Freakin' Fantastic Folks... Friday!

What I think I love most about technology is the new stuff you get to see that there was no way could ever have been seen years ago before social media. I love seeing how creative people can be, and I definitely love it when they're parents.

These dads are awesome! They pretty much let their kids write a 'movie' and then acted it out for them... It is far more hilarious than it sounds and I just love it!!!

Also... I am left wondering what the hell I'm doing wrong because who's got the time to actually do these kinds of things?

An Unfolding

 

Being a parent of a child with special needs is many things, but dull it isn’t. Well at least not for me! I am constantly having mini-awakenings – small aha moments as the meaning of my child’s diagnosis unfolds a little more day by day.

                One such unfolding occurred this morning when I realised that while we have spent Malakai’s life so far doing everything we can to afford him a ‘typical’ development and will we will continue to do so, the opposite of this is also coming into play now. Like a yin and yang or push and pull, I have realised that there are some things we simply cannot improve on.

                We can (and have) helped Malakai to develop in amazing ways – and I believe this is because I have never placed a ceiling on what he’s capable of. I have never thought he was incapable of something simply because of his Down syndrome.

                But – and this is a new but… I have realised that there are some things we simply cannot push him to be or do. There are some things we simply have to accept. And I know I am sounding rather cryptic here, so let me give an example.

                Walking into school…

                Something that most kids just do. Maybe a tear or two, even a bit of minor manipulation. I know because I’ve been there with Harlan. But eventually your kid just walks into school right? Well not if they’re Malakai.

                He simply refuses to walk into school like the rest of the kids. He cries, screams, performs and is genuinely and desperately unhappy by walking into school. And together with his teachers we tried everything – nothing short of a welcoming party! The only thing that was missing was a marching band and streamers… And yet? Not having it.

                Last week after a particularly difficult drop off where Malakai even tried to bite me I stumbled back to my car after he’d been dragged off into school and I wept. Big hot tears streamed down my cheeks. I just couldn’t believe that after all we had been through with Malakai, after all his hard work and our immigration to another hemisphere, it could all fall down on walking into school. Seriously? It would be this that would undo us?

                Then it dawned on me – step back and take the pressure off. Think of another way – walk him to his desk myself. Give it a bash because really, it couldn’t get much worse… And it worked. He goes in happily now when I take him. Problem solved right? Yes! But this is what I mean about a yin and yang – not accepting and accepting. It’s a fine line and a funky dance…

                I realised today that there are just some ways that Malakai is different. He will never be the same as other kids. And nothing we do can change that. We need to accept that and meet him where he is.

                The challenge is deciding when to accept and when to push him to achieve more, do more and be more… that’s an aha moment for another day obviously.

Happy World Down Syndrome Day

It is that time of year - World Down Syndrome Day.

I really hope that my journey and Malakai's story has made a small difference. In fact, I know we've made a little difference out there. And for that I am grateful. To have a greater meaning to my life has possibly been the most profound gift Malakai has brought me. And I love that boy - I can't describe in words just how much. But boy he is like my heart, beating outside of my body.

I found this video and thought it was really apt to share on this day - it is beautiful.

Happy happy peeps!

Bleh... *sniff sniff*

Ok, so the entire lot of us has been sick for weeks now. Good grief, what a horrible time.

 

Coming from deepest darkest Africa I kind of thought we were immune to most bugs and viruses, but they obviously have some ancient cooties happening up in here because we have not been this sick in years. As soon as one of us gets over it, we pass it around again.

 

Getting better in the UK is very different to South Africa. In SA I would just take myself and the family off to the doctor down the road who would probably over prescribe a million different things which would make me feel better – even if it was just masking the symptoms - because that's what I paid a fortune in medical aid for dammit! Here the NHS is great if your leg is chopped off, or if you’ve fallen off a bus or something. They are not so great if you’ve got the flu. And the chemists are even worse.

