The remnants of summer

Sayonara sunshine.

See you in about 7 months.

One thousand five hundred bucks and one year later

Son#2 has his damn swimming diplomas!

Go Bucky!

We are proud as punch!
And so is he.
There was a definite proud swagger in his walk yesterday.
Bless!

The 4 great loves

We drove to Dishoek, on the coast.

The boys played rugby and got deliciously wet.

The husband treated us to dinner, Son#2 exclaiming that his chicken nuggets were sublime (which tells you a lot about my culinary skills).

What a wonderful place.

The only negative being that I wished my parents were both with us.

Two years ago we sat there, together.

Later we drove home as the sun dipped low.

Showers and beds.
(The shower trailed a thin line of sand: a sure sign that there had been a kid who had had fun)

A movie on TV for the husband and I.

We had a good day.

I'm afraid of dying having the boys think that their mom was evil/strict/mean.
I hope they'll know that I loved them best of all and had good intentions.
BEST of all.
I'm just weak.
Stress and lack of sleep make assholes out of people.


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Wee one

Lest we forget:

This little boy needs a LOT of love.

Even if he 'says' it with tantrums and resistance.

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C'est Le Weekend: Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious

Son#2 has his swimming exam on Sunday afternoon.

Halle-bleedin'-lujah.

The in-laws are coming over for the occasion, and that will require cleaning the house in earnest, seeing as the cleaning lady failed to show up on Monday.

Sigh.

 

 

I've been having awful heart palpitations this past week.

All this stress, and what is it in aid of anyway?

 

I made an appointment with our company doctor for next month, just to let him know that nothing much has changed post-burn-out.

Working conditions still the same, nothankyouverymuch.

If I can just make it to November.

 

We have a faculty team-building weekend in November, just after my exams, that I won't be joining.

I'm not in the damn mood.

They can go team-build without me this year.

 

I'm slowly but surely making headway with my studies, and that feels good.

Another busy week next week, but then the spinnakers can be loosened for a while.

Most of my courses I've been teaching are drawing to a close, a new one starting up.

Pretty soon it will be the Autumn Break (a.k.a. Fly To France).

 

Hummmm-hummmmmm. 

Breathe in, breathe out.

 

 

 

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Kiss kiss

There you are.

I'll be needing you today after my 3 a.m. wake-up.
One measly class to teach today, and then I'm off.

Work to do this weekend, but that will have to wait.

Petrol in my car.

A Randy Crawford CD that the husband and I crooned to last night.

Son#2 asked us a few times to turn the volume down, eventually closing the door to the dining room.

Haha.

(The tables have turned, my son)

A salary in my bank.

And I only need to pick up Son#3 at 13h00.

Bliss.

Test results on Tuesday afternoon.

Chances are that all will be fine and dandy (but then the search for the health culprit continues).

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Of course they will

Nothing lasts forever.

 

 

 

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Long Way Home

Sometimes I wonder when the time to rest will come.

Will it?

It worries me.

I sat working until 21h30 last night, after a full day's work.

I managed to cut my evening's work 'short' because I hijacked someone else's powerpoints

(and before you wonder whether I feel bad about it:  I don't).

Today is no stranger either:  I'm teaching non-stop from 9 till 5, and there is no break to be had anywhere in my timetable today.

There are small mercies.

My university assignment, the very last one for this calendar year, is only due in a week's time.

The demarcation for one of my subjects came through, severely limiting what I'm going to study (not that I'd done that much yet anyway).

The other 2 are multiple choice exams (much easier-ish to study for.

But that is November's problem.

After today's work, I just have one lesson left to teach for this week.

Last night I needed sleep, and eventually I took a sleeping tablet, or would not have been able to make it to this morning.

The recurring theme of my life.

And sometimes, I wonder what the hell it's all in aid of anyway.

Strange how both my mother and I, on opposite angles of the globe, thought the very same thoughts on the very same day.

One mustn't think too much when one is tired.

Just keep breathing.

Nice 'n slow.

