They said I should write a book

I lived my life as a girlfriend, THANKFUL for the narcissistic love bombing. It felt like true love, not an attempt to trap me. I didn’t even know love bombing existed when I was 18! I even mentioned it in my vows. “Why do I love you? It must be because of the ways you show me that I matter so much that you put my needs above yours. It must be the way you move so that you sit next to an open window in the cold wind, so that I am shielded from it… It must be because you care about my wants as if they are your very own.”

Little did I know that as soon as the wedding was done, that would end. By the time we got back to the UK less than a month after those vows, back to the UK where we’d BOTH worked hard and saved rent and flat deposit, the real woman he was married to made her mark. She’d stolen our money.

And he did nothing.

Suddenly, I wasn’t even a factor in his life. His mommy, living with her married lover, was the real wife. (See my channel on maternal son enmeshment.)

And I kept quiet. I had nobody to tell. My high school friends said I was too religious. My church friends weren’t close to me. I had no loving family to talk to. And I had not yet met the other sister in law again after the wedding (that actually never happened. If you watch my videos I mention how I was told I’d be a bridesmaid, had my hair undone by the mommy even though the bride -and the other bridesmaids-said my style was perfect for the wedding and I had said to leave my hair alone. The wedding didn’t happen because the families had done everything as it should be done but then last minute, bride’s family said she’s not allowed to marry so she ran away to go to the country the mommy and son lives in. But then her family arrived on the day of the wedding and because she wasn’t yet 21 which was the legal marrying age in her country, it was a fake wedding and even before the reception, her family put her in the car and took her back to her country.)

Trapped by a Christian marriage that only allows adultery as a reason for divorce, to a non Christlike husband.

I kept quiet over the years for a very long time. Not because I accepted being treated like I’m nothing, but because I was praying and hoping. After all, if you TEACH the truth surely you want to live it? He would tell men at family camps to say something complimentary to their wives every day while never doing it even weekly for me. Surely we just needed time to grow.

Instead, I finally got a reason but no way out. Infidelity. Still I kept quiet.

Until probably two years ago. All these years since 1999, I’d kept quiet when I was spoken to like I am an idiot. I never said, “Do you see you were wrong?” But that silence didn’t lead to anything but my erasure in the family as a mother and intelligent human. So I spoke.

Note in the call above in the photo for help they mention Shoprite and Checkers? These are two well known supermarkets. The company brand Shoprite owns both supermarkets. One day, as we drove past Bayside Mall during renovations, there was a sign on the outside of the building. Besides the usual shop names – Checkers, Markham etc, they had also put up a Shoprite board. I commented, “Oh! There’s going to be a Shoprite and Checkers here now!” He replied, “You do know that Shoprite owns Checkers and Shoprite!?”

I replied, “Yea. I know that. But they aren’t going to advertise the parent company on the mall! They are going to add the shop!”

Him, “I work in retail. I know what I’m talking about.”

And that day, I decided I was done being quiet. My quiet never led to humility and asking for forgiveness. It never led to confession for being wrong. So why!? Why demean myself, dim my intelligence, make myself seem stupid or accepting of the psychological abuse? No reason!

I waited. I bided my time. I knew I’d eventually get the proof, seeing as, as ever, my word was meaningless to him. Finally, the renovation of the Mall was complete. I went to Markham to collect a parcel and went down one corner then to another part of the mall. I took photos. Shoprite supermarket and Checkers supermarket.

I sent the photos together with the words, “I may not work in retail, but we laypeople have sense too. Please don’t treat me like I’m stupid ever again.”

The underwhelming reply

“Ok”

No matter how conciliatory you are, as soon as you stand up for yourself, narcissistic men lose their minds. You’re just a trophy. You’re not meant to think independently! You’re not ever meant to make them realise they are not perfect! In their minds, they are always right and your job is to keep showing them they are always right.

And so, he was right in being unfaithful over two periods in 2016 and is right to still be in a relationship with the same woman since 2022. Perfect. Even in sin. Perfect even when God frowns. And his fellow misogynistic church leaders think exactly the same way. Women are not allowed to think for themselves and be independent minded. All men are perfect. Only women do wrong.

The first time I spoke up, showed me the lack of character. No apology. No humility. No recognition of innate intellect and common sense. And I’m tired of playing the part of a silent cipher. But I’m trapped. You can’t don’t a single income up when you have university fees. One is R78 200 and the other is close to that.😩 Not sure if that means I will have to live with the worst IBS-C flare of my life until I am free. It’s bad. Really bad and as I said in another post, not going away! And what triggers flares? Stress.