 

The doctor just won’t prescribe antibiotics if you aren’t half dead, and even when they do prescribe antibiotics, they leave the pain meds up to you. Problem is, the chemists are too scared to give you any medications, even if they’re over the counter. In fact, even if they’re on the flipping shelf in the middle of the garage down the road – they will still bulk at giving it you. Don't believe me? One day I went to get an enema for Malakai (we sometimes have to use them to help with his constipation, so I've administered them several times). I usually buy them on the shelf in Clicks, but couldn't find any in my local Boots. So I asked the chemist who told me that they wouldn't give me an enema without a PRESCRIPTION! Seriously? It's water and glycerin in fancy bottle! But no...

 

I have never had to deal with feeling absolutely crap constantly with absolutely crappy, snotty, grumpy kids as well and have no one I can turn to. Boo Hoo!!! It’s been a total mind shift for us and I just hope and pray we get rid of these bugs soon – short of spraying the entire house in a bacteria-killing mist…

For what it's worth

This whole thing? Moving my family to another country in another hemisphere. Leaving everything we know behind… is it worth it?

                This has been the most difficult thing I have ever done in my whole life. Difficult in ways that I cannot even describe in writing – or rather in ways that I don’t want to revisit through writing. But the short answer is Hell Yes.

                If I have to start describing how amazing Malakai’s school is, and how wonderful Harlan’s preschool is – I could carry on for days. At times the attention that Malakai receives, the effort that is made for him by people that are essentially total strangers – it’s overwhelming. I cannot believe that they would do so much for him and for us? And why don’t I believe it? I don’t know why – is it the way I was raised, the country I’m from, my experience thus far? Is it because in South Africa I had total control of his therapies and interventions and here I have no control, so I have to allow others to do what I cannot do? Perhaps…

                But it is just incredible.

                Malakai has a class teacher and teaching assistant, but then he also has three support workers who work at different times of the day and week so that he has constant one-on-one attention. His class teacher plans his lessons and the support workers implement it. Malakai has his own work station and they give him a very visual approach to learning. He spends as much time as possible with the other children in the class and has made friends! There is Hassim and Joe, Lilly and Milly, Maya and Henry, Tom and Ben… We even went to a birthday party last week (Henry’s) which was awesome! A few times in the last week Malakai has walked his friends (usually Lilly or Milly) to their car holding hands. I mean seriously!!!! I can die from the cute-factor!

                As for academics, Malakai can now write all his numbers and has learned to recognise, say and sound out M, S & N. They sing with him. Dance with him. Read with him. Exercise with him. Laugh with him. Love him. Accept him. Want him… and it feels so good it hurts.

                As for Harlan – who unfortunately tends to take a back seat in this blog, but definitely not in real life I promise! – he has made me so proud. He has walked into a new preschool, filled with new kids who speak a little funny and eat a little funny. He has done all this in a way that the teachers have asked, “And you said Harlan was shy?” and I know he’s shy! Believe me! He’s been so brave, so smart, so wonderful. Have I said yet how proud I am of him? It has not been easy for any of us, but I think least of all Harlan, and he has really been a brave, brave boy.

                So, yes. It’s been worth it.

Say whaaaaat?.... Wednesday

Harlan was having a million temper tantrums the other day... so by the time we got to bedtime I was all too eager to get the boys straight to sleep and forget about any story time! 

Me - there is no time for books tonight.

Harlan - just one book mommy...

Me - (giving Harlan a sideways glance, secretly happy that he loves reading so much)

Harlan - Mom, just take a deep breath!

Freakin' Fantastic Folks!.... Friday

I love it when people come up with super creative ideas, and I love it even more now that these super cool people can share their ideas with the world as easily as clicking a little 'share' button.

Better yet is when the super cool creative people are parents who refuse to let their brains turn to mush after days and weeks and months of sleepless nights and toddler tantrums. Somehow their minds are saved, and they come up with such brilliant stuff!!!

I give you DINOVEMBER!

Ok, ok, I know it's February... But just look at what these parents do every November for their kids. It is fantastic and amazing and freakin' fantastic folks!

Follow this link:

https://medium.com/thoughts-on-creativity/6f4cb1886d41

They also have a Facebook Page

https://www.facebook.com/dinovember

Now that just puts a smile on my face :)

Say whaaaaat?.... Wednesdays

While out the other day at our local country park, the boys were simply fascinated by a golden retriever that was running full speed into the freezing water to fetch a stick...