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A long drive and back again

The weekend had us running around, but with good weather - in itself a bloody miracle here in the Nether Lands.
The boys had birthday parties, the parents quiet conversations, and the mother studied her butt off.
In the face of hysteria, I'm calming down. 

Yesterday, we drove 120km to the in-laws and back again.

I had wine, coffee and Limoncello (yumyum), and Son#3 pooped in his nice light beige chinos which are now most probably ruined.
Sigh. 

It is 3 a.m.-ish as I write (lately my hour of power), the alarm clock will sound in about 2 hours.
I have bad dreams every night.
Siiiiiigh.

We all have a feisty week ahead, and I need sleep.



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C'est Le Weekend: Different perspective

Same left hand:

Scene #2.

After all that damn stress, reprieve.

Siiiiiiigh.

Hullooooo weekend.

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Oh Thursday

Not exactly what I had expected.
Admitted to hospital, lying in a bed (!!).
I expected a chair somewhere, not fussing friendly nurses rolling on over with drips and plasters and vials to fill with my blood.

Two old ladies in my room with me, one deaf, the other sleeping.
They will stay but I will go.

I think of my dad and how he hated hospitals.
Is there something like hospital syndrome?
One feels sick here.

Shouldn't linger here too long with its muted sounds and harsh lights.


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Tired/Wired

Driven by an insatiable need for bacon this morning - especially of the I-didn't-have-to-cook-it-myself-variety, Son#3 and I headed off to the Ikea (here we go again).

1 Buck 50 for 7 pieces of bacon and free coffee.
Bliss.
People-watching, cheap entertain-ic BLISS.
I see the same old people there every time I go (and they probably see me too).
There is the Ipad-couple, the we-only-sit-together-and-look-at-our-phones-couple, the assorted old age home-inhabitants who stick to the same tables every time (why do people do that??  Myself included???), the man who lost a helluvalotof weight but comes for breakfast every day, the loners (like me) who stare in quietude, the racist couple who once told me that all foreigners were bad (knowing I am one, and despite that the racist husband was foreign too).
They're all there.
Ikea is a social experiment in itself. 
One day we'll wake up and someone will announce on TV:  Tadaaaaaaa!  We have the explanation for mankind.  And it was under our noses, at Ikea, all along.
Who would have thought.

First however, we had gone to the hairdresser, here in our tiny village.
A nice girl with a gentle hand - she coaxed Son#3 to sit quietly for his first ever haircut, lopping off his curls (although not nearly enough, according to his mother).

Sigh.

The shower blocked up last night, refusing to drain, and now, Wednesday late afternoon, we still have a bath and shower-bath, anxiously awaiting the uber-expensive plumber coming in the morning.
There will be no end-of-long-day-shower tonight.

My new car's back window also needs to be fixed, and the car has to go to the garage on Friday afternoon.

Son#2 had to go to the dentist this afternoon for a filling (weak glazing, the dentist said). 
Son#2's damndamndamn swimming lessons on Friday and Saturday, that we ALL detest by now.
Both Son#1 and Son#2 going to birthday parties on Saturday that will require gifts being bought.

We have bills to pay, and the company that the husband works for is struggling.
Struggling.   

I'm extremely tired - the boys were up, woken by mosquitoes at 4h45.
I wish I could just sleep an entire night and day, and not be disturbed.

An information evening for Son#2's class this evening.
I struggle through conundrums ranging from 'should I be interested' to 'will I live until this evening'.

This weekend a visit to the in-laws, one I can't get out of again, despite succumbing to stress levels and tears, flu and general feelings of giving up.
I have to study and cannot focus.

Tomorrow morning, the ACTH-test for my awry cortisol levels.
I'm too tired for words.
Too tired to even look it up - and perhaps that's a good thing, the word 'tumour' putting me off my internet search the other day.
Finishing stuff up at work afterwards.

Thank you for making it this far, dear reader.
Self-pity:  Checked off my list.
And for that my gratitude.
 

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Live a little (on a sick day)

I'm home sick today.

Coffee, bed, some studying.

Check.



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Good Advice (except for the practical side of it)

I concur.