Now to figure out what we can give to the victims of the fire. My children were shocked by its spread. It was small when they passed it in one direction. When they were returning home, it had spread dramatically, even jumping over the road to homes on the other side. Dunoon is a very low income township- many shacks were burning badly. Helicopters had to be called in. So to hear that they saw a weeping woman, crossing the street with her only salvageable possessions in a tiny pink suitcase broke my heart just like it broke Amarissa’s. Does she even have a job? Was she still job hunting like many are?? Did she get her documents? How will they rebuild?

May none of my pain ever make me blind to the plight of others. May my children see action where possible so they never lose the ability to empathise with those who are weeping. May they have characters from Christ.

Reader, my rheumatologist never discusses side effects of the medications she gives me. None at all. Not of the pain meds, muscle relaxants, antidepressant for nerve pain, anti inflammatory, nor the big guns we use to try slow the disease down and reduce the disease burden. Never. Except for protecting my stomach with an extra medication as I have chronic gastritis so my anti inflammatory is a problem even more for my already ravaged stomach lining. I understand why, because not taking the medication and the biologics or as in my case now, JAK inhibitors means faster death and before that, disability. So it’s a no brainer. But still…

I knew Sulphasalazine was bad for you and to avoid the sun, but in April it will be a year on Rinvoq. It could have been a year of not knowing that you are meant to avoid the sun! Why? Rinvoq raises the risk of skin cancer and lymphoma. Do you know how scary lymphoma is to me? And it’s so difficult to detect early. It’s bad enough AS itself raises cancer risk anyway and like in my case, has attacked my lungs and kidneys. But now the meds increase other different cancer risks.

Skin cancer. I was checking out my Facebook feed – if I removed you it’s because you’re not acting like a friend and what I’m currently sharing on there is only for friends -and I came down to a post in my Rinvoq support group. And that’s when I found out about the skin cancer. I already have a mole I always knew I should keep an eye on. But though I’ve known to check it since I was a teenager, I haven’t been diligent. I did once take a photo of it -it’s right by my ear so I don’t see it daily, I remember it when it’s itchy which is rarely-but I don’t know where that photo is! And right now it’s dark so any photo I take now while I remember to is going to be unclear.

The woman in the group was asking if it’s ok to use a tanning bed before she travels to a very hot island so she can darken nicely in the sun even though she knows to not be in the sun. Now that, to me as an African who uses nothing to change her appearance, was already a bad idea anyway. Tanning beds are a no no for anyone! And to darken nicely in the sun you should first darken yourself unnaturally? I had no idea that was even a thing white people do. I got plenty dark when we visited my grandparents in their mountainous village without any tanning in a bed first! (And my mother made sure I knew it, making me put milk of magnesium on my face and wear hats so I don’t turn even uglier darker than I already was.)

But I also didn’t know the skin cancer risk! I checked and yep, you are told to avoid sunlight, and if you do have to be in the sun, to use sunscreen with a high SPF. And the one I do already do, to wear protective clothing – long sleeves and bottoms to cover your skin from the sun’s rays and of course, to wear a large wide brimmed hat or peaked cap. I didn’t know.

I had been feeling guilty that I was too busy to be out in the sun for longer than it takes to hang and bring down, hang and bring down two loads of laundry. But it’s actually GOOD! I did buy sunscreen when I first heard of skin cancer decades ago when it came out that Bob Marley had it under his toenail despite being Black. Popular wisdom had said Black people don’t need sunscreen. I also knew that though our risk is lower than that of white people, we have worse outcomes because our skin tone itself stops us catching the signs fast enough and so when Black people realise they have skin cancer, it’s more advanced and the prognosis very poor. For white folk, the 5 year survival rate is 94% vs 70% for Black.

How did I not know the skin cancer thing? I can actively try avoid the sun like I actively (with my N95 mask) avoid catching viral respiratory infections! I believe it’s better to tell us of the diseases we can try reduce the risks of. I can also check my skin more often. Our skin cancer often presents differently to that of pale folk. I’ll be more diligent from today!

Here’s a random photo of me.😅

I turn 46 this year folk! I have survived. I went from praying to die due to extreme AS pain to being grateful I am alive each new day. My children need me. And though it’s hard to force a smile on my face, this mother has no choice. Not only because it’s a principle I glean spiritually, but also I have seen the damage of an emotionally absent mother in my diaghetr’s birth sister. So even when the AS fatigue hits hard and the pain has built from a busy day, the smile comes on even when the tears want to spring out instead when especially my talkative six year old comes often wanting me to download some random wild animal video “NOW!” (Pathological demand avoidance is stressful even for us who support the ones who have it!)