Harlan - I want to swim too mommy!

Me - Harlan, it's far too cold to swim my boy!

Harlan - (after some thought) One day when I'm a Dalmatian can I swim in the pond?

Me - Sure Harlan, when you grow up to be a Dalmatian you are welcome to swim in the pond!

Freakin' Fantastic Folks... Friday

Ok, so this week is a cheat. These are not quite parents (scary, I know...), but this is such an incredible script that I think every newly born baby should hear, on a daily basis, until they turn at least 16 years old!

I am a huge fan of Soul Pancake and Kid President!

Say whaaaaat?.... Wednesdays

At Burger King the other day (yes... we are those kinds of parents, stop judging!) the kids are wearing their paper crowns:

Harlan - Mommy I'm a king!

Me - Yes Harley, you are.

Malakai - Me king!

Me - Yes, you and Harley are both kings.

Harley - Mommy, let me tell you something (pulling me closer...) you are a girl king!

Me - Thanks my angel!

Five day forecast

Monday – rainy

Tuesday – wet and rainy

Wednesday – windy and wet and rainy

Thursday – freezing and windy and wet and rainy

Friday – horrible and freezing and windy and wet and rainy

 

I now understand why British people are obsessed with the weather. It’s on the news (and I don’t mean only the weather bit of the news mind you), it’s on social media, it is on everyone’s minds and in most conversations. “How terrible is the weather? Yes… I know… ghastly! Is it still raining? Can you believe the rain? Floods everywhere…”

 

They have a real point though, because the weather is really awful enough in the UK for it be the topic of conversation, because there comes a moment when you look out your conservatory (built to harness the heat from the non-existent sun) and think to yourself “I simply cannot believe just how crappy the weather can be. Really. It seems almost surreal that weather can be THIS bad… but it is. There you have it. More rain. More wind. More freezing temperatures. More misery pouring from the sky onto us poor folk down here.”

 

The weather in this place is news worthy, of that there is no doubt.

 

Personally, I must say I like the rain. Nothing beats this weather for a cuddle on the couch with a good book and an even better cup of coffee. But that’s not my reality! I have two young boys and who want to play play play, and who until four months ago, lived outdoors. They’re now stuck inside with nowhere to go. Bored and listless. Peering out the window at the slightest hint of sunshine, only to be disappointed when the dastardly clouds steal it away from them the next moment.

 

This weather sucks. It really does. What I would give for a day free from wind or rain – I’ll settle for dry even if it’s cold, thank you.

 

Freakin' Fantastic Folks... Friday

Lately I have been coming across some incredible stories of parents - just plain and simple parents like you me - doing freakin' fantastic things! Just totally cool, or completely insane, or heartwarmingly selfless, or forehead slappingly clever things that leave me saying firstly, "Wow, that is freakin' fantastic!' and secondly, "Why the hell did I not think of that?"

So I think I need to share what these incredible parents are doing - because it warms the heart, because their actions are full of ideas for other parents who are less creative perhaps (LOL!), and finally because maybe we can all take something from these stories and see the magic behind the sometimes mind numbingly mundane moments that make up a lot of the parenting experience...

First up!

An awesome father who takes disability and turns it on his head. What a cool, good looking, infectiously happy son, and with a father like his, it's no wonder!

The original link to the article on the Huffington Post is here

Say whaaaaaat?.... Wednesdays

So, starting this lovely New Year (yes!!!!) is a new  regular post I'd like to call 'Say whaaaaat?.... Wednesdays'

While Harlan may be my second-born, I've experienced a lot of Firsts with him, not to mention the cutest, funniest and sometimes just plain scary stuff that comes out his mouth almost daily... The kid cracks me up!

I didn't experience this with Malakai, and of course a global speech delay will do that to a kid... I often wonder what Malakai would be saying if he could? What sorts of quirky ideas is he having but just not able to express?

But then, I spend a lot of my time talking about Malakai, so this is pure Harlan, because I love this crazy kid and think he deserves a medal for his awesomeness!!!

