cape town life

Handsomes

amanda — Thu, 18 Sep 2008 09:33:43 +0200

This was taken at the beginning of the year at Boulders beach in Simonstown. Just came across it now while doing some spring cleaning.

Buddha bubbles

amanda — Mon, 15 Sep 2008 14:21:54 +0200

"We should not complain about impermanence, because without impermanence, nothing is possible" - Thich Nhat Hanh

Picture taken by Finley

It was Saturday morning and we had just finished eating our fruit salad when Finley's eye caught the bottle of bubbles on the shelf. He's become really good at blowing bubbles and holding the bottle by himself, dip and blow.

Dip. Dip. Blow.

He has also developed this high-pitched three-note melody that goes something like "aaahuhaah" when the bubble he is blowing pops before it leaves the bubble wand. The cuteness of that sound never gets old.

This is the shape of that sound.

This Saturday though, he was becoming increasingly troubled by those bubbles that did make it off the wand to float gracefully in the air, sunlight shimmering off their soapy skins, only to pop and sadly disappear as if they were never there.

I started talking to him about Buddha's ideas on impermanence and how we can appreciate the beauty of the bubbles without getting too attached to them. I think he stopped listening after I said Buddha and seemingly my deep life lesson fell on deaf ears. Instead, he went over to the bookshelf and pointed up at our own Buddha who has regrettably become somewhat of a bookend (only temporary I promise). "Booda Booda!" he cried in excitement. I went over to fetch it for him and he proceeded to happily blow bubbles with Buddha, and then happily pop the bubbles with Buddha as well. For the rest of the day, Finley and Buddha played together, ate together and drank together. I love being reminded, when trying to 'teach' Finley something, or impart some wisdom, that really, he is the one who is constantly teaching me.

Its been a long week

amanda — Tue, 09 Sep 2008 16:30:07 +0200

I said to myself that the next time I blogged I would finish Fin's birth story, since, let's be honest, it is dragging on a bit. But I'm too tired. My body is tired, my head is tired, the folds of my brain are tired. Too tired to try and access memories from 21 months ago anyway. And the reason I'm so tired is because Finley has been sick since last Monday. For those of you who aren't parents yet, having a sick child is hard work, even when it is just a common cold with a touch of respiratory tract infection, some vomit and diarrhea thrown in for good measure.

Or maybe you are a parent, but you're the type of parent who takes things in their stride, much like Brad, and doesn't sweat the small stuff, then you know that kids get sick, their bodies try and fight it either by themselves or with a little help, they get better and are stronger because of it. Now I know all of this in my head, but there's something about having a feverish child in the middle of the night that sends me into a panic. I think I'm getting better at it, but my mind can't help but to race through old baby books and baby websites I devoured from beginning to end when I was a new mother, trying to remember what the symptoms for meningitis are.

For me the hard work starts in the mental anguish of knowing this little person is in pain and feeling sick and doesn't really understand what's happening and can't articulate it to you yet. Then it travels down to the physical strain of carrying 13.5 kgs around because he just wants to be close to you so he can feel a little better. Then sleep-deprivation becomes an extension of myself, which I carry around as I do load after load of vomitty laundry and its hard to see the wood from the trees. And then the whole family gets sick and you wonder who is going to take care of who.

And then it lifts, because you find a wonderful homeopath in Plumstead who treats your child with love and respect and as a person not just a patient. Someone who is interested in his emotional state, his personality, his temperament. But I guess that is homeopathy in general. And when you get the remedy right it always amazes me how quickly it works. Within a day Finley was already so much better and everyday since then has been easier than the last.

The rain continues in this wet, wet city and the allure of spring feels just out of my grasp. I can only hope that this is the last of the wetness and the sickness for a while.

Its Amaymay!

amanda — Thu, 19 Jun 2008 14:10:06 +0200

I've been meaning to write down these words for such a long time. I'm forced to keep repeating them in my mind so that I don't forget them, but its time to free up some mental resources and put pen to paper (fingers to keyboard, you know what i mean)!

