by the fireworks in our suburb.  The fox terrier started climbing through the bedroom windows, pulling himself through the burglar bars.  The Chow was hyperventilating.

This year, I decided to ask our vet for medicine which would sedate the dogs so that the fireworks would not affect them too badly.  At 18h30 this evening, I measured just less than a capsule of the drug, mixed it with cheese and fed it to them.  By 19h00 I could see that it was taking effect - they were calm and just wanted to sleep - but I was worried that they would stumble into the swimming pool.

Dylan said that they couldn't fall into the pool.  I still have nightmares about our beautiful black labrador puppy that drowned while we were on holiday four years ago.
"Oh, yeah" Dylan says" I remember him.... What was his name?  Mbeki, Zuma...."
"Nelson, Dylan.  The puppy's name was Nelson."

The mind is willing, but the body is weak....

Dennis is trying to get a Summer League Hockey team together for the season which starts in September. As he has been out of school for over two years already, it’s not easy finding everyone who used to play hockey with him – and those he does find are not very fit.


He has asked his girlfriend, Robyn, to join his team – and Robyn, not having ever played hockey, is not very keen. She suggested to Dennis that, seeing as I played hockey and that I taught them how to play, I should be on his team as well.

Dennis looked at me, then started smiling, eventually laughing at the thought of me on his hockey team…. “I can play better hockey in my head than you ever could on the field, my boy.” I yelled after him as he started walking down the passage, “It’s just that my body can’t keep up with my mind anymore!”

A BBM conversation between my son and I

Dylan filled up my car with petrol for the first time since getting his licence. Maybe he should have paid more attention when I filled up instead of being on mixit?


• I need to fill up the car, right?
• Do I pay inside or does he bring the card machine to me?
• I need to switch off the car, right?

• Hi my boy, yes please fill up the car. They should bring the machine to you – but at the Total garage you need to pay inside. And the car needs to be switched off. Love you.
• Oh yes, please use Unleaded 93?

• I filled up with 95!! Is that ok?
• Maaaammm!!
• PING!!
• Is the car going to break????

 • No, it’s ok – just more expensive.
• Were you worried?

• Nah

Childhood Memories (2)

When the boys were 6, 4 and 2, Dennis and I decided to visit family in the Cape for our December holiday.  Everyone was very excited and couldn't wait!!  But I was just a little aprehensive as the boys were quite 'busy' at that stage. (Our next door neighbour in Springfontein, Oom Piet Marx, always said that you never get a well behaved boy. If you do, he is either sick or dead. My boys were neither sick nor dead!) 
But off we went to Cape Town merrily singing '99 bottles of coke on the wall'...... (no beer in front of the children!)
We stayed with Dennis's aunt Eunice, uncle Kobus and Great Ouma Debbie and had a wonderful holiday.  I don't know if they had such a wonderful time though, but were such great hosts that they only lavished us with love.  I do think, however, that they needed to see a therapist after we left :(
Divan hit the Cape in top form.
We were invited to supper with another Aunt and Uncle on Dennis's mother's side one evening.  On the way there I kept asking - no, begging - the boys to be on their best behaviour. This couple had beautiful furniture which you don't see often these days - antiques.... The first hour went well.... bearing in mind that there were no other children there for the boys to play with. Dennie, Dylan and Divan were lying on the carpet colouring in.  Then we were asked to take our places at the dining room table and Divan notched into top gear.....

First he took his dinky toy car and drove around and around on the antique table. I seem to have been the only one who heard the table groaning as the wheels scratched and squealed on the polished oak. "Los die kind....." then he climbed onto the couch with his shoes on, and proceeded to make his way from one end of the lounge, across each seat, side table etc. to the other side of the lounge..... smiling at me! "Divan!!" "Los die kind...."  I cannot tell you what we had for supper that evening..... I don't think I have apologised so much in my life....
When Dennis eventually said that we were leaving, I had Divan under my arm in a vice grip, his legs pinned between mine, and I swear I had the dinky toy clenched in my teeth!
In the car on the way back to Durbanville, Divan lay on my lap and looked up into my face.  His eyes were drooping and I knew he would fall asleep any minute now.  Just before his eyes closed, he looked up at me and with a small smile on his face says: "I was good tonight, wasn't I Mommy?"

