Lessons From My First Year of Marriage

I may not be the most qualified person to give advice on this topic… But I think that my 10 and half month’s worth of experience is enough. Granted it’s not long enough to make me sound like a guru of any kind or even provide you with enough philosophical insight to make me seem vaguely perceptive. However, having said all of that, I have come to learn a few things and it would be a crime not to share the smidgen that I know.

1. Accept that things will be different

No matter how much you profess that marriage will not change you and how much your heart is still the same single and otherwise, the fact of the matter is that things have changed. As a person you do not exist in a vacuum. There are external (and sometimes) internal forces always at play. You can both ignore them and be miserable that life isn’t the way you wanted it to turn out. Or you can put your big girl panties on and learn to work around them. When my husband and I moved to Cape Town to be closer to his ailing mother I didn’t fully realize how much our time together will be interrupted by family business. We spent all our time seeing to her medical and social needs. It easy to come out second to a terminally ill mother but we made sure that we did all her errands together. I guess I was lucky that we were both not working. And even though things were markedly different, we made sure that we always had each other in sight.

2. Cook the books

Now everybody knows that men don’t like being broke. It makes them feel like they are not doing enough to take care of their family. So I figured if I wanted to endear myself to my husband that I better put my accounting skills to use. Mind you I hated accounting at school. But this was something that I had to do… Anyway, my husband had indirectly given me control of the finances; if he wanted to buy new takkies (aka sneakers) he’d ask me first. I thought this was weird at first. I’m like hello! Why does he feel like he needs to run everything by me…? But I soon realised that he wanted me to be aware of what was happening to our finances. So I kinda went one up and decided that I will cook the books. I bought a file and kept all our bills and slips therein and started an income statement. I decided that a budget wasn’t good enough if we didn’t take account of how we actually spent the money at the end of the month. I’ve since learned that we actually spend R500 on bread. So to save money we bake some of the bread we need during the month. And I’ve also learned a man who saves money is a happy man.

3. Adopt a pet

Now this might seem like a strange piece of advice… But there is something about taking care of a pet that makes people less selfish. We didn’t have to buy a dog as my husband had one when he left home. Helping him take care of his dog, Kaido, which is now my dog too has been such a blessing to us both. We have something that we can do together that always brings us joy. I have an idea what kind of father he’ll be just from watching him take care of Kaido. And even if we couldn’t have children I’m assured that he’ll take care of me too when/if I become incapacitated. I’ve also come to realise that he’s the fun one and I’m the one who’s a disciplinarian. Ultimately seeing how sensitive he is to Kaido’s needs has re-affirmed to me that I made the right decision.

Now my list is not very extensive. But then again, I get bored reading a long list of things to do. I’ve just focused on the few that have made a difference to me. Like a said earlier, it’s just a smidgen.

The Best Things in Life are Supposedly Free; Education Not So!

There is an interesting discussion going on on Twitter this morning sparked by Lebo Mashile. She tweets: “A colleague said she spends nearly 100k on private schools for 2 kids under the age of 8. That is a new car every year! WTF?!” Lebo Mashile also voices her concern about the projected cost for her child when they enter grade 1 in 6 years to come. I must say her concern is a valid one.

A parent has three options for educating their child in South Africa. You can opt for a local government school. You can also opt for private school. A few parents are brave enough to go for home schooling. Whatever option you go for, the general consensus is that a good school costs money.

The cost of school fund – tuition costs paid in by parents – is a multi-factorial thing. The Department of Education zones schools according to the economic situation of the local residents. A school that falls in an affluent zone receives a lower subsidy – aka fees – compared to a school in a poorer zone. It is possible therefore to find a fully subsidised school at one end of a location and one that is partially subsidised at the opposite end. In a school that is partially subsidised, the School Governing Body (SGB) decides on the school fund. Here comes the trick. Parents in poor areas cannot afford a high school fund and at times R100 p.a. is a high order for many folks. In more affluent areas a cheap school can cost a parent at least R12 000, and that is a modest estimate. Parents have been known to pay in R30 000 and more p.a. to a government school. I don’t even want to fathom the cost of private school tuition, but I’ve heard parents mention R100 000 per annum.