In the bath the other day Harlan drops a bombshell:

Harlan - Mom, I have a pain in my brain.

Me - Really? Harley where is your brain?

Harlan - I don't know mommy, where is my brain?

Me - (I point to my head)

Harlan - No mommy! You forgot! Its here! (laughing loudly and pointing to his heart...)

*I didn't know whether to laugh because he thinks his brain is in his chest, or whether to worry because my child is having chest pains!?

A whole lot of newness

 

Happy New Year!!!

Ok. So I have never been the best at hitting at the nail on the head when it comes to New Year, I have always been a bit slower on the uptake and this year is no exception to that rule.

So, it's already February and I'm wondering where the time has gone? Wasn't it just Christmas? Good grief!

But I forgive myself (for once) because life has certainly been a crazy mish-mash of newness at every turn; immigrating to a new country, on a new continent, in a new hemisphere will do that to you!

Getting used to life in beautiful Surrey has been interesting, gut-wrenching, uplifting, terrifying and totally satisfying all at once. The tough bits are all about missing home, about looking out the window to face yet another day of drizzle, about craving an Ouma rusk with every fibre of my being, about wanting to reach out and realising the person I want to reach out to is not just down the road anymore. Yes, there have been tears.

But then I am faced with the glorious bits; driving through the countryside past farms and tiny villages to drop my children at their respective schools, really being dumbfounded at the prettiness that reveals itself around every corner, being pleasantly startled at how well the bureaucratic machine turns in this first world country, and of course... the children.

I am so stinking proud of my boys. Harlan has been a champion of a boy, walking into his new school and settling in with such bravery despite the fact that I know it was difficult for him. I know he was scared, I know he was nervous, I know he wished he didn't have to do it, but he did and he's happy now and I am one proud mama.

Malakai's school has been incredible, gently guiding and supporting him through the process of settling in. He has made incredible strides in understanding a whole new system and has gone from being allowed to run amok to sitting in his class alongside his classmates. This may sound small, but in Special Needs Parenting Land, this tiny step takes on Epic Proportions, trust me... I am so stupendously happy with this school that I actually find it difficult to put into words what they are doing for him... and in turn, for me.

So yes, I am a bit late for the New Year. But trust me, the New Year has been the last thing on my mind. Now that I'm all caught up and officially residing in 2014 in both body AND mind I am looking forward to everything it has to bring.

Photo credit: www.surreyhills.org

What I know for sure

  

When I was younger I thought I knew a lot of things for sure, and such is the natural and inevitable bravado and confidence of youth. Failure is almost never an option, or even a reality, as our lives are held up and supported by those who come before us - parents, grandparents, teachers and anyone else who has a vested interest in giving us the belief we need in ourselves to take on the big wide world with a fighting chance one day.

 

As I've grown older there are many things I am not so sure of anymore, and I've realised that some of the most difficult things to do as an adult are those which you are not guaranteed the outcome of. You just do it because you must, or because you think it might work, or because you are trying your best. The result you want is not promised, and sometimes your heart is broken. Plain and simple. Life happens, as they say.

So when we decided to immigrate our family from one hemisphere to another based on the belief that both our sons' deserved the opportunity to attend mainstream schools, that it was within our reach to drop our children off at the same school gate each morning, that Malakai belongs with his peers because he's a little boy just like any other little boy - or that he at least deserved the chance to mainstream... all these beliefs that we held onto (and that South Africa couldn't offer us) led the biggest decision we've made for our young family. A move that cost us our life savings, not to mention the priceless loss of leaving our family, our friends, and the home town we've known all our life. Even though we thought we knew what we were doing, we weren't exactly sure how this move would change our lives and if we would end up getting what we so wanted for Malakai and Harlan.

Until we did.

Because we sure did, and I now I know for sure. We made the right move. We did the right thing. Our choice gave us the result we so dreamed of, and even more.

To give you an idea - the letter below is from the Special Education Needs Coordinator (SENCO) at Malakai's new school. This letter followed our first visit to the school once we arrived, where we were shown around and had a meeting with the principle and SENCO.