Dear Finley

There are so many everyday things that I love about you at this age that I don't want to forget. When we were in Grahamstown the other weekend, Dylan passed you the placemat and asked you if you still liked woven things. Your dad and I had completely forgot how much you were fascinated by anything woven when you were a baby. Maybe you were 6 months old or so, (possibly older) and you used to scratch at whatever woven thing you were holding, exploring with your fingers and be captivated in that moment. So that event prompted me to make a list of the things I don't want to forget about the you that you are now.

When you sleep on your back, you lie with your hands under your head, elbows sticking out. Just like your great-grandpa Jimmy Ping (so says nana H). I like the idea of being able to see your heritage and ancestry not only by the way you look but by the things you do.

I love watching you dip things. Whether its a rusk into my cup of tea or a piece of bread into a bowl of soup. its the sweetest thing - the way your little tongue licks whatever you've just dipped.

I love how busy you seem to be. Off on your own mission, enjoying spending time alone, well with baba or george for company. I like how you sometimes go into your room and fetch a book and sit on your bed paging through it. It makes me smile to know that you love reading and that you see your room as part of your space, a haven, a place to retreat to.

I love all your new words that you are starting to say. Like the other day your dad taught you how to say Its Amazing! and when you say Amaymay! you say it with the same expression as he does.

I love that you still spend time sleeping in our bed. We both love waking up with you in the middle and in those early morning moments we look at you in amazement, this growing boy lying peacefully between us. We still ooh and aah over your cuteness, how you now roll over and cuddle us, taking turns at throwing an arm over your dad or nuzzling your head onto my pillow.

I love how you name all the veggies in our vegetable garden and water them as part of your being-outside-rituals, all by yourself without any prompting. I love that you have a sense of responsibility about looking after these plants, that you are gentle with them, and delicately pluck the basil leaves while I am getting ready to make pesto. I love how shopping at Fruit&Veg City excites you in the same way it does me. I love how you exclaim at the size of the butternuts or rip at the packaging of the broccoli, like it is a sweet, delicious treat.

I love how interested you are in cooking and baking and being with me in the kitchen. You love to see what's in the pot and love sprinkling in various herbs and spices. I'm forced to curb your enthusiasm otherwise we would have the total contents of the spice rack in every meal. I love that despite your willfulness you let me guide you about which flavours compliment each other and which don't.

Most of all, I love watching you become the person you are. You can be strong and fierce when you need to but also so kind and empathetic. Your sense of humour has blossomed in the last 6 months. You make us laugh until we cry and we feel so blessed that you are sharing this life with us. Finley, You are Amaymay!

Rainy days and Mondays

amanda — Mon, 12 May 2008 14:54:48 +0200

Winter in Cape Town has arrived and although it may not be especially cold yet, it certainly is very rainy and windy. Fin and I have been exploring this new wet weather and even though he isn't into wearing his Wellington boots, he loves being bundled up, especially in his hat and scarf.

We've also been singing lots of weather-appropriate songs like the usual classics "Its Raining, Its Pouring", "Raindrops keep falling on my head", "Singing in the rain" and "Insy Wincy Spider". Finley and I get bored of just singing children's songs so we've added some lesser known favourites like "Bring on the Rain" by High Society and "Rainy Days and Mondays" by the Carpenters to our repertoire. I love how he sways his body from side to side and sings along (mostly his own words) in his falsetto voice. He's always keen on learning a new tune so let us know what your favourite wet weather song is in a comment below.