I could stop writing here because I’m sure it is plain for all to see that South African kids are not all experiencing the same creature comforts at school. While some schools hardly have enough to meet administrative needs, the biggest concerns in some schools is whether or not to get an astro turf for the hockey team. Some schools have 1 teacher looking after a classroom of 50 hungry kids. In another school the SGB can afford to pay for extra teachers and thereby have better teacher-pupil ratios. Pupils in poorer schools also have to contend with ill-equipped teachers who are struggling to understand the work they are supposed to be teaching. These teachers also have their own personal problems, like debt and family issues which often are manifested in the classroom by teacher absenteeism amongst other things. Affluent schools are in another ball game. They have paid librarians, laboratory assistants, gym masters, cafeterias and school shops that sell souvenirs! Some private schools on the other hand have helipads and shuttle services to the airport. The differences are large and pronounced.

While there are poor schools that achieve impressive matric pass rates, the common belief is that a school with better infrastructure and more teaching staff have more to offer the pupil. There are a myriad of extra-curricular activities to choose from. Science Club, Debating Club, Chess Club, Environment Club and other clubs where pupils meet after school do not only supplement what is being taught in class. These clubs and societies also open up doors that lead to informed career choices, teach kids interpersonal skills, and give the kids the opportunity to develop leadership skills. In essence the pupils get life skills that prepare them for adult life.

While parents don’t mind making sacrifices to in order for their children to have better opportunities, parents are concerned at the high costs. Indulge me for a moment… When I was in Grade 8 my parents paid just over R2 000 for my tuition that year. This increased steadily over the years and by the time I was in Grade 12 my high school tuition was over R8 000. It is now 10 years since and my sister is in Grade 12 in the same high school and her tuition is now just over R18 000 for this year. Now I’m pregnant and in 18 years time my child will be in Grade 12. I’m afraid to extrapolate the cost for when that time arrives.

At present I’m not going to tackle the inequalities that exist between schools. Whether spending a fortune on tuition is equal to better matric results and a balanced young adult is a debate for another day. However, I want to acknowledge that access to good education will bankrupt some families. Something has to be done. I’m not sure what yet. I’m sitting here with my belly and wondering what kind of options my child will have in the future. One thing is for certain though, I have to start saving.

All Hail Abigail George

Today I wish to bring to you’re attention a gifted and brilliant poet. She was born in Port Elizabeth during apartheid times. She matured during at the dawn of the new democracy. Her work however, reveals that as a very sensitive child she might have grown to experience and understand things on a higher plane and paradigm than other children her age.

I first came to know of Abigail in 1997 when I befriended her sister. At first it was cool to learn that all three of us shared a birthday. I was exposed to her work before I met her in person. Her sister would often bring magazines that had published some of Abigail’s poetry. It was such a treat because in my eyes she was an instant celebrity author.

As I got to meet with her over the years I became grateful to know her. She always seemed to understand whatever troubles I was facing. She never really offered any advice now that I think about it, but it was always so refreshing to know that someone out there understands. Which, I promise you is a big deal when you are a teenager or a young adult still struggling to decipher the code of life.

Abigail doesn’t just deserve an honorary doctorate for being my tender shrink. She is worthy of an award for living life. She completed some of her high school in a foreign country, has worked in the film industry. She has travelled and seen exotic locations. I think it is art of living that has allowed her to experience adventures that made it possible for her to write so beautifully and eloquently. She writes in such a delicate manner which unavoidably transports you into her world.

That being said, I would love to introduce you to her anthology of poems “Africa, Where Art Thou?” with the following poem: 

Africa, where art thou? A collection of poems by Abigail George.

Fire in Bosnia 1992

The international press talk
In tongues reminiscent of old
Breathe air through iron lungs
Here the colour of death is bold.
 
War wounds are like stigmata
Earth signs pale in comparison
They wash over you like a downpour
Of rain over a suit of armour.
 
Residents in a crumbling community
Are much like a sculpture
An ethereal intrusion
In the eye of the beholder.