I have hurt my shoulder badly. Today, I can vividly picture the bone scan with the arthritis in my neck and going down. I did a bit of ironing Tuesday to Thursday and I paid bitterly for my choices. Shoulder still sore. I will go buy Transact patches and go back to those days when the nurse giving me the anti inflammatory injection told me she fully understands why I have pain patches all over my body. 🙂

BUT on the other hand! Rinvoq is DEFINITELY the best treatment we’ve tried. Finally after eight long months of testing it, it is finally providing relief. I still stumble because my foot drops as I walk, so something is still fusing BUT the pain!! For three days now, I haven’t gotten up and raced to the pill box to get my pain meds! Usually, I lie awake waiting for a suitable hour to take the first pain pill of the day, knowing that if I take it too early at 4am, the effect will then go away too soon and you can’t be on excruciating pain while parenting. So you’ll lie in excruciating pain when everyone except their running father, is asleep.

I haven’t done that. I haven’t even taken my tablets until later to stop the pain from STARTING. Like today, I was up at 4:20am because that’s when the children’s father makes noise getting ready to go run for three hours or more, but I wasn’t in pain. I could study my Bible and pray. No pain!! No pain!! Can you believe I had no pain at all except for my shoulder and the ruined right leg where my bone meets the pelvis at the back??

I’ve walked around and done laundry and all and only at 7:40am did I take a tablet when the pain started whispering. I haven’t used all my daily muscle relaxant (and painkiller) tablets in a week! I have more energy.

I have more energy.

I cannot believe how I feel waking up not feeling like I’m dragging cement stuck to my bones. I am not stiff either. I can walk without feeling like a tin man! I can’t believe how much better I feel. The pain is still there. But it’s bearable!

“And in the afternoon? What about the 4pm wall you hit where you just want to cry from how the pain has been building and you need to lie down for the rest of the day?” you ask.😜My answer is, ‘that end of the day, I’ve been enduring and trying to live with the pain but now I can’t anymore’ level of pain and built up exhaustion is not coming at 4pm anymore. It’s at 6pm that my body gives up.

It could be Rinvoq. But as I type listening to the children screaming at each other and fighting outside, what if it’s because I haven’t taught formal school for two weeks? What if THIS is what my rheumatologist knew I’d feel when she told me last year to stop teaching?

If this is because of not teaching, and not because of the Rinvoq, then even more am I saddened at the response I got when I told the children’s father that I need to “go on disability leave.” The “Is she crazy?” hurt back then. It would hurt even more if my extreme suffering is caused by something doctor and I both begged for and were stopped from doing.

Let’s see what happens when I resume teaching. For now, I’ve only been teaching Bible.

I promise not to kill myself ironing ever again.😅

You have no idea how bad I felt. I was standing outside with our little non speaker and I pointed out a flying butterfly to her. Wrong move. She ran into my body, put her arms around me in abject fear and hid her face in my side. That was a very strong, “I am TERRIFIED!” And so, as spring sprang up, we all realised she’s afraid of butterflies and dragonflies. Both of which we don’t have a lack of.

She’s scared of them unless her twin is with her! How crazy is THAT??

First of all, it was already so cute that her twin was blowing bubbles to entertain her. This girl loves her two minute younger sister. She told me we needs the Baby fabric softener I use for her eczema because she is a baby, “She can’t talk and she’s so cute!” And she is so adorable about her bigger twin sister. “Mommy, you know what? I was playing with R, I sang to her, I kissed her, I blowed bubbles and she didn’t scratch me!” Poor lovey.

So there they were outside where the insects are and enjoying each other’s company. My first daughter is the one who took the photos.

Then later on as they went round the house, my talkative twin caught a butterfly.

Look at THIS! She’s standing right next to her and she is looking at the butterfly! Unbelievable to all of us! Sometimes she even quakes in fear but this time, she not only didn’t even flinch, she pulled her twin who was still holding the butterfly!

And when it flew away, she still didn’t run! Wow! It’s got to be twin ‘magic.’

And there’s been a lot of ‘magic’ happening around here.

Humility. I will keep banging on about this because it’s something I love and she keeps showing it! Ammy is such a humble girl. Yesterday, she was asking me what the folded napkins were that had come with disposable cups and plates. I told her they were serviettes. Note, she turns 11 tomorrow. She asked what aserviette is. Her six year old sister told her, “A serviette is something that you use to wipe your hands and mouth when you are eating.”