Dear Loren,

I hope you and your family are settling in well and looking forward to Christmas in Surrey.

Since we were last in touch, we've been advertising for extra special needs assistant support with the view to Malakai having full time 1:1 support. Malakai will be in a Year 1 class with his peers but also have the support he will need to help him access the curriculum at his level and the flexibility to use resources from the Reception classrooms (if you remember how excited he was to try out the bike on the playground!). We feel he will also need some support in the first instance due to his toileting needs and to ensure his safety as he appeared a little flighty on his visit. The advert states that the support is for a Year 1 child with Down syndrome (but does not name Malakai) this is in order to attract people with either experience of working with Down syndrome or people who are willing to learn about working with a child with Malakai's needs. We hope to make an appointment in the first week back after Christmas and aim to start Malakai in the school week of the 13th of January.

The educational psychologist would prefer to see Malakai in our school environment and would like to come in during the first week. No date/time is fixed yet but I will let you know when it is. She will start to assess Malakai's needs and this will feed into the satutory  assessment process which Lauren has sent you a leaflet about. Initially Malakai's support will be paid for from our school funds and once he hopefully gets a Statement of Special Needs additional funding will become available from County.

If you are available then Malakai's class teacher (Mrs Kernot) would like to see you at school next Tuesday. This will be an opportunity for Malakai to look around again and take any photos you might like (Mrs Kernot is also hoping to take photos and put a book together for Malakai). During the visit, we hope Malakai will be able to interact with some of his new class friends and Mrs Kernot is planning some playbased activities. Mrs Kernot is looking forward to meeting you both.

I imagine you've learned so much about Down syndrome as Malakai has grown up and for most of our staff we are at the beginning of the journey. If you have any resources you feel are helpful please let us know. I've been in touch with the Down Syndrome Association who have a great website and give support to schools and families. We also have two special schools locally who have outreach teams who work with us mainstream schools to develop our knowledge on different special needs. There are also some training opportunities coming up in the spring term from the Down Syndrome Association which we hope to attend. The educational psychologist will also provide us with support tailored to meet Malakai's individual needs.

We are a dedicated staff and will do everything we can to ensure Malakai is happy and safe, in a stimulating learning environment.  We look forward to your visit. Many thanks and best wishes.


When I got this email I was left speechless - literally. I didn't know how to respond, what to say, where to even start. I was dumbfounded at the level of interest, care and attention they had given my son. MY son!

We did visit, and it was yet another example of their sincerest hopes to give Malakai the best. We were welcomed by Mrs Kernot (who's wonderful by the way!) and two little ones from Malakai's class. They gave us a school tour (again) and took photos all along the way. Malakai was totally smitten by everyone and wherever we went in the school the teachers and support staff seemed to know who Malakai was, greeting him with warm smiles.

As promised, Mrs Kernot did make a book for malakai and she and the SENCO actually dropped it off at our home and came in to say hi to Malakai and meet Harlan. Dropped it off!!! Seriously...

So, what I know for sure is that we did the right thing. We made a good choice and the promises are like big warm arms enfolding us and saying 'you did good, well done'.

Sensory speaking

We took the kids into the city (yes... I've always wanted to use that phrase... it feels good) and what an experience! I saw London through the eyes of small children and while the buildings and the history and the shops are amazing, it is the sheer sensory assault that makes it a thrilling and amazing place to visit.

Just making it into the city at all is smorgasbord of sights, smells, sounds, with a bit of tactile and vestibular input thrown in for good measure. Rushing through the stalls to make the train, which then moves and sings mechanical songs made for wide-eyed wonder. "Hold on tight!" I urged and realised that the bumping and shaking of the train was something that Malakai and Harlan had never experienced before - it was brand new and every part of them was taking it in.They had to use their whole bodies to rush up the stairs of the double-decker bus and sit at the top with a bird's eye view of Oxford Street. 

It was a wonderful experience, and one that I loved to experience through my children's eyes.