This book promises to be a valuable addition to your personal library. It has received raving reviews and a few have been added below. The book is available directly from the publishers, Drum Beat Media. Alternatively you can email the author, Abigail George, directly at abigailgeorge@isat.co.za

Abigail George writes with the sensitivity that touches all who devour her poetry.

KHANYILE MLOTSHWA, writer and journalist, Sunday News Bulawayo, Zimbabwe

In this collection of small and large framed poetry are portraits capable of lingering for a long time.

AHMED MAIWADA, poet, literary critic, Nigeria

Penetrating…profound…intense…grave…

            DORELLE ISAACS, educationalist, South Africa

Pray for Japan

I'd planned to write something about my life this week but with yet another earthquake to hit Japan, I realised there are more important issues than my venting to express. With an estimated twenty-five thousand dead and one hundred and fifty thousand more displaced without proper shelter, food, blankets, medical aid and sanitation amongst many needed things, I had to take a moment and think about someone else this week.

The people in Japan are left in such a seemingly hopeless situation as a result of a handful of powerful earthquakes, more than 400 aftershocks, a devastating tsunami and a nuclear fall out. All this within a month. I'm left flabbergasted and wondering how do people maintain their resilience after so many set backs. It all seems so hopeless and like such a done deal. Every time the Japanese try to get up they get knocked down. What the hell!? My fear is very exaggerated but I wonder if that island won't disappear into the ocean. I mean hello!

But then again, how many of us face the same challenges as Japan but on a more private and personal scale? Life is never fair. Some people will face more than other while others seem to sail around stormy personal turbulances.... All the time. Many are bogged down with depression, sadness, hopelessness, aloneness, heavy burdens and darkness all around. Unfortunately for many they send many signals out asking for help and the signals get scrambled somewhere where the birds fly and never arrive at the intended destination. Some arrive unscrambled but unfortunately the receiver is of the hook or the decoder is out of commission. Many others don't even know how to start voicing their hurt and insecurities.

Today I wanna say that like Japan with it's natural disasters broadcast the world over, I am aware of your pain however private and insignificant you may think it is. I am aware that you have personal struggles. I am aware that you face losses. I am aware that you feel lost. I am aware that nobody cares. I am aware that nobody has your back. I wanna tell you that as I pray for Japan tonight, I pray for you as well.

The In-laws are Here

I was in tip top shape when I woke up this morning. After a good thirty minutes had lapsed I noticed the early warning signs of a looming headache. Doom just enveloped me. I hate headaches... Especially early morning ones. Chances are good that the headache will last a great part of the day. As I lay in bed watching my husband sleep I realised that this tension headaches was due to the in laws visiting for the weekend!

We have a do this weekend in honour of my late mother in law; a thoroughly wonderful person. So for the do to be successful, some in laws have or will be descending down to Cape Town for the weekend. It is sort of a last gathering to say farewell. I guess it's also a show of hope that everyone has accepted her death and will be able to move on from this point forward with some semblance of peace. Now I know you can't put a time frame on grief and that's not the point here either but rather the spirit of the whole event. I won't be lured off into a tangent now. We'll discuss death, grief and time in the future. In laws for now...

While I was still grappling with the headache, a tummy ache arrived to spur me on! Oh man... This is quickly becoming a bad day. I wondered... Why am I getting so sick? Why am I so stressed? I'm not sure what the answer is, however I'm sure it stems from not knowing each other well. Also, I'm never really sure what's expected of me. I hate being criticised without cause, especially if certain protocols weren't explained to me. And oh man, believe me when I say Xhosa culture is full of protocols... And I have a more western disposition. Add to that my dislike of contention. I'm not used to it. When I am confronted with conflict I usually take the altruistic approach. I sacrifice myself and play dead! Hahahahha true... I only get feisty with people who are exceptionally close to me. *wink wink*

So ja! That's my fate this weekend. I AM looking forward to one particular in law though; my sister :) She is after all my husband's in law hehehehehehe.
Sent via my BlackBerry from Vodacom - let your email find you!

Sunshine in my Heart

For the first time in what seems like ages I woke up and I wasn't feeling sick. Yes, just like that, the morning sickness disappeared :) Guess who's gonna be smiling for days! My breasts felt heavy as always, but I can live with that.