I still can’t get used to her way of speaking. Our little autistic dictionary. But also, how did she know? Which video did I download that taught them that? And how wonderful it was that Ammy asked me I would post that her little sister knows what a serviette is!🥹❤️❤️❤️She loves praising her little sister and making her very aware of her strengths.

Our little girl is into wild animals now. No more Pharaoh, it’s animals! Ammy told me she liked a black dress I was wearing and ywim a concurred. “I like it too Mommy! You’re like a black jaguar!”

Ok then!

I can see the resemblance… 😅

It’s been a week. Full of blessing and the norm. We have lovely guests from Nairobi, Kenya who gave me flowers. It is so special having something handed to you. I can count on one hand the friends who have given me gifts. Ok I can also count on one hand the friends I can count on. Old friends I no longer have communication with who tried to raise money for surgery, friends who sent money for medication, friend who bought me a denim skirt after I had looked fruitlessly for one for YEARS… I am thankful for the beauty- filled moments of the week.

Yes we ‘did’ Christmas yesterday. My children who attend OT have the bug now so I am stuck with it for the foreseeable future. For me growing up, we knew Christ wasn’t born on this day, and we were poor. So the day meant meat with our food after slaughtering a sheep and sometimes a cow in my grandparents’ rural homestead, it means jelly and custard, it meant that little children wore brand new fancy clothes that you’d use for church thereafter and that was it. If we couldn’t travel that year, it wasn’t special at all.

But it is special for all my children including my daughter’s biological sister. Let’s start with her! We (daughter with my full support) finally got her mother admitted in a softy hospital for assessment and help. She will be there for two more weeks. And the girl is thankful. I am thankful. If I can’t adopt anymore, then let me love from afar. She hasn’t even told her mother that she wasn’t accepted by a university she’d applied at for next year.💔Only I know. That is what I am here for- to make people feel less alone. So you can guess how happy I was when I asked if her cousins were with her yesterday and she said yes, the cousins had actually gone to the home the previous day, and taken her and the babies to their home.❤️❤️❤️Oh my heart was so happy. They were not able to travel as they do not have the money to do so. And when I say “travel,” I mean ‘travel to the area the apartheid government had designated as belonging to Xhosa people with some Sotho intermingled.’

I spent the year buying things here and there to give the children their Christmas. Earlier in the year when we had a lunar eclipse, my bigger girl was as enthralled as I was, sending me multiple photos of the progress. She mentioned how she wished she had a pair of binoculars. So… Binoculars were on the list. I always ask them what they want. One girl wanted a camera, one girl wanted a purple skirt, Micaiah wanted a monster truck, and my biggest boy wanted a small backpack he can put wallet and driver’s license in, and our eclipse girl wanted a journal.

You should see how much paper is lying around! It’s a case of buyer’s remorse! But they enjoy it so much that I can’t hate. My talkative girl took a photo of me and said she would look at it when I’m not there. Made me a bit emotional imagining a day when I’d not be there forever because I’m dead. She took a photo of the lovely “bowl of cereal that Reo was eating. See, it’s not the packet, it’s a bowl!”

I got each of them what they wanted and an extra. Big son was happy with the pleather personalised notebook and pen. He said it looked very sophisticated. Biggest girl was happy with the unexpected and very high powered binoculars she got. The girls were happy with their purple tops and pink bunnies that they got besides the little black and white printing cameras and purple skirts they wanted. Micaiah got his monster truck and a pair of jeans and a top and a camera. Ahh the joys of multiple children! Now you see why it took me a year to buy all this. Our non speaker got a pink bunny and a train set.

And though it means nothing to me, it meant the world that they decided I also need a gift! I got a lovely mug and hot chocolate. In the heat of summer. So it will wait for when I’m feeling like I need it and somehow they got one without gluten. Did you realise how many cans have gluten? I never expected hot chocolate to contain gluten.

And then today I realized my gift to myself is a very strained and painful shoulder from too much ironing yesterday. I could only manage to iron a child’s comforter today before giving up. AS is the gift that keeps on giving. I am not my body. Or rather, I am more than what my body allows me to be. And that makes me sad and mad.

Nevertheless! I shall be thankful that with the highs and lows of special needs parenting, I have some highs. Our girl is saying more words. She sadly still wants certain things so I get dragged around when I’m ironing, preparing to medicate a child, trying to rest… There’s no holiday. But there’s peace in my soul and heart.

