AND THEN ALONG CAME NATHAN

My 7th grandchild and 2nd grandson came into the world at 3pm on Tuesday 15th June, 2010, weighing 3,5kgs, with a yell measuring 10 on the richter scale. (what a beautiful sound it was) I know this because Kerry, my second daughter and one of Nathan's aunts was ready and waiting to take photos (see above) and record the yells within 15 minutes of his birth with her phone! She played it for me over the phone I LOVE technology! He gave his mother a very long and hard run for her money, poor girl, nothing was as she had planned it and he was born by c section after 36 hours of labour. You in a hurry to do that again Louiza?! However, we have a good God and we have been so designed as mothers to quickly forget the bad and instantly love the little bundles that we are blessed with. Brian, my son and Nathan's dad could not take his eyes off him and I will always remember the pride in his voice when all he could say to me on the phone was "he's beautiful mom!"

Kerry was with them for both days and Brian was very grateful as he really needed the support when Louisa cried in pain and he was powerless to do anything about it.

They took him away and cleaned him up, and is he not gorgeous?

I scratched through my many many photos and found these of Nathan's dad. He was 3 days old in the top one. The second one is proud dad celebrating with his gran at 3am. You look great for 3am mom, I just love this picture!

Before Brian was born, I remember telling my gynae that I wanted an epidural. I wanted no part of an a la naturale birth. "No" came the reply, "this is your 4th so you should be an old hand at this." "I know" I said "that is exactly why I want an epidural! Didn't get it, I was cured, he was the last especially when I discovered that babies of the 80's did not come with volume controls and on/off buttons!

And the last picture? After work one day with food to prepare for the rest of the family, (this was the best part of have a late lamb) there was always someone who wanted to get to know him. In this case he is getting to know dad.

Brian and Louiza, may Nathan bring you many years of joy, it is humbling to know that this special child was given to you to take care of in every way, it is the most important job you will ever have.

It is awesome.

FATHERS DAY Hmmmmmmm....

Fathers day. There are 3 men who come to my mind.

I am 58 and am the owner of no less than 3 fathers. But I want you to see them as I do.

The first, which would be my PATERNAL father and not photogrphed here, was mostly an "idea" to my young mind. In fact he was an atrocious womanising man who had no qualms when it came to signing me away when I was 3 years old, once he discovered he would not have to pay my mom child support if I was someone else's kid. I met him once when I became an adult and felt no bond whatsoever with this man or my half brothers and sister. In fact, I decided my mom had been lucky to dodge THAT bullet. I had always wanted to satisfy myself though as to where some of my attributes had come from.

My mom married the man who was to become my ADOPTIVE father, and he is photographed above, younger than he is now! He is with my son Brian when he was a toddler. This man never treated me any different to the 2 daughters he and my mom had' 5 and 7 years after me. Not that I noticed anyway. He always seemed fair and I was secure. Thats a medal right there! I say this as I was really not an easy child to raise, and was way ahead of my time in imagination and doing that which was wrong and frowned upon. It guaranteed me a place in the minds of the residents of Thornhill's Airforce Married Quaters in Gwelo, Rhodesia for decades after I grew up (I kid you not).

He cared when I got low grades, brought home undesirable boyfriends, our constants fights about fashion "should it be below the knee or or below the pants", my plastered on make up and long fringe - it was the sixties after all - magical time for me that was.

He also gave me away on my wedding day to the man I was with for more than 30 years.

As happens in life, my mom and dad had problems of their own which manifested over time, and my mom married again, by this time I had 2 of my 4 children.

Above you will see my STEPFATHER with my mom. He was the one who became the grandfather to my 4 children and my sisters 2 children, and, how lucky can a man get, the greatgrandfather to my 7 grandchildren. He passed with flying colours! My children adore him and especially Tessni, JP, and Shanni (who call him grandpa too!) see them often as they live near one another. He has made them wooden puzzles which fascinate them, apart from having made desks and other things for my children before them.

I have known him almost as long as I knew my adoptive father as he too was in the Rhodesian Air Force and lived over the road from us at Thornhill's Married Quarters.

Now, fathers's day is upon us again, and it is time for me to reflect upon what these men have meant to me in my lifetime.

Who do you think are in my heart on this day? I will give you a hint.

It is not my PATERNAL father.

Take a bow Dad and Chris, for me, blood has not been thicker than water, you are to me what my own father never wanted to be.

SOCCER FEVAH!!!!!!!!

Personally, rugby is my game, but when I walk through the streets of South Beach, I cannot help but be bitten by the soccer bug. People are joyful, laughing, their arms are flung around one another and there is a sense of goodwill among men out there. This would not be the first time that sport has brought a nation together.