It's been close to seven weeks of hell! Each morning filled with so much dread. I was beginning to hate my life because all I did was complain and go on and on and on about how sick I've been feeling. I'd spend days in bed. Mind you I'd get up, make up the bed and curl on top of it. Almost always around lunch time. I did this because... I don't know why. It just felt better than staying under covers all day long. My only purpose was to make sure I mastered enough strength to make that bed. It always felt like such a gigantic achievement, especially since at times it'd take and hour to accomplish that simple task...

Yeah! Pregnancy is not for sissies... Today I'm up nice and early... By up I mean I'm actually out of bed! I'm dressed; not washed yet. And I've already had a marshmallow Easter egg :) It sure feels good to be me today!
Sent via my BlackBerry from Vodacom - let your email find you!

Family Bonds

There's a sitcom that plays on local TV called Family Bonds. I don't watch if often, but when I do I got always get a good laugh. The family is such a mismatch of different characters it's borderline dysfunctional. It kinda reminds me of the family I grew up in.

I grew up in what would be classified as a neutral family. Father and mother lead the home and children are supposed to follow. I'm the oldest of three, but somehow at first glance people always assume I'm the last one to join the family. I've a younger brother and sister; I've had to learn to say younger since they aren't little anymore and plus they both look bigger than me now! Over the years we've owned a few dogs which we loved dearly. Kinda sounds like a boring bunch right!? Well we're far from it...

Mom and dad are a totally couple. I don't understand how they survived this long. Dad's a total nerd! Mom's an undercover nerd, but she has this overpowering exuberant personality to mask the nerd in her. You'll often find dad reading a newspaper or listening to radio news all by his lonesome. He likes it like that. My mother will never be caught dead all by her lonesome. That woman thrives on company... She thrives on talking. I'm not sure why she never went into radio broadcasting because my ma can talk the hind leg off a donkey! You don't have to answer back really, just be there so she can talk to someone. My dad on the other hands speaks only to tease my mother... She still doesn't get his humour so she goes into a frenzy and he chuckles quietly. He also only speaks to say something important, but my mother must be busy elsewhere or else she will try to finish his sentences... I think mama is like an electron that's too easily excited.

My brother and sister are also weird. My sister is the only person who's not a morning person. When she was a baby/toddler my dad had to sing a song to wake her up! My nerdy dad actually figured out that if he sang to her this song he made up that's open up her eyes! My sister was such a diva... Nowadays her body wakes up in parts. Before she gets out of bed we must wait for her right let, left arm, eyes, wrist and other body parts to wake up! Yeah... She's a real diva. My brother's not one to be left in the dust... He's the resident Rock Star! The whole neighbourhood knows when he's awake! He pumps the volume up, doesn't matter the song, and he sings along! Every morning it's like that. But at night when he wants to study, he wants the whole house tjoop still. It's annoying really. I'm not sure how our family survived all that torture, we couldn't even whisper because it was too much noise... All in all, he's a well adjusted person and so is my sister. My brother and sister are very compassionate and caring young adults.

Me on the other hand am surprised that I turned out so well. I was a tyrant growing up. I always challenged authority, my parents. I had an answer for everything. I always had the last word. And once I wrote my folks a letter telling them I'm leaving the house and going to join a new family. Stupid me I gave them my new address... And then I fell asleep before I could live. They found the letter on their bed and me in my bed fast asleep... Bummer! It also didn't help that I lacked a healthy helping of inhibition and I didn't know what getting embarrassed meant. I once danced on stage and my dress came apart; I carried on dancing. I blew into the trachea of a sheep to simulate breathing in biology class when the teacher was away. I also picked up a fresh dead pigeon and put it inside my blazer so I could scare my friend at school. As you can tell I was never bored...

Now here I am all grown up with a family of my own. A husband as quiet as my dad... Well he talks sometimes. And we've a kid on the way. We won't know till the baby's born if it's a girl or a boy. I'm really excited but worried the baby will grow up to be like me. I'm not sure I have the kinda patience my parents are endowed with. I'm still not sure if I can hold a tiny person in my arms. I told my mom I'm sending my baby to a school for deaf kids; it will be so much better if the back-chat in Sign.