We will be fine. I know it because with the flowers, came prayer. When our guests came, the wife pulled me aside immediately and wanted to know how I am. Readers, you won’t believe how moved I was. The last time her husband came alone was right after I had discovered my husband’s first known affair. I could not pretend to be happy when he’d just broken my heart. And because everyone was acting like if I told anyone I would be the betrayer, I told myself I would have to pretend we are a married couple when really, I was the married one, he was a hunting bachelor.

The wife told me how disappointed her husband was. How he phoned her and told her I hadn’t met up with him when Mr went to the hotel he was staying in. It bothered both of them a lot and they wondered if I was ok. I had no idea my not going had had an impact. I truly had thought I was an extra and that the husband had really wanted to see Mr but because we’d sing together in a trio then quartet, I was a welcome addition.

I told her everything that I could think of between children interrupting us and wanting attention and her giving it fully and lovingly to them. And I will end with how as she heard a mix of a bit of everything including AS, she was compelled to pray for me right there and then. And my children saw it. Amarissa said she was such a caring aunty to pray for me, it was very special for her to see that.

I don’t know what the future holds for my breaking down body and somehow caring for my ‘getting bigger, stronger and drawing blood when attacking us ‘ daughter as I look to the day I am alone and not tied to someone who doesn’t know how to be a for better or worse, in sickness and health, forsaking all others type of person. But somehow, in the same way those who understand this life tell me they don’t know how I’m not wallowing in despair, we will manage through it. It won’t be easy. It won’t be fair.

But none of this current life is fair either.

It will be made right.

Have a blessed Sabbath and peaceful and healthy weekend!

I kept quiet. I had no chance to say anything anyway because he was preaching on the pulpit. Nobody ever says anything. So I kept quiet. He would repeat verbatim what a famous preacher said in a video we watched, as if it was his own witty saying or profound understanding. Others would quote the preacher, “I listened to a sermon by ABC and he said..” but he did not. Every saying he ascribed to himself. And I kept quiet.

He would stand up front and say he had read a certain text and I’d be thinking, “Man, I showed that to you! Why can’t you ever admit that your wife taught you something you didn’t know?”

And this began long ago. Because I found him already an elder and preacher when I was 18, the only voice our students heard was his. And so when I wrote a scathing email about an improper Sabbath that celebrated us and not God, people actually thought HE had written it. Nobody knew I could also use texts to show what God thought of practical parts of life.

And thus began a pattern that lasted well over two decades. A pattern in which the preacher’s wife remains silent, quiet, but also hoping that the preacher would draw nearer to his God as he claimed to be.

I kept quiet when he’d bring girls from his workplace to our home. I was the prescher’s wife- maybe he thought his flirtatious manners would draw them to Christ? I don’t know. I didn’t keep quiet with HIM. But he turned it around and said I was not being hospitable like a good Christian should be.

I kept quiet when he’d teach young people to be circumspect around people of the opposite sex but he was doing the opposite. I kept quiet when a young man said his story of our relationship was like a love story, perfect. I couldn’t speak. I don’t like the neglect, abuse and cruelty that comes when I tell the truth. And it had been drummed into me that the only truth you can tell is the one that makes your spouse look good. So I kept quiet.

But.. no more. I started telling anyone who would come to our home about the abuse and neglect. The cruelty and sarcastic put downs. And so, yesterday, I added a new person to she small group that I will not longer lie to by omission.

It was a double edged sword. See, the last time the husband came to Cape Town was right after the first time I’d found out my husband had been unfaithful. I was in no fit state to see anyone I would HAVE TO BE FAKE WITH. So I refused to meet him.

And here we are again, I find out in October about his floozy, and the Kenyan and his family want to see us when they come for a week’s holiday. Now what? What crazy timing! This time I vowed to my best friend that I would tell the truth. It is harmful to play happy families when you’ve been treated so cruelly that even your children are in shock. No way I’d lie to anyone even by omission. I told my friend I hoped an opportunity would come up to expose the truth.

The worst part? The husband was a faithful boyfriend to her when they were dating and he was studying with us at UCT. Everyone knew his heart belonged to Gladys back home in Kenya. Fast forward a few years and we are living in Kenya and they are now a married couple with a little boy. And still, his heart was for her. He praised her, boasted about her, was a hands on dad. How would my heart handle seeing treatment that I deserve being given to another? Especially after everything I’d forgiven? You know how the Bible says if you’ve been forgiven a lot, your gratitude is also beyond measure? If that was the case – if he’d ever asked for forgiveness- then the love would have been abundant. But it was not.

