April home, business, parenting & adulting insanity

One day in my office recently I could hear birds chirping outside as I gazed over the ray of sunlight shining down onto the floors which had been freshly mopped and made the room smell like oranges. I’d just signed another client for a really exciting project, Aiden was sent to school that morning dressed in a panda suit and Jon and I had planned a nice Shabbat dinner at home that night. Life was great. Everything was in order and I actually found the following thoughts coming from my head: my biggest worry right now is whether to wear my purple or polka dot slippers today. Sigh. Life is awesome. I am so blessed


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If that wasn’t enough of a gigantic dick measuring contest with the universe, a conversation with a peer later that week definitely was. I was met with a “So XYZ says you’re really stressing with the new business? What’s wrong, not making enough money?” which totally surprised me (who even asks that these days?) and my brain went into shutdown mode and my- well, I want to say ‘heart’ but no, really it was my stupid ego- replied with an overcompensating “What?! Me? No! I’m so busy and thriving, I turned down a potential client the other day because I have enough. Also, I have some potential clients waiting in the wings if I feel like I can take on more work. Haha, no, everything is fine thanks. Just fine haha”. 

Well, blow me over with a feather. April has been a rollercoaster. A reliable client who was meant to be one of my handful of carefully selected retainers pulled out with virtually no notice whatsoever, and it came down to their internal politics, which is so frustrating. That same morning I had to prompt Jon for us to take our precious little Elvis cat to get put down after finally admitting that he was losing his battle to live through end stage renal failure. Our bathroom walls (yes, the new bathroom walls that took over 7 months to reach completion during our hellish renovations) are leaking water and you can see this through the tiles), we have a drip in our roof, our washing line has come loose, Jon’s car broke down and cost R30k to fix, and now my car is starting to not want to start. Oh, and the bloody washing machine gushed water and drowned our kitchen with every load and it’s been happening for weeks, as is evident if you look at the water-logged wood damage of the laundry room, if only the domestic helper had bothered telling us at the time.

Plus, you know, Aiden being a baby who thinks that anything in life that could possibly happen without him sucks, so is fighting sleep every chance he gets. Nearly 10 months in he’s taught himself to stand in his cot and yell the house down instead of sleeping. This happens at every nap time but especially between the hours of 8:15pm and 3:45am in the mornings. He has also decided that nappy changes are not for him and in the split second it takes for me to reach over for a fresh nappy, he’s flipped himself onto his knees and attempts to dive bomb off the compactum for maximum effect.

Of course, he’s also crawling, learning new things daily (especially how to mimic his school friends throwing tantrums) to the point of throwing down such a thrombie at school yesterday that he launched his shaking-from-side-to-side-while-screaming head right into the corner of his cot and came home with his first ever bruised egg. He keeps touching it while frowning as if it’s someone else’s fault.

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I also found myself thinking about whether it makes me a bad mother because my first thought during the phone call from the school, after finding out that he was ok, was to wonder if a mild concussion would possibly help him sleep through that night. My next step was to find this occasion the perfect excuse to wear head gear, lest anyone see my child’s bruises and think the wrong thing (“No, strange Granny, I don’t beat my child – he’s just a 10 month horror angel who has learnt how to throw a tantrum. Yes, I too, assumed we had until he was a toddler before doing such things”).

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He’s an absolute handful at the moment, and I know – everyone keeps telling us, he’s only going to get busier – but Jon and I are thoroughly enjoying this not-so-baby stage in the 3.4 seconds of the day where he’s not screaming, wriggling away or shouting from his cot because he doesn’t want to sleep. For instance, he eats with us now. He’s old enough to know what he likes and dislikes (there aren’t any dislikes for food, actually, in this regard he very much takes after his father), helps himself to food in front of him and chomps down merrily despite not having any teeth. And he has a sense of humour. He’s learnt that pulling Mommy’s hair gets a reaction that makes him giggle, he knows that when dad disappears behind the bathroom’s sliding door it’s only for a second before he’s given a fright along with the words “peek a boo!” that has his body shaking with laughter and anticipation. The cats still delight him, even though Elvis, the only one who every tolerated his squeals of excitement, is gone. Now the two remaining cats watch Aiden suspiciously from afar and split if it looks like the baby is coming anywhere near.

All in all, April has been a month of extreme exhaustion, frustration, tears, squeals of delight, excitement, challenge, joy and love. Through it all, I still have the two best guys on Team Kretzmer. And this weekend we get to take all of this to Cape Town to visit Ouma and watch uncle David get married to his Mandy.

Life is good.



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