If it ain't one thing, it's your mother!

I'm awed by my daughters. By how much I love them but more than that, by how much they love me. The way their precious faces light up when I walk into the room humbles me each time. I spent a day with Tabo (1 year old) recently when I was off sick from work, and from there it was like something triggered in her and she seems to enjoy my presence whereas before she tolerated me as one of the people in the house. And 4 your old Lani! Oh my, she inspires me with her love and adoration everyday! She asks such insightful questions and says 'I love you, Mummy' about 8 times a day! I'm humbled at how easy they are to love and mother (so far!), but I can't help wondering about my own childhood and when my relationship with my mother became difficult. So I find myself on the lookout for signs of stress, though I don't know what I'll do when they come. For now though I'm in awe of God's love and favour, that a terrible daughter like me would have such awesome daughters. And I say this before we hit our second cycle of the terrible twos!! fingers crossed!

The answer to the question...

As I was reading Paulo Coehlo's 'The Witch of Portobello' four days ago it hit me firstly that I'm a hippie at heart! But more importantly that in this phase of my life I'm searching - searching for life, love, answers to all the questions I've ever had (Coelho will do that to you!), but at the end of it all I'm searching for myself! How important it is to know me - the culmination of what I think, dream, hope, my identity in Christ, who I am to other people, but most of all who I am to myself. I often try to stop and wonder if I'm living the life I imagine I should be living but rarely take the time to answer that question. I think finding me and the answer to the question 'Who am I?' that will fit me always is the answer to unlocking the rest of my life.
Seen

The joys of winter

What's the summer equivalent of a winter night by the fire?

Accidents or learning aids? Day 5 in photos

10 month old Tabo's first kitchen disaster

Changing names, changing lanes

Throughout my young feminist life I was always convinced that I'd never change my surname when I got married. However, when I did get married it wasnt worth the fight to keep my name as it was important to my husband. I changed officially but not in my heart so the things dearest to me kept my maiden name eg my email and my signature and my initials. My main argument (to myself because noone really asked me about it) was that the maiden name part of me was still a part of me and didnt need to be replaced. Now five years later I'm feeling an internal urge to complete the process and get an email address with my new surname. Why though? Have I finally got used to being called mrs? Have i finally embraced my family in law? What does it mean for my 'old' surname and ideology? I think I'll wait a while before I make the change to see if I really mean it.
Five years on I'm also interested in getting a new wedding ring. I think I'm discovering that who I am now is different from who I was then. How has that affected other areas of my life? I believe these 2 changes are mere symptoms of some internal changes. I believe I may just have grown up... whatever that means!

My beautiful daughter!

No words needed. She lights up my life! I never thought I'd be a gushing parent but there u have it...

Day 2 in pictures

Great lunch, chats and hanging with my good friend Sammy Sam. Our friendship formed so unexpectedly and has lasted for a long time through so much. I guess it just goes to show that you can't really plan these things.

My August in pictures

I've been very slack with this blog so I want to try and liven it up a bit. I shall try to upload a picture with a little story everyday in August. So here goes...

Age is more than a number, it's a relationship

Several times over the past couple of years I've had opportunity to engage with my parents and those of my friends outside of the usual system of our relationships. Circumstances called for both parties to be adults, no longer an adult and child. While it's empowering and somewhat exciting to be an 'adult' and have opinions that count, it's also sad and hard to see our parents as people that I can relate to on an equal footing. To see their weaknesses and their insecurities and realise that they are not omnipotent and omniscient beings who are always right. This realisation might be easier and it might come sooner for people from other cultures whose relationships are structured differently, but, for all our advancements, we Bulawayans are still very conservative. I love to be able to give back to my folks (which term covers uncles, aunts, older siblings, parents' friends) but their vulnerability kicks at something in my chest. Is it a fear that someday that'll be me? That as soon as you have children you live for them then one day they no longer need you? I guess I know myself well enough to fear that that fear could keep me from having a fully engaged relationship with my children, not wanting to 'lose' myself in parenting then be kicked out the door when my time is up. 

Be careful what you pray for...

I'm excited about this new blogging journey. I've been thinking about it for a while and wondering how to be honest and insightful without being inappropriately personal and naked. I haven't figured it out yet but I've got over my fear of trying, spurred on by a lovely lady in Ireland who I've spent most of my life copying!

So, what to write about? One of the many ravings that has been on my heart for the past couple of days is how we don't often realise when prayer has been answered, especially those half-thought of desperate, prayers like 'Lord, please make me a better person!' when we've wronged someone. God, in His wisdom and parent-like sense of humour, answers us very practically and makes us learn things. I've found myself wondering why certain situations keep recurring (such as being plan-lessly broke!) then i remember that i asked Him to teach me to rely on Him. Ouch! I wonder why my 4-going-on-14 year old daughter is being so trying and I remember that I prayed to be a more patient mum.

In short, I've learnt that God rarely waves His magic wand (!) and transforms us, but He truly takes the time to grow us and teach us to be better people in ways that will last. I'm still to see Him answer those other desperate prayers - may the fleas of a thousand camels infest the armpits of my enemies! (stolen curse!)