Childhood memories

Sibling rivalry has always been alive and well in my household. Having three sons, I guess this is to be expected. My husband was one of four brothers and he tells me it’s quite normal for boys to fight and quarrel…. I think each of my son’s wish they were an only child!




In 1998, my husband took the decision to move to Springfontein to help his parents run the family business. It was July and Dennis and I needed to work our notice periods of a month. The school term was going to start before we had arrived in Springfontein, so we decided to send Den (6) ahead and we would move down in August.



So, that left Dylan (4) and Divan (2)…….



One Sunday afternoon, I was reading on my bed when Dylan walked in.

“Mommy, please give me a magic word…”

“Abracadabra” I said. Dylan left my room and I carried on reading.

Not long after that, Dylan was back. “Mommy, I need another magic word…”

“Siemsalabiem” and Dylan left the room again only to return a short while later.

“Mommy, do you know another one?”

“Dylan, what are you doing?” I asked.

“I’m trying to make Divan disappear but nothing is working!”

So what do I say to that?

I admire tattoo artists – any artist, but more so a tattoo artist. Their art is permanent and they really need to know their stuff because it is prominently displayed on a person’s body…. and a tattoo artist’s reputation is based on the result. It’s not so much word of mouth, but by sight.




BUT I wouldn’t like one of my sons to have a tattoo. Call me prudish, but like a good friend of mines says, when I gave birth to those little bodies they were covered in beautiful silky soft skin without blemish. And that is the way I want them to stay. Sure along the way they have gained scars from bicycle accidents, rugby and hockey mishaps etc. but those scars give character and provide tales to tell their children one day. A tattoo is a conscious act. What bugs me the most is what seems important to have tattooed on your body now, may not be important or even relevant 20 or 30 years down the road. Names of girlfriends who never turn into wives come to mind.



Divan wants a tattoo. I have changed the subject, voiced my concern, ignored him flat out – but to no avail. Eventually last night I decided to let him tell me exactly why he wanted a tattoo and what he wanted tattooed onto his perfect body.

“I want Ouma Helen’s name, her beginning date and her end date. I want it tattooed on my chest because I miss her”

My heart aches for him, but I’m just wondering whether he will look like a wall of rememberance by the age of 30 when his other grandparents have passed away and he misses them too?

Giving our children to God

I have been walking around with a heavy heart for a few days now, worrying about my sons.  I confess, it is my favourite pastime.  Am I doing enough for them, are they ok, do they need anything.  They think I'm naive, but I know when they are going through difficult times.  I know them as if I made them myself. 
At times I am overcome with anxiety about choices they make.  They seem to steer in the opposite direction to the advice I have given them. 
I subscribed to a daily devotional a while ago - Girlfriends in God.  I was waiting in anticipation for it to appear in my inbox this morning - just needed something to let me know I'm on the right track, or off it..... This is the message I got....
May 3, 2012


Giving our Children to God

Sharon Jaynes

Today’s Truth:

“Everything is possible for him who believes,” (Mark 9:23 NIV).

Friend to Friend

Once a distraught father had an unruly son with multiple physical and emotional problems. Many people even said the boy was possessed by a demon. The dad had tried everything, but the boy continued to demonstrate antisocial behavior by throwing himself in fire and then in water. That sort of behavior, on top of frequent seizures, rolling on the ground, foaming at the mouth, and an inability to talk, made the dad desperate to find a solution. He even took the boy to some faith healers who were traveling through his hometown. But nothing seemed to work.

Finally, the dad realized no human being was going to be able to help his son, so he took him directly to God. The father heard that Jesus was visiting in his community, so he boldly brought the boy to Him. With desperation in his voice the father pleaded, “If You can do anything, take pity on us and help us!”

And Jesus answered, “If You can! All things are possible to him who believes.”

Immediately the boy’s father cried out, “I do believe: help my unbelief.”

With that profession, Jesus healed the man’s son.

Oh how this story from Mark 9 stirs my heart. Can’t you feel the father’s pain? How desperately he must have felt every time the child threw himself into the water or the fire. “Why son? Why do you do these things? I don’t understand,” he must have asked.