Unlike the Carpenters, Rainy Days and Mondays rarely get me down. Here's why:

Since the house we are renting went on the market we've been having a show house most Sunday afternoons. I thought it would be very inconvenient but it just means we mostly make an effort to get out the house and do something and come Monday morning, we wake up and start the week in a clean house.
I've started yoga at Sundara down the road in Harfield Village. 2 hours every Monday evening just for myself - bliss!
So far food on rainy days have been all about big pots of soup and homemade bread. (Our favourite variation is basil, sundried tomatoes and parmesan)
We have a tumble dryer which has proven to be invaluable in the last few days.
Mondays are becoming craft days at the Whijo household. Finley is getting more interested in working with a variety of materials like wool and beads and sticks and stones. I will post some pics a bit later.

So I rather like this cosy winter, but then again, I don't have to get up in the cold and dark and brace the elements on the commute to a job outside the home. One of the perks of my job is that I get to sleep in until the sky lightens under a warm feather duvet, snuggling up next to the cutest boy with the sweetest morning breath thats whispers against my skin (no Darb, I'm talking about Fin). I get a cup of Earl Grey next to my bed and a wakeup kiss on my forehead (yes now im talking about you) and I feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

Book club

amanda — Fri, 15 Feb 2008 13:38:54 +0200

Our 3-year old neighbour, Kieran, came over yesterday afternoon to show Finley two of his books: The Gruffalo and Room on the Broom ("by Julia Donaldson and Axel Scheffler" he likes to add). Finley was thrilled since these are two of his favourite books as well. Kieran 'read' the story (not so much reading as sprouting the entire story from memory - i had to laugh when he got distracted and lost his mental place and needed to start all over from the beginning) and Fin followed along in his book.

It was so precious watching the two of them swap books through the gate (which was closed because their big Alsation Maddie likes to lick Fin like an ice-cream and Fin is a little scared and still getting used to the idea that dogs come in various sizes, some of which tower over you). Kieran hadn't read Monkey Puzzle before so I passed it through for him to have a look. Finley got all possessive over his All Time Favourite book and proceeded to collapse on the floor in a crying, screaming heap (something that has been happening with more regularity lately). I kindly asked Kieran to please pass it back to Finley and he obliged, looking on Finley's mini tantrum with a kind of delighted horror. I wasn't expecting the next part. Finley reaches out to take it and says with the most angelic baby voice you can imagine 'Eng gue' (thank you). My eyes filled with tears as they do each time I see my little baby growing up so fast right in front of me. The little baby who didn't really take an interest in books not so long ago and yet now there's this little boy in front of me who reads by himself, turning the pages, talking to himself, pointing at the images he recognises. I get to watch him discover far-off worlds and all sorts of characters and friends between their pages. Its a wonderful, exciting time.

climbing back on

amanda — Mon, 21 Jan 2008 23:11:14 +0200

We've been back in Cape Town for almost a week and life is kind of finding its groove. I still don't know which day the dirt gets collected and we haven't put up our post box, but there are only 4 boxes left to unpack and I'm feeling really happy about our new home.

Finley has been asleep for 3 hours since bedtime at 8pm. He took awhile to fall asleep, most probably because Brad is in Joburg at the OV offices for a couple days and Fin doesn't understand why Dad isn't there to say goodnight. It was quite heartbreaking how his eyes would almost be closed and in a sudden attempt to regain control over the Sandman he would bolt upright sitting on the bed calling out for Dada. Even craning his head around the slightly ajar door to see if he could see him down the passage. Even climbing off the bed and checking in our bathroom, just in case. On realising there was no Dada in sight, his bottom lip trembled and the tears welled up. I tried to explain that "he was still at work" and that "he's coming back on the big aeroplane tomorrow" but he just needed to cry for his Dad a bit and then got back to the business of falling asleep.

I've been reading so many great blogs tonight and its really inspired me to climb back on that proverbial horse and just do it. When you haven't blogged in ages you do get a bit stuck, like Kiki says when he talks about the "perpetuation of absent blog posts due to mounting content." somewhere in that post. He says it more eloquently though. I was going to try and summarize our month-long holiday in Durban but that will have to be for another time.