This is the one thing I would love to give my boys, to carry for their lives.
Just do what you love doing.

With stress from work interfering with my studies and sleep and amenable moods, I have this nagging feeling way back in my mind, that we should do something different.
Something that we love.

I know I'm not alone in this, but my time in this life is diminishing, and being 'lived' as they say, will have me waking up at 65 in a few years' time.  Will it be too late then?

I love studying.
I sound like Uber-Nerd, and probably am.
But I think if I could choose one thing to do for the rest of my life, it would probably be studying.

I also love time to quietly start my day, with coffee.
I love the sea.
Adore sunshine.
Love the husband.
Live in awe of my kids.
Am one with my mother.
These things make me happy.


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This child...

...kisses me awake every morning, and tells me he will always be my darling.

What more could one wish for??

We really ought to take the boys to the hairdresser but timing it is tough.

Today, rugby and extra swimming lessons.

I might drop by my friend Karen's tonight, after all have gone to bed.

And all the tiny pockets of spare time will be stuffed with info on comtemporary crime issues, mostly violent crimes.

The parallel existence I lead.

I am, dear reader, a living time warp.

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C'est Le Weekend: Falalalaaaa

The weekend is upon us.
I have to study and work, Son#1 has a rugby tournament, Son#2 extra swimming lessons, and the husband will adapt, along with Son#3.

We went to a playground with my Kenyan friend, Karen, on Wednesday afternoon, and it was lovely to mope about our collective midlife crises.
I should read Frankl's 'Man's search for meaning' again. 
Just to put me in my place.
I digress.
The boys had FUN.

We should meet up more often, but it seems like our ridiculous schedule leaves no room for more than 1 friend a month.
And I'm not kidding.
When did life turn into this mad race?
Last night I read somewhere that the average human will be  a 120 years old by 2050.
Who would want that???
I can't even cope with next week!!

Last night I took a shower at 18h00, was asleep by 20h00.
Bliss.


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Breathing fire

Kids bugger up your stuff.

Especially anything of value, that you worked your butt off to buy in the first damn place.

Take, for instance, one of our Wassily chairs.

Sigh. 

I won't mention any names, but I think I know who did it.

He denies it vehemently, of course.

I'm slowly suffocating from the sheer amount of work and studies that I have to get done.

There AREN'T enough hours in my days.

It feels impossible, even when I accept that I'll just have to keep going, regardless.

Another thing to fix and do, thank you ever so much, Son#3, for using the Wassily chair as your personal jungle gym.

Who fixes leather anyway??

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Kapow!

A busy time awaits.

Within a month, I need to finish up my studies so I can start to prepare for the exams.

Not sure if that is even remotely possible with a busy work schedule and lots and lots of doctors visits up ahead.

 

 

But like I profess to know (at least, with my kids), if you never try, you'll never know.

I'm trying.

 

I got to work this morning, and realized that I had completely missed the fact that I have an extra class this morning.

Oi vey.

I did the only thing I could think of:

Blamed the students for misunderstanding.

Cringe cringe.

 

When in a corner, simply punch your way out.

 

 

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New ideas for life?

In desperation we came up with a brilliant idea:  Volunteering.

 

 

Three months would be doable.

My boss would surely be amenable to a short sabbatical (having suggested it himself at the height of my burn-out last year), and the husband should also be able to manage that.

We could enroll the kids in a school, I could teach English, the husband could rest.

 

There are always people who need help.
Hopefully somewhere exotic and far removed from our stressed lives, like Peru.

 

My mother gave a lady a ride to the hospital in Port Elizabeth this past week.

Her husband had sexually abused their 2 year old, who was in hospital because of it.

She had holes in her clothes, her shoes practically useless, trying to get enough money together so she could move out of the house she shares with the abusive husband-father.

She cried when my mother gave her some money.

 

Life is pretty damn tough for many people.

We ought to be kinder.

 

 

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Homesickness

Some odd reason has had me incredibly homesick this past week.

I hardly ever miss South Africa, save for my mom and brother, his wife and daughter.

But I wish I could just be there for a while.