Right now thought I'm thoroughly grateful for my husband. He's the sane one in our relationship. Every time I stress he just says: 'It's okay baby, there's a reason why a child has two parents'. Aaaaah! Instant calm nerves. He's a gem. I'm looking forward to the future and can't wait to see what blend of mismatched personalities will strengthen my family bonds.
Sent via my BlackBerry from Vodacom - let your email find you!

Tweet This

Hey guys... I finally got a twitter account. It would be so cool if you would follow me. You can even ask your friends to follow too. You know Twitter's the only place you can follow a stranger and not get arrested for it! It's kinda like the beach; the only place people walk around in their undies and everyone thinks it's cool!

Anyway, here are some reasons why it's cool to follow me.
- I know the difference between "their, there and they're"
- I know the meaning of discombobulation
- When I smh I will let you know if it's long the x-axis or y-axis
- I don't mind when you eavesdrop on my conversations
- btw, I dnt hv time 2waste on krptk msgs
- And it's okay if you wanna ask me questions, I'll reply to them.

If for some reason you don't have twitter, just sign up at www.twitter.com, it's FREE. It's also very easy to use and you'll get the hang of it soon enough. Have a good day my tweeps! See you on twitter soon :)
Sent via my BlackBerry from Vodacom - let your email find you!

I Know I Can!

Hmmmp... I'm suddenly lactose intolerant! Who would have guessed? Thanks be to my baby for all of these changes... Now I can't eat all my favourite things... No milk, ice-cream, mphokoqo (traditional dish), lasagne, mac and cheese, no bran flakes, no yogurt, no yogi-sip, no custard, no pudding! None of the things I really love to eat...

Dang! Being pregnant is no child's play... You know it took a while for me to realise my new condition... A few weeks actually. I'm really slow sometimes but then again, nobody has so many milk products in one go. So when it finally clicked I went into a little panic...

I mean... What am I going to eat now? I'm already having a horrible time trying to get the best possible healthy diet... But then it hit me, my baby is going to have brittle bones! Oh my :( he/she can't grow well to be big and strong without proper calcium supply! So about and hour or so ago I rushed to the pharmacy for calcium supplements.

I feel a little better now. However I've just realised that parenthood has already begun! It begins long before the baby is born. Everything I do, or fail to do will affect the baby. Whether the effects be adverse or good, I'm the one who decides... Aaaaah! PRESSURE! But you know what? I know I can...
Sent via my BlackBerry from Vodacom - let your email find you!

I Bruise Easily

Last night a mosquito kept on gunning for my face and I'm not sure how many times I whacked myself silly trying to shoo it away. I'm too nervous to check out my face in the mirror but I'm sure I am a picture of a classic domestic violence case... And all this is the result of unbelievably hot summer nights...

For the last few days it's been like hell's kitchen in Cape Town. My husband jokes and says that if he owned both Cape Town and Hell, he's rent out Cape Town and go live in Hell... Yup! That's how hot it is over here... In Xhosa, my mother tongue, we have a saying that loosely translates as "even fish can't stand the water on hot days like this". Now, if fish can't stand their traditionally cool environment, how am I at 9 weeks pregnant supposed to survive in a body with an Increased internal temperature...

I'm a walking furnace I tell you... I can't stand being in my own body on a cool day and now this... During the day I fan myself but it makes my husband cold at night. So off it goes at night. I fail to understand why he wants it off because his body temperature is sooo high! Yeah ladies, my husband's HOT :) And guess what! He gets all shy every time I tell him so... Isn't he just adorable :)

Okay, back to the topic at hand *clears throat*. I think I need to invest in some good foundation. Hiding the marks is going to be much easier than having to explain the self-inflicted wounds on my face.... Aaaaargh! Why does summer have to be soooo brutal!
Sent via my BlackBerry from Vodacom - let your email find you!

