Tag Archives: porch

Oribi Mom: Teetering Into Winter 2023

“Using terms like “when they were little” feels crazy when they’re five and three. But they’re boys now, not babies.”

We’re back into the stage of head bumps, bleeding gums, and closed baby gates now. Teething and learning to walk is hard, even for the third time running. Granted, the poor child has pushed out five teeth in just two months, and a sixth is just poking its enamel out this week, too. Thank goodness we live in South Africa and have easy access to droewors, hey.

Somehow, babies manage to get themselves into the strangest predicaments before you know what’s happening. For example, he can quite easily get under the bed, but do you think he can reverse to get himself out again? Of course not. He can also get up onto a molly box, which is just high enough to cause Mom to panic about him going head-first off it. Let’s not talk about the stairs that run off the porch. We’re still being quite diligent about keeping that little gate closed but, with two brothers around, it’s only a matter of time.

The new game is to unpack the Tupperware cupboard. That means taking every single item out and spreading them around the floor. There’s also an affinity for the bookshelf. I remember now why we made a kids’ books shelf to distract his two brothers when they were little. And it truly does go by so very quickly.

Using terms like ‘when they were little’ feels crazy when they’re five and three. But they’re boys now, not babies. They don’t unpack the bookshelves or get stuck on tables or try to stick their heads through the security gate bars anymore. Though, the three year old did manage to vomit into the nebuliser this morning, so there’s that.

In a few weeks or months, they’ll be walking. And then they’ll be in their first job interview. Hopefully, we can keep up, and take it all in.

Published here.

Oribi Mom: Almost Enough To Get the Blood Boiling

“About five minutes in, I hear screams and shouts and running feet outside. “Mom, come quick!” The husband is shouting for me to come get the baby. Where is my middle child? Is it another mamba?”

 

The heat draws out strange things, especially in the humans in my home. Everyone is a little grumpier, a little lazier, and with toddlers, far less covered in socially appropriate clothing.

As the jackal buzzards enjoy the thermals far above, we sit in any cool spot we can find and try to act normal. The garden doesn’t have much shade right now but my grandchildren should have a few big trees to sit under if I can help these saplings survive a few more Januaries.

Hot and Bothered Under the Collar

On one of these sweltering days, I was casually trying to dry four days’ worth of washing and get the housework under control. I heartily agreed to the husband’s request to take our three little farmboys to the pumphouse to put off the water.

Off they went for the 20 minute stroll, with the five-year-old refusing to don clothes and only wearing his costume bottoms. The two-year-old would not put on more than a nappy. And the baby would not wear a hat for more than twenty seconds.

Well, it might be worth 20 minutes of housework.

About five minutes in, I hear screams and shouts and running feet outside. “Mom, come quick!” The husband is shouting for me to come get the baby. Where is my middle child? Is it another mamba?

As I race in the direction of the gate, said middle child comes waltzing over the grass, completely naked, and not at all concerned about his mother’s worried face. Behind him is one of the farm workers who lives nearby, looking sweaty but definitely coming up to the house. What is going on?

Everybody Calm Down and Move the Wardrobe

It turns out that there was no big emergency. We needed help carrying a large piece of furniture into the house and our friendly neighbour had agreed to come in and help with the load on his way back from town. So, now we have a beautiful wardrobe in our room and I didn’t have to break any vertebrae or toes on the way. Isn’t life funny?

It’s still hot, but there’s a cool breeze blowing calm onto my porch in 2023. Maybe, it’s going to be a good year.

Published here.