I walk along the pavements the find pictures of large orange footballs stuck to the sidewalks and wonder where they lead! Out of nowhere we have huge green and white busses on the streets with "people mover" written in bold black lettering on the side. They are everywhere.

The pavements that were being being dug up as part of the improvement to Durban's South Beach area have miraculously mended and we no longer trip over uneven pavements.

Wherever I look I see flags of all nations blowing in the wind, taxis and private vehicles are proudly displaying the South African flag, and rear view mirrors are covered in the flag colours too.

There is so much suffering and hardship in our third world countries, that my heart lifts when I see so many people of so many races and cultures all striving for the same thing, to unite in a common cause, and I do not care who wins or loses, but our efforts to get there TOGETHER and all the joy it has brought to millions of people around the world would have made all the hard work that has gone into this world cup very well worth while.

So yes, today, I have SOCCER FEVAH!!!!!

THE TOOTH MOUSE IS COMING TO GET YOU!!!

My daughter Lisa, in Cape Town, sent me this picture of her daughter, Natalia, who is 6 and has started losing her teeth! Here she is even modeling them.

It reminded me of an incident that took place when my son Brian, all grown up now, was about 4 years old.

"Gran's here" the youngest of the gang yells as he glances through the window at the sound of a car coming up our driveway. We lived in Roodepoort at the time on a gold mine.

As was normal, gran had to listen to all 4 speaking at once and responding appropriately - it is a form of self defence mothers and grandmothers learn early.

Tea and biscuits were brought as was the norm, after which the children all drifted off in different directions.

Mom says to me conspiratorally "I have a present for Brian, I could not resist buying it". My mom LOVED giving the children little gifts, it was as exciting for her as it was for the children.

He was called, and ran up to us and Gran says "LOOK what I have got for YOU!" Delighted and expectant faces were mine to witness! A very puzzled look overtook Brian's as he inspected the small box gran had given him to inspect. It had a picture of a mouse on it - I could see him think "sorry gran, you got me now".

"IT IS FOR YOUR TEETH WHEN THEY START FALLING OUT!" declares gran "Isn't it too sweet? So the mouse will know where to find your teeth and he will take the tooth leaving you some money for it!"

Brian looked stricken.

His eyes had grown twice their size - he is speechless and does not thank gran for her gift. Gran looks a little deflated. She loves the children's faces when she gives them things, not happening this time.

I don't know what just happened.

For a week Brian was on the quiet side, he would ask to look at his mouse box a few times, would examine it closely and return it to me. He never wanted to keep it.

Then one day he looked at me and asked "mommy, when all my teeth fall out, I won't be able to chew, and the box is too SMALL for all my teeth!"

NOW I know what happened. Of all the children I know, and there are many, can I have the ONLY one who thinks all his teeth will fall out at once! No WONDER he looked stricken when given the box, it explained his anxiety attack that lasted a week!

I explained how it all happened, and he was very relieved, his worried little eyes cleared with relief and I had my little boy back!

Misunderstandings between parents and children? Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!!

Thank you Lisa for bringing back the memory, and Brian still has the "mouse box" - just explain to your son, Brian, that teeth only fall out one at a time!

HE WAS THE FATHER OF MY CHILDREN

Never take for granted those you love. Life is fragile. Tell your loved ones every single day that you love them. It may be the last chance you get.

Norman was my first husband and best friend, my soul mate and the father of our 4 lovely children, and grandfather to 6, almost 7 grandchildren. He was tragically killed in a head on collision with another vehicle in bad weather conditions. He was probably the most careful driver we knew. He is mourned and will be missed by many.

Norman was a 3rd generation policeman and he fought valiantly in the Rhodesian war for the things he believed in.

He was the "major dad" of dads to his children. He earned this nick name as no job was "only for boys" and his daughters mowed the lawn and put up tents. These memories will forever be with them.

He was always active in the service of giving, a child of God and we have peace in our hearts knowing that he ran the race well and is with his maker who is well and truly pleased with him.

He left a rich legacy which will be carried on through his son and his unborn grandson.

Thank you for our time together, for the children who are such a blessing.

Your work here was done.

THE LOST CHILDREN

As a very young child I remember wanting to save the world. So I started with the bugs in the garden. I Was sure that they could not possibly be happy out in the cold and rain and that I was doing them a favour by bringing them inside in boxes and bottles. Spiders, ants and chameleons, anything that crawled. My mother was long suffering.

As I grew into my teens my passion turned to children, abused or neglected children. I did not have a plan, but a plan came into fruition as the years went by.

I married, and still had my passion, which was to show less fortunate children that there is a better life out there and to love them. My husband and I went to Nazareth House in Salisbury, Rhodesia and spoke to them. They had children who could be taken out by families for weekends. Our first experience in foster care was an 18 month old toddler, Shirley Ann. The fact that my eldest daughter's name is Shirley-Ann is purely coincidental, she had her name before we met Shirley Ann from Nazareth House. I do not have a photo of her but can tell you a bit about her.