Skating on a Thin Line

I’m watching a show call “Hoarders”. It’s about people that suffer from the compulsive need to keep stuff. They keep meaningful stuff, dirty stuff, hazardous stuff, precious stuff, ugly stuff, cute stuff, any kind of stuff really. These people have a need to keep tangible reminders of their lives, often to the detriment of their lives. The effects are often devastating. Yho! If you haven’t seen this show you should. It’s shocking. There’s a thin line between keeping memorabilia and hoarding. Hoarding is a mental disorder that I’ve just recently heard about… well for as long as I’ve known about this show. It’s actually made me grateful for my mother.

I think I have hoarding tendencies. Growing up, I wanted to keep reminders of everything I did. I would paste chocolate wrappers on the wall… and letters… and comic strips… and newspaper clippings… and anything really that would stick up to the wall. I also had boxes where I kept letters, gifts, invitations, serviettes, ribbons, pins, stickers, elastic tags and anything really that would fit in the boxes. It didn’t end there! I was very attached to all my clothes and shoes. I don’t think mama liked having all that clutter in her house.

Every now and then mama would come and sit on my bed and ask about the things I kept and considers mementos of my life; memorabilia I could not imagine living without. The usually tactful person that she is would disappear and she would very brutally ask when do I plan to throw away some of that junk! Often she would visit with a refuse bag and we would systematically comb through my precious memories, laughing as we go along and into the black municipal bag my memories would go. Clothes and shoes would go to people she knew were needy and the rest to the municipal dumping site. This kinda visit would happen as often as mama saw fit, most of the time I hated them.

I soon realised when I left the house for university that I went back to my old ways… I didn’t have mother to pay me unwelcome visits. The freedom to keep what I wanted was exhilarating. I got a high  This wasn’t without its troubles. My roommates didn’t share the same enthusiasm for keeping mementos and my side of the room was more often than not a sight for sore eyes and distressing for most people. I felt sorry for them. I’m not sure how or when things changed. I’ve recently noticed though that I don’t keep things as much as I used to. I periodically empty my closet and give away clothes I’ve not worn in a while. I do the same with my husband. I don’t give away shoes as much as clothes because I kinda like shoes… but I’ve had all my shoes stolen before. So I guess fate took care of that.

Since watching this show on hoarding I’ve realised that there are better ways to keep memories alive. After all this time of being mad at mama I feel grateful for her consistency. Her gentle persuasion, and the show “Hoarders”, have made me aware of the dangers that can develop from having an unhealthy attachment to stuff. An alternative that is safe and also effective is a must. Currently I keep a journal. Okay, I’ve kept a journal for a while now but I guess it wasn’t enough. So to satisfy my need to keep memories alive in a form other than word I’ve toyed with the idea of scrap-booking and/or a picture collage. I think this would allow me to keep all the bits that were stuck on walls and tucked in boxes in a manner that is easy to display. There more I think about it, the more convinced I am… so this weekend I think I will buy a scrap booking kit for myself. I think one book year is enough to document my family’s history…

I'm Back!

Hello hi :)

Oh sorry guys for leaving without a word... My life has seen some drastic changes over the last few months, including relocating to a new part of the country, my mother-in-law's passing, my dad having renal failure and my mom suffering from lower abdominal pain that doctors can't diagnose.

There has aslo been some good news. My husband finally got a job after one year of unemployment... *smiling for days* We have just bought a new car... well... it's new to us :) My mother shows no sign of cancer (sometime last year they found some precancerous cells). I'm starting to enjoy being a housewife; I still have no idea what it all entails. I got a dog too simply by virtue of marrying a man who had a dog :) I must say Kaido, the dog, is the most wonderful of companions! Lastly, but not least, I have a family and we are still trying to identify our identity. It's exciting times for a newly wedded couple!

I've just come back from an Awards Evening at the local prison. I was accompanying my husband's cousin's husband. I hope that makes some sense. All in all it was good evening. There was a lovely jazz band and the food was delicious. I think I ate too much. I feel heavy!

Anyway.... I've been promising myself for a while now to come back to the blog. I feel like I need this outlet. I need to share and get some worries out of my chest. You know the old addage: " A burden shared is a burden halved". And so it is with me. It's therapeutic for me to talk about my life and the things I experience. I hope I'll be more faithful to writing as I was in the past. Good night for now. I need to chill with my husband and unwind!