Imagine the humiliation of the whispers as the family walked down the streets. “That’s the Jones family. Have you heard about their son? He’s…..” The stares. The snickers. The off-color comments. Don’t you know there were many days when this dad wanted to just give up? Instead, he offers us a beautiful picture of what all parents must do, the ultimate act in parenting - hand our children over to God.

As mothers, aunts, grandmothers, and a host of other caretakers, at times we find ourselves at the end of our mental and emotional resources. We feel we have done everything humanly possible and don’t know the best action to take with our children. That’s exactly where God wants us every day, not depending on our human capabilities but on His unlimited abilities, not depending on our own impotence but on His potent power, not depending on our limited knowledge but on His unlimited wisdom. When we realize that we do not have and never will have all the child-rearing answers, we can find peace in giving our children to the One who does.

S.D. Gordon, in Quiet Talks on Prayer, said, “You can do more than pray, after you have prayed. But you cannot do more than pray until you have prayed.”

Let’s Pray

(For those who have children still at home)

Dear God, today, I once again bring my child to you. Please show me how to parent this precious gift that you have given me. Help me to be the best mother (or caregiver) that I can be. I pray that Your Holy Spirit will teach me, Your wisdom will guide me, and Your love will move me. Most of all, Lord, I give this child to You. Please make him (her) a child after Your own heart.

In Jesus’ Name,

Amen.

(For those with grown children)

Dear God, my child is no longer under my roof or under my wing. He (She) is now out in the world making life decisions of his (her) own. I give this adult child to You, Lord. May he (she) seek You with all his (her) heart. I pray that You will protect him (her), guide him (her), and open his (her) heart to the truth of God’s Word every day. I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth (3 John 4 NIV).

In Jesus’ Name,

Amen.

Now It’s Your Turn

Make a list of things about your child over which you have no control.

Now turn that list into a prayer and relinquish each item of concern to God.

Remember Jesus’ reply to the father who said, “If you can do anything…” Write today’s key verse on an index card and commit it to memory.

Goosebumps....

On Monday my day was completely out of sorts.....  At work I had unforseen deadlines and had to work an extra hour to finish, I had to pick Divan up from hockey practice which ended 1/2 an hour later than expected.  Dylan had to be fetched from the house where he would be house sitting which is right on the other side of where I had to fetch Divan from - in peak hour traffic on Malibongwe drive.

Needless to say, we only arrived home at 18h30.  Luckily my wonderful husband had already cooked the macaroni and fried the bacon for the evenings supper of macaroni and cheese.  I only had to make the cheese sauce and put everything together.  I must be honest and say that I did not have the energy to do anything special, and was about to make a slap dash white sauce when I realised that my men were starving and they deserved nothing less than my best - even if it was only going to be macaroni and cheese.

I melted the butter and added the flour, then the milk bit by bit and whisked up a frenzy to ensure that there were no lumps.  Then added the salt and freshly ground black pepper with a dash of paprika and lots and lots of cheese.  Waited for it to thicken then added the fried bacon and poured everything over the macaroni.  Stirred it together and dished up.

The boys were absolutely famished and started eating straight away.  Dylan took his first bite, then another and looked at me:  "Mom, this is so good."  He pushed up his jersey sleeve and showed me.  "Look, I've got goosebumps!!"

That's the best compliment I have EVER had about my food!

Be strong...

I really missed my mother in law this past weekend - not only because it was Easter weekend and I just know she would have invited us for lunch on Sunday serving chicken and mushroom pie, beans and potatoes mashed with lots of pepper, sweet pumpkin and sticky rice.  (I can smell the different aromas that used to tantalise my nose when I opened the front door to her home.)  I also missed her because I needed her.  I needed her wisdom and her encouragement.  I needed her to tell me (yet again) that things aren't always as bad as they seem. 
When the boys were younger, I felt 'big'.  I felt half in control, that everything can be dealt with by using good organisational skills and a 'to do' list.  Then as they started getting older, I started feeling smaller, half out of control.....  Ma Helen had 4 boys and always seemed in control.  Nothing got her down. 
Now my boys tower above me in stature and in personality and I must say that I sometimes feel overwhelmed.  I don't know how to deal with many of the situations that are sent my way.  Organisational skills and to do lists don't work anymore.....  I have to rely on the foundation I gave them when they were still small and I was 'tall'.
I needed Ma Helen this weekend to say "You think that things are all topsy turvey because you are seeing it through your eyes, but God is looking at the situation through His eyes, and everything is on track."  He dreamt about each of my sons before they were born.  He has a plan for each one of them, and I must have faith in Him.  And when things get really tough? "Be strong.  God has promised He will never let you go through more than you can handle."