He listened

 

 

Since his passing last night, I have been wracking my brain trying to figure out what it was that made Nelson Mandela so special. I was putting the kiddies to sleep when my husband jumped out of bed and asked me if I saw what was happening all over Twitter... No I hadn't seen, and together we switched on the telly and caught the last few moments of Jacob Zuma's address announcing that our beloved Tata Madiba had just passed away.

Since then the world has almost erupted, like there is a split down the middle, a gigantic hole from which rivers of condolences stream for the man that not only inspired a nation, but the world. Words like Peacemaker, Leader, Legend in the global civil rights movement... He is mourned and missed by everyone who is anyone the world over, and not just that, he is missed by ordinary people just like you and me.

What I haven't heard spoken about much in his eulogies was his profound sense of obligation to make the future better by empowering children - in South Africa as well as Africa as a whole. In terms of development, health care, access to education, even the simple things like having a parent (even just one), a warm place to sleep and enough food to keep their tummies from grumbling - Africa does not have the best track record. Our levels of child deaths due to preventable accidents is some 25 times higher than the United Kingdom for example, and our rates of foetal alcohol syndrome are the highest in the world (in some regions of the Western Cape as much as 100 times higher than the global average).

Nelson Mandela wanted to change this, and so he set up his Nelson Mandela's Children's Fund (NMCF) which raised hundreds of millions of rands to make a difference in the lives of children. He started the foundation with his own contribution - his prize money from winning the Nobel Peace Prize, and continued to contribute large portions of his monthly salary while in the presidency to the fund he was so passionate about.

I was recently given the opportunity as Features Editor of Mamas & Papas Magazine to write a cover story on the NMCF and learn more about the organisation and the man who founded it.

"Why did Madiba have the kind of affinity he did for children?" I asked, wondering why he didn't become a champion for jobs, or the environment or any other number of worthy causes. Why children? What I learned was that Nelson Mandela often spoke of how during his time on Robben Island he never once heard the sounds of children - obviously. No cries of joy or cries of sadness. No tiny voices or excited footsteps. No bouncing balls or clapping hands. Nothing. And, of course, he also missed raising his own children and sacrificed his life as a father in order to become the father of a nation that was decades away from being a reality.

Next I was told, in detail, about how Nelson Mandela had an express mandate - he wanted to hear the children's voices, he wanted to listen to them speak, he wanted to know what it was they needed instead of dictating to them what he thought they may need. He made it a priority to listen to children personally in order to really understand them. And as if that were not enough, his team understood and delivered on his request that all children be included - he didn't only want to hear from a certain kind of child, he wanted to hear the voices and see the faces of the black, white, coloured, indian, disabled and able children.

Heartwarmingly, I learned that when it came to including children with special needs at his annual birthday party - which was in fact a party his fund threw for a large group of children every year - he made it clear that there was to be no 'token' invites. Those children who had mobility challenges or cognitive challenges, they were not be to be relegated to the corner and brought forward for photographers before being excluded again - Nelson Mandela simply would not have it. All children were to be included, sincerely, respectfully and with love.

And so, as I reflected on this today I realised that I had it! I finally know what I think made Mandela so special; what his 'secret power' was.

He listened.

I mean he really listened.

And from his profound ability to really listen to others sprouted the other qualities that made him an icon respected the world over, a person that a nation of people could refer to as father or tata. His ability to listen to others made him able to truly understand them, he was then able to meet the most fundamental human need - that of being recognised, of being heard - because that is one of our deepest desires isn't it? To really be heard and understood?

He could captivate a room because he was able to listen, to make every person in that room feel that they had been validated. And I believe from his ability to listen came his immense humility - he never pushed himself on others, he never forced, he respected others because he listened. He certainly did this with children, and I am sure he did the same with world leaders, politicians, kings and queens alike.

And so I realised that if I wanted to live Madiba's legacy perhaps the most important starting point for me is to talk less and listen more; by talking I simply share what I already know, but by listening I will learn something new everyday.

I could definitely listen to my children more. My husband would probably have a mini-stroke at the thought of me listening to him more! And it may just change the way that I interact with my family for the better.

And what if I really listened the next time I found myself at the check-out counter by the supermarket? What if I stopped and took the time to really listen? I may just change the way in which I interact with my community for the better.