There was a company which let out baby furniture, so we organised for a cot to be delivered to our flat on Friday afternoons and for it to be collected on Monday mornings.

We would collect Shirley Ann on Friday after work, when we arrived they were eating their supper, we then whisked her off. This set the pattern for many months. Her parents were drug adicts and alcoholics and her mother made contact with the child once in six months. As long as parents did that the child could not be adopted. Crazy hey.

She had been badly neglected and was very withdrawn. She also had a little brother Darren who was a year older than she was, and he was eventually taken out by a life long friend of mine, Veronica. We decided after some time that it would be better if they were together so Veronica and her husband took them both and kept on doing so for a very long time. But, as often happens, once the parents or parent knows that someone else is interested in their child, THEY start showing interest and demand that the child goes to them for some weekends. This confused the two so much Veronica stopped taking them out so that the mother could step in. I think of them often as they are in their 40's now -wow, and I hope that they had good lives, and happy lives. That is all we can hope for.
We went back to Nazareth House and asked if there were any other children needing a weekend home. Above you see Jenny and Darryl in trousers I made for them so that they would have things that could stay with us. They were 3 and 4 when they came to us. Jenny was a fiesty little thing, asking questions and very inquisitive. Darryl was destined to become a rag and bone man as he could always be found rummaging around in the rubbish dump behind the flats and brings in "treasures" of other peoples discarded junk and eventually had a box full of his prizes which we were to watch over during the week!

We then had children of our own, and anyone following my blogs will know just how demanding they all were and with the situation in the country being as it was, I was basically raising them on my own, so for a number of years we did not foster any other children.

We came to South Africa when they were small and once again my mind turned to foster care.

This time it was not weekends that we took children but we applied to be Place of Safety parents for children who have to be immediately removed. The social worker would telephone me and ask if we could take a child within the next 2 or so hours. These children would stay with us for up to 6 months when they were permanently fostered by a family, adopted or returned to rehabilitated parents.

Above you see Charlie, a little french boy who was 2 year old, with Shirley left, then Kerry, and Lisa on the other side of him. She was 4 and very jealous as she was the baby and now she had competition, this did not please Lisa, but she always came up with ways to get rid of poor Charlie! I heard the kitchen door slam one day and a scream from outside. Lisa was in the kitchen, door closed. "I told him to go home" she said. Well, that was new, taking in children when we had our own children who had no idea why we were doing this!

Within 6 months Charlie's mother had started to visit him on weekends, evidently rehabilitated herself and Charlie was returned to her. A week after he was gone we were watching Police File when a picture came on the screen of Charlie's mother and father. They were wanted by police for stealing a caravan and they were thought to be in Zimbabwe! We wondered why she had suddenly become this "super mom" , all was made clear! Charlie is in his 30's now.


We decided to go back to weekend foster care as we did not want any of the girls throwing these children out in the street behind our backs, so when Shirley was 8, Alice came to us. She was 9 and a delightful child with a very confusing family life. We loved having Alice and she and Shirley got on very well right from the start. She started to come to us for school holidays too and often came with on holiday,in the pic above we were camping on the Eastern Cape coast close to Port Alfred.

The story gets more complicated however, as within 2 weeks a social worker telephoned us with a place of safety child.

Matthew was the 3rd of 4 brothers all very close in age, Scots immigrant family. His mother had walked out on all of them and his father could not cope with the two youngest, so they were to be removed immediately. He was 2 and I could not say no. They brought him, with his father, who seemed as distraught as the child but as time went by never came to see him again. He had a few clothes in a black bag. Our church friends all rallied round and donated clothing for him. He still wore nappies at night, I had 2 in the bag and no pin, so they all saw to that, they truly saved the day.

He was adorable. But he was our biggest challenge.

He could not speak when he came to us but within a month we could not stop him from speaking, he was like a wind up toy with no off button.

We became very fond of Matthew and when it was time to find him permanent foster care, we applied to be his permanent foster parents. The girls fought with him no more than they fought with one another but they never told him to go home! In fact when the issue of his going to a foster home came up they all begged if he could stay.

We actually had to apply to foster him. We were "accepted". Dumb rule, we had taken care of him for 9 months by this time.

He stayed with us until he left high school. Brian, my son, was born when he was 5 years old. They were always brothers to one another, even to this day. Matthew is 28 and has a baby girl. Brian sees Matthew and his brothers often.

He was a very difficult child to raise and it often became hard. He was returned to his mother when he was 11 but she brought him back to us because she could cope with him, so with us he stayed. He was clever and successful. He is still connected to the family and I know that now he is happy.