Just taste the slower pace of life, the smells of life at home.

 

 

This week's stress at work was too much.

In the Netherlands, we have something called 'taakbelasting' which is basically a reflection of how many hours you (get paid to do) work.

I have a taakbelasting of 50%, meaning that I have a contract to work 50% of a full working week (which is 20 of the 40 hours a full week's work entails).

But being in the educational sector, you must know that you work in your free time - a lot.

This first quarter though, my taakbelasting is already well over my allotted 50%, and I'm working more hours than I'm supposed to.

This is what got me into my burn-out last year.

Sigh.

 

I begrudgingly sat marking the 80-something papers last night.

Every year I vow to do things differently at work, but every year, just before the summer holidays, I'm so knackered that anything of importance just floats in and out of my mind again, nary any recognition of repercussions.

Things I like about my job at the moment are the holidays and my salary.

Doesn't bode well, methinks.

I still have the rest of the marking to do, and then lessons to prepare.

 

The kids are happy, but the husband and I both miss something significant in our lives.

A different pace of life, more peace, more freedom.

It's that difficult toss-up:   Do we keep living this life to give the boys a solid, comforting basis, or do we move to warmer climes and slower times so we can live too?

 

Some days you just need your mother.

 

C'est Le Weekend: The Loom Limbo etc

The busy week ain't over yet.

I studied most of today, but started feeling sick by late afternoon.

In between studying, I mowed the lawn, did the laundry, cooked an unsatisfying dinner and ate grapes.

Son#3 pooped in his underwear and by the time the husband came home, I was knackered.

Son#2 went to bed kicking and screaming.

Then Son#3 pooped in his underwear - again - and I went to bed.

But Son#1 came to 'loom' in bed with me.

I continued to study, his contented humming lulling me to peace.

On Saturday, the husband and I have date.

We'll take the new car which is wonderful.

WONDERFUL.

I can vouch for an Alfa Romeo after this experience.

I never thought that I would EVER drive a car like this.

Contented sigh.

I have a lot of marking to do and lots of lessons to prepare this weekend.

The stress hits me in my neck and a short fuse, both things which I abhor.

One thing at a time, Yo.

New Car#2

My students (about 80 of them) are writing a diagnostic test this morning - and here is the bad part:  It needs to be marked.
Before next week.
Oi vey.
I can't just chuck it in the bin.

But it is all in good humor:  the husband and I are fetching my new vehicle this afternoon.
Woohoo!

After picking up the boys, we'll zip off to the Ikea to celebrate.
They have PlayStation games in the restaurant, which roughly translates into 'a quiet moment for the husband and I to actually finish an entire, full sentence without interruptions'.

I'm running behind a bit on my studies, and need about 3 extra hours per day to catch up.
Boy oh boy, but I miss the days of my burn-out.


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Haaaaaallelujah!

It has been such a busy, busy day so far, but I survived.

The director of the faculty seems placated for some reason (without my stirring), I had lessons that went well, introductions for the new students, running from campus to campus, copying gazillion manuals and sneaking tampons to a female colleague in need in our open-plan, male-infested offices.

 

 

Almost time to head on home.

 

Son#1 drove off in a huff this morning, refusing to greet us.

Son#2 returned home with an asthma attack.

The poor husband didn't have a chance to even have breakfast, and I was already gone with tantrumic Son#3 to daycare and on to work.

The dramas of the modern family.

 

As I walked into my office this morning, it struck me how this past year has been a year of 'firsts' too - every day, in fact.

This is the first 1st of September without my dad. 

Does it ever get better?

A wonderful student who lost his dad to pancreatic cancer last year - diagnosis to his death within 2 months, told me how his mother struggles. 

Life doesn't really give one the opportunity to process it, and perhaps that is a good thing too.
Perhaps it gets better along with the living of one's life?
The cliché 'learning to live with it' doesn't promise that everything will be A-Okay at some point, does it?
And we learn, every day.

 

Tonight, studying, kissing husband and kids, and then to bed, hoping for sleep.

Have a GOOD week, dear reader.

 

 

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