And finally, what if I listened to myself? What if really listened to my own needs, my own dreams? What if I gave the little voice behind my fears and uncertainties a moment to shine and be heard? What if I stopped and listened to my tiniest voice? I may just change myself for the better.

So the way I see it - Nelson Mandela's super power was his ability to listen. To be still and listen. To listen to himself and understand that hate would only create more hate. To listen to his people and be the leader we so desperately needed in our fledgling democracy. To listen to the children whose lives have been forever changed by his Nelson Mandela's Children's Fund. To listen to himself again when it was time for him to move out of the public eye, despite the fact that we cried "Don't go! Please... what will we do without you tata?" He knew he had laid the foundation, and he had set the example - he couldn't have done a better job at that.

So will you listen? Can I promise listen? Can we all listen to the message he gave his life up for?

I think so.

Rest in peace Tata Madiba, I have heard you.

One of my absolute favourite pictures of Madiba

Super soggy days

Thank goodness Harlan loves his wellies (he even wore them right through summer in South Africa), because we landed in the UK and just as I remembered, this place is seriously soggy. And cold. And soggy.

Despite my excitement to finally be getting out of 'limbo' and to be reunited with my husband after 6 weeks apart, I was overwhelmingly distressed at the thought of our upcoming flight to the UK - all 11 hours of it - with two small boys who have their own Life Equation now (check last week's post for the long explanation)...

Good grief was I worried!

But thankfully the flight was overnight and so it actually was simply smashing (see, I'm practicing my Proper English) - other than the fact that Harlan kept asking when we were going to get in the plane and he still refuses to believe that we flew anywhere at all, never mind to the other side of the world...

"But sweetie look," I gesture around the plane, "this is the plane. We are sitting in it."

"But where is it?" Sulky face. "Where?"

"Here... right here. Like all around us," Ummmm, and now?

So, despite the fact that Harlan doesn't believe we went on a plane and flew anywhere we are all doing splendidly (see, Proper English again) in one of the most beautiful parts of the English countryside where there must be about a gajillion trees (all very very pretty) and even then there still aren't enough of them to drink up all the water in the ground, so wellies are a must!

I think we are kinda like Vaalies at the beach in Cape Town, running into the freezing water simply because it's a beach, but all the locals know its crazy freezing? Well, we are kind like that - bundling the boys in warm jackets, gloves and hats and kinda pushing them out of the toasty house and into the freezing cold to 'explore' and 'get out' and other ridikilus things!

Here is a little taster in pictures :)

Did I mention I hate goodbyes

I dreaded our last day... I packed like a woman possessed, I ran around, I sat on suitcases to get the zips to close and prayed they wouldn't pop open halfway through the airport terminal slog to the book-in counter... I did everything possible to shut out what I knew was going to happen: goodbyes.

I just don't like them - I never know the right thing to say, and I sometimes think I must come across callous because I am just so socially inept at this one area of life: goodbyes.

That, and I didn't want to cry in front of the boys. I didn't want them to think what we were doing was in any way sad or bad or whatever... I told myself I'd save my tears for when they were safely asleep on the plane. The reality is that it was so exhausting that as soon as they fell asleep I also drifted into an uncomfortable sleep that was nothing if not welcomed by my nerve endings (I actually imagined all my little nerve endings having a big hooray and hoopla at finally being let of the hook).

See?

I can't even express my goodbyes after the fact...

Of course there are so many more friends that we said goodbye to, but these are the ones that I managed to remember to photograph ;)

Goodbye to good friends

And to my colleagues...

at Mamas n Papas

 

Goodbye to besties (we love you Nathaniel!)

and to teacher Louise

And teacher Dia

 

Goodbye to Aunty Sheri (and the baby in her tummy)

Goodbye to great granny

And goodbye to our favourite cousin Aidan

 

Goodbye to the kindest woman and our super star Dolly

 

Goodbye to Grandpa, Nana, our favourite uncle Shaun and favourite aunt Sheri

And goodbye to Grandma too (although we'll see you soon)

 

Hello aeroplanes

See you soon

We are looking forward to our new adventure!