What I would do differently? Make sure that I had the FULL support of my husband and children, because at the end of the day they were living MY dream, it was never anything they chose for themselves.

I thank them all from the bottom of my heart for letting me realise my dream of helping the lost children.

MY TWO FAMILIES....MY TWO LIFE EXPERIENCES

I have written much of my daughters and my experiences mothering these imps throughout the years, what was often stressful and horrifying then is, in retrospect funny and the memories bring a smile to my face. I even laugh at times when recalling something which could have been brought back to mind by a song, smell, or picture.

I also have an only child.

God has a sense of humour - I know this, actually, He must have a terrific sense of humour! My only child crept up on me, and what a wonderful gift from God. As I was watching my daughters grow up, become independent and slowly move away from me, I was blessed with a boy child, and what I difference I found there to be between girls and boys! Brian was like 3 children rolled into one and anyone who has a bunch of them deserves a medal! This one child had me running as fast as the girls did - or it could be that I was older and not used to it anymore??

THEIR life experiences have been very different, and mine with them as well.

A bushel of children need to learn pretty young certain rules. In the girls case and during a war, they had to learn to obey without arguing, it could save their lives. Obedience in certain situations were deal breakers. Next, if we were to go out as a family for a meal they had to learn to sit through it so that everyone could enjoy the meal and the company. I was once told that I was too strict on them and told our host that if I was not strict we would not have been able to enjoy one another's company as we just had'

For Brian, his life was very different. He learned many thing from his older sisters, they definitely contributed to his knowledge of how the world works. Without realising it they taught him CONTROL. As soon as this baby cried he had 3 willing sisters in a race to get to him first. ADORATION. He had 3 playmates and someone was always at hand to relieve his boredom, boredom just wasn't on his radar.

The girls grew into beauties (we all have them hey?) and as usually happens, boys appeared, hundreds of them traipsing through the house, drinking all the coffee and guess what that meant for Brian - more people to play with his lego with him, his cars with him and some used to come to take him to the skateboard track.

But one day, he realised that he was not the adored baby brother any longer with undivided attention, at least not since all the boys had arrived. He knew he had POWER over people and became DEMANDING to the point that his sisters, when they wanted privacy with their friends had to PAY HIM OFF to get him out from behind the couch and spying on them, or worse still, joining in the conversation. You see, they had taught him EXTORTION.

Soon I had complaints from the sisters, I had spoiled him, they had never been allowed to do THAT, he ALWAYS got his own way etc etc. (who was it did the spoiling?) Yes, I did spoil him a bit, everything about his life and theirs was different. He stayed in our bed for a year to make feeding easier. Imagine 3 babies in my bed all groping my boobs, like a litter of kittens! GOOD GRIEF.

Not long after I weaned him I discovered that he had a fraction in his blood missing without which he would have surely died as a newborn had I formula fed him. The fraction that was missing was gammaglobulin and the only things that would boost his weak immune system came from breast milk or gammaglobulin injections. He was in hospital weeks after me weaning him and this set the pattern for his pre-school years.

He was and is fearless. Something else that was a cause of great concern. Pain is a sign of something being wrong, we all know that, but his pain threshhold was very high and nearly got me into a whole heap of trouble once. When he was 2 and a half he rolled off our low bed, and the screams of pain took me quite aback. I took him to the doctor who, after ascertaining that he could not lift his right arm, ordered xrays. Upon their return the doctor inspected them, and looking at me over his glassed asked"when did he break his colar bone" "He didn't" I replied. But upon inspecting the xray, even I could see the truth of it. "This break is 2 weeks old, it is already mending" he said. He filled in a form and gave it to me, "what is this?" I asked, "body xrays" came the blunt reply. HE THINKS I ABUSE MY CHILD my thoughts screamed at me. I was mortified. There was no other damage of course and the doctor said it was procedure. But it was then that we discovered that when Brian was sick, he was probably very VERY sick. By the age of 2 and a half he had broken his nose twice, colar bone once, at 6 his arm by falling from the top of a tree, and acquired 7 stitches by diving into a swimming pool wall. He never seemed to feel the injections, LOVED to watch in fact (morbid child). He was also swimming in the deepend of the pool with the men at the age of 3, not fear of water, he just used to jump in and basically taught himself!

Now, today, the girls are still close, but they all married and have children of their own, they do not know their brother as only mothers know each of her children. Brian does not know all his sisters.

His teen years were not as happy as his sisters, but I always believed in him and knew what he was capable of. Believe in your children, be their champion because if you have a good relationship with them they will not want to let you down so they will work hard for your approval. I am glad I did, and he did not disappoint me.

I weep as my late lamb stands on the threshold of parenthood himself. His baby boy is due any day. You deserve this joy Brian.

I believe that you can do this too.