Remember the days when you would casually glance at your watch after a day in the office and you picked up the phone to dial your hubby, suggesting a quick drink at the Waterfront after work?
But this is how it is and I know you’ll understand. You’ll have your own version no doubt.The one about wine o’clock in more ways than one,when there’s supper to cook, and homework to be done.
I see it all around though Johan thinks we’re all cooked. “Look at me!” he says when I relate a funny tale or inspirational post or mention a beautiful holiday pic on a beach- hell, that looks fab. “Look at me! “ he repeats. “See where I am and what fun I’m having” he mocks, though of course it’s all true.
We are all our own journalists in some ways, reporting on the state of things and how we like to play.
Well of course we are and why shouldn’t we be? We learnt it all from school. It’s how it all started and, it seems to be what’s cool. It started off as “show and tell” Do you remember those days? Bringing in bits of flotsam and stuff from past holidays.
Now the car drives down the driveway, with L for Learner on the back windscreen,
Now the learner’s in the driver seat, with a rap song in my ear,
It’s bound to be chaotic, the school bag has been left at the White house at school,
Mum, is it swimming or diving tomorrow? Are you going to take me up to the pool?
My phone rings and it’s Moira, we’re supposed to be at hockey dinner!
Oh for heaven’s sake, it’s the ONLY whatsapp chat that I deleted,
I have at least another 65 group chats
Is it only me, the constant sinner?
Back in the car to fetch from gym, excitement on teenage faces
Thinking about upcoming exchange and travelling to interesting places
But first tons of exams, and a few matches still to play,
No doubt, there’s still work to be done, before we can call it a day
Back home again,I’ve barely opened the front door,
“Mum, Enya’s (the boxer) knocked over the glass dish of leftover chicken,
It’s all over the floor.
And now there’s Johan holding the garden spade
And I know what he’s going to show, and it isn’t something he’s made
It’s two days worth of dog poo, and yes it’s delightful I know,
But he’s getting kind of tired of it and yes, it starts to show.
Luke’s holding a final matric exam timetable in his hands and asks if I can just check it,
I would love to and think I should if only I could see,
But this time it’s not only because I can’t find my glasses, again
It’s also because of the lump in my throat, the emotional me.
Annie is dressing-gowned and playing with the tiny monopoly set,
Oh ,that was last night’s rant, the supposed present specially bought for another birthday party I bet
Mum, don’t forget to get spare batteries for camp on Monday,
We’ve got the sleeping bag haven’t we?
Mum, I need some new pencils,
Mine keep running away.
Boooble d dink. (Well that’s what it sounds like to me), there goes my whatsapp again
Are the chino’s beige or stone for tomorrow, what’s with the blue shirt hey?
I simply can’t believe it
It’ll be valedictory day.
2 adults, 2 teens 2 tweens, 2 dogs, and 1 puppy makes nine.
It’s wonderful, it’s a privilege and I wouldn’t swop it for the world,
And I want to write it all down
It’s called #havingagoodtime
Change of pace
Looking for dummies, now it’s chai tea and honey
Holding hands, listening to school bands,
Marking tests, searching for winter vests
Blowing bubbles, learning orals
Hugging Charlie, no carbs and barley
Learning to sing, plucking violin strings
Playing hockey in the rain, going on exchange
Singing in the choir, watching grades go even higher
Bringing home the trophies, making a new friend called Sophie
Four in the car, always driving so far
Endless hours on the court, the scoring of a try
Black bikes in the drive way, Plett Rage on the highway
New teeth, new haircuts,
Now sent home from school,
‘That’s hair’s too long, son,
We should have had a car pool.
Matric dances, new sideways glances,