Wednesday, November 25, 2009


I can't paint.
I can't draw.

Occasionally I can take a good photograph.

But that is the extent of my creativity, thanks to my training as a boring accountant.

My dad is sure that Annie has an artistic side.
She has much more talent than me.
Maybe one day she will be a world famous artist.

I do know, however, what moves me.



I love Meri's blog.

She does the most amazing art.
And is a fan of Eckhart, just like me.

Her Chrysanthemums have made my heart soar.
Go have a look here and here.
It has made my day so much brighter.

Reflections Part 3

I am so blessed to have this little man.

Tonight I got to hum Brahm's Lullaby to him.
So that he could fall asleep.
I can't sing.
But I can hum.

I get to feed him.

For five months of his life, my body was what was keeping him alive.
My body carried him for nine months.
Then it fed him for another five.

I am in awe of my body.
A woman's body.
A miracle machine.

I get to wake up for him at night.
To comfort him in the dark.

I read this today.

And I am reminded of how important my job is.

That I do not let him cry himself to sleep.

Like people tell me to do.

I trust my motherly instinct.

And comfort my son.
Because he needs me.

One day he won't.

I savour every moment that he does.

Reflections Part 2

My daughter did something sneaky today.

She thought I couldn't hear her, so she turned the kitchen timer back, so that she could get more TV time.
(I allow her two hours a day, once the timer has gone off, so does the TV.)

I was quite amused by this and was struck by how daring she was.

I would have never done something like that as a child, I was (and still am) way too eager to please.

I asked her what she had just done.

I casually explained that it's probably not a good idea to do something like that.
Started trying to explain what integrity is to a (nearly) four year old.

And then the strangest thing happened.

She started crying.

She had realised what she had done.

I had hardly said a sentence to her.

She realised all on her own.

She had tried to betray her mother's trust.

She didn't understand what she was feeling.

She felt remorse.

At the age of (nearly) four.

How incredible.

I had to tell her that it was OK.
That she felt bad because she had tried to do something sneaky.
But that I still love her.
And it's OK to make mistakes.

All of this to a (nearly) four year old.

Her depth of emotion and maturity has amazed me.

I am so grateful for this little angel.
Who tells me that she loves me at least once every hour.
Every day.

I love you , my Annie.

Reflections Part 1

Sohail's colleague at work was retrenched.

He then found out that he has cancer.

He has 2 small children.
Aged four.
And one.

I have never met this man.
My heart breaks for him and his family.

I just found out that he has lost 10 kilograms and his wife is exhausted from looking after him.

They would just like some nutritious food.

We will give them some of the food that my husband makes for his family every weekend.
Because he can.
Because he is healthy.
And has a job.

They could be us.

We are no different to them.

Please send them your blessings, even though you do not know them.
And be grateful for the blessings in your own life.

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Ballerina girl

My ballerina girl had her first concert this weekend.

She got to wear make up.
She loved the make up.

She was the smallest one on stage.
I think that she is the smallest one in the dance school.

She came on stage.

She ran off.

She ran back on.

She saw me in the audience.
She waved.
She said "Hi Mom!"
She waved.
She chuckled.
She waved.
She said "Hi Mom!"
She laughed.

She looked around the audience thinking that this is the most fun she has ever had.

She came home holding herself just a little bit taller.
Her confidence in herself has sky rocketed.
She has been performing for us ever since.

She is my shining star.

I am so proud of her.

My little ballerina.

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Vegetable update

Not much blogging going on these days.

I am now chronically sleep deprived.
I hear that this time is the most difficult time with a baby.
He is getting heavier.
I am still breastfeeding.
I am giving.
He is still not sleeping through the night.
And doesn't take a bottle.
So it is just me there for him at night.
And in the day.
Just me.
All the time.

It's a bit hard to come up with inspiring things to write when you are sleep deprived.

That's ok.

Look at that face.

The point of this post was meant to be:

My vegetables are growing!

I have a pumpkin!

It's all very exciting for someone who has never grown any vegetables.

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