When a craft turns into harmful intent

One of the useful things about having a 'smart' phone is that I can surf the internet while I'm waiting to pick up kids, in a queue at Pick 'n Pay etc.  And I can bookmark them.... which makes it easier to find them again.  It's also great when the boys need to look up something on the internet as we don't have a computer at home. 

So it came about that Dylan wanted to check something and asked if he could borrow my phone.  Sure thing....  I was sitting at the dining room table and looked up to watch something on the television.  My eyes drifted over to Dylan and I could see this intense look on his face.  Then he frowned deeply, tilted his head and looked at me. 
"Why would you want to make a Roman blind?" 
"It's to hang in my kitchen"
The look intensified........ 
and then I clicked.....
"Dylan, it's not a real Roman person........ it's a window dressing."
"Ooohhhh"  Relief.
He had seen by bookmark on "How to make a Roman blind."

Sounding strange?

I don't usually take my cellphone into the bathroom with me, firstly because I hate being interupted in the one place where I can be alone with my thoughts, soaking in a hot tub with bubble bath, secondly because when some-one phones they KNOW you are in the bathroom by the echo.....
But this one afternoon I decided to take my phone with me for the reason that no-one else was home and I wasn't quite sure whether Dylan had a lift home or not.
And, as luck would have it, 5 minutes into my luxurious bath time experience, the phone rings..... grab a towel, dry hands, save the towel before it falls into the bath, grab the phone, grab the glasses (can't see the green button without them...) answer the phone - and it is, in fact, Dylan...
"Hallo"
"Hallo, Mom?"
"Hi Dylan...."
"Mom?"
"Yes Dylan, what's wrong?"
"Mom can you hear me?"
"Yes Dylan, speak....." (I am dripping foam and freezing from the breeze coming in through the window)
"Mom? Ok, I have a lift home"
"Great, Dylan, where are you now?" (I need to know whether I must finish my bath quickly so that I can unlock the front door for him, or can I spend an extra 20 minutes relaxing).
"Can't hear you, what are you saying Mom?"
"Wheeerrreeee  aaaaarrreeeee yoooouuuuu?"
"Whaaaaat?"
"Where are you!!!!!
"Mom, send me an sms, bye!"
So I duly send him an sms "Where are you"
"Leaving work now...... why do you sound vacuum packed?"

Living in Denial

I spent the evening on the laptop surfing the net and checking out the UNISA website for the course that Dylan wants to study.  I'd like to disagree with anyone who thinks that this is a user friendly site.....  Page after page of useless information and the search function takes you back to Google (?).

Dylan sits patiently at my side until we eventually find the degree that he fancies.  But looking through the selection of degrees and diplomas I start to feel that maybe I'd like to study something too.  That would really boost my self confidence. 

Dylan sits attentively at my side - "What would you like to study?" Dylan asks.
 "I don't know...." I  respond.
 "What about Psychology?  All old people study psychology." he says while typing away on his phone.
 "I'm not old!" I say. 
There were a few minutes of silence before he says: "Well, people in denial also study psychology......." 

A Christmas Gift for Divan

Anyone who knows Divan, knows him as friendly and fun to be with.  He does, however, have the tendency to find friends who get him into trouble.  He has had a rough High School career because of this.  I always say that he has an internal magnet that pulls these characters towards him.  He is very impulsive and won't think before he does something which ultimately gets him into a spot of bother.  We love him all the same and try to guide and counsel him constantly without getting into his personal space.

At Christmas, Dennis's girlfriend, Robyn, was helping Dennis buy Christmas gifts for his brothers.  Dennis decided on arm bands from Gospel Direct - very nice leather arm bands with a silver plate with a engraved cross on it.  (I think he was hoping it would ward off evil spirits). 

After handing out the gifts on Christmas eve, Divan and Dylan were very pleased with their gifts from Dennis.  Robyn leant over the table and said to me: " There were no WWJD arm bands....." (What Would Jesus Do.)