Thank God, the wife took it out of my hands as soon as they arrived. She didn’t even sit down. She wanted to cook to help me but there was nothing to cook! She was desperate to do something practical to help. I don’t know why I didn’t think of the ironing. That has been disheartening! It hurts so much just to iron one sheet. I ironed a skirt and my neck and shoulder were screaming. I didn’t realise how bad it was because I had not ironed in a few months. Anyway!

She dragged me to another part of the house and said she wanted to hear from me. She said that when her husband didn’t see me when he came over in 2016, he was devastated. He phoned her and told her my husband had met him at his hotel and didn’t bring me and don’t invite him to our home.

Oh wow you guys. I think I’ve been made to feel so unwanted that I didn’t expect him to be that sad that he’s not seen me. I thought my husband would be enough for him.

And so, I had my opening that I’d been telling my friend I was hoping for. I told her why I couldn’t meet with her husband when mine was the opposite of what he pretended to be. No way I’d have been able to be normal. I had a meeting with him and the elders when this first known affair happened in 2016 and I wept from my broken heart. What did my husband tell me? “You were acting like you don’t love me. Why didn’t you hold my hand? And why didn’t you call me Honey like you usually do?”

I have morals and standards and I married him for the morals he pretended to have. I fell in love with the words the preacher spoke. When those words proved to be empty, what was there to love? Especially not when this meeting happened after I’d caught him and he’d claimed he’d dump her but then went back to her a month later. He had killed me and expected me to play happy families. So I told her that I couldn’t do that when her husband was here that time. I told her that when I’d been told they are coming, I’d looked for them on Facebook to try get her number to tell her before they come.

But all’s well that ends well. She too had seen firsthand the devastation a spouse feels when they’ve given their all to someone who purposefully throws it away. A sister in law I had met a few times had found out too. She lost it. She left her home with all her clothes and stayed with them for three whole months. Absolutely devastated. She said she could imagine how broken I was from seeing how broken their sister in law (her husband’s brother’s wife) was.

She asked if the camera pointed right at us could pick up sound and I said yep!! She said, “Good. He needs to know I know!” And of course as I described all the different forms of abuse, she pegged quickly that he’s a narcissist.

It was liberating but sad. And that’s ok. I’d rather be liberated and sad than faking a happy life and being even more sad. They are the ones who brought me that bunch of yellow roses you see above.

In the same way I stopped going to listen to this preacher who meant none of what he preached, I will stop hiding. I’m not the one giving away money and time and affection. I have nothing to be ashamed of.

I will not keep quiet.

Feeling really sleepy so there might be way too many errors! Sorry!

The saying does not apply today.

See that light grazed area? That is today’s injury courtesy of my last born daughter. She was angry that her oldest sister played something on TV that she didn’t want. But it’s not like she tells us what she wants. So she started attacking her and then tried to throw the TV down and then I appeared to hold the TV steady and she then sprang for me and scratched my face. It still stings and it’s been ten hours since it happened. Her father hasn’t asked how our day was in months so I haven’t bothered telling him. So you who also haven’t asked how the day was, get to find out anyway. And after all, your reading this kinda means you want to know, right?

You also want to know how I calmed her down when she was attacking Vi and I for having dared to make her bath. She did the same “aim for their eyes” thing and was out to get us. I started singing the abc song (Do not ask me why!) and she sang along! Multiple times. Holding my hand as she got dressed. I was a prisoner but at least I wasn’t being attacked and she could be safely dressed in her pyjamas. This life is crazy! And scary. I fear what will happen when she is TALLER than me. Her biggest sister fears what happens the day she realises she can use objects as weapons and not just her hands. She also fears that she will scratch one of our corneas given how close she came to my eye.

Onto less worrying things. Her twin, gestured at her top and told me, “Mommy, sing these words! Just these words that are here.” So I sang the first line and stopped. She thanked me. 😁That was as random a paragraph as the randomness of her telling me to sing that one line. How does she think of these things?

Skills! Her twin is developing new skills! If we are not around – like at 5am or when she thinks we are taking too long to dish out- she takes a dishing out spoon, gets a bowl and dishes out for herself! Well done to her!

And look at this! Figured out she can manipulate it to make two letters! She’s been saying “em” when pouring my almond milk for herself and I told her siblings she’s saying “em for milk” but they kinda ignored me. Then she did THIS.

She has been pouring milk out at 5am, taking crackers… No need to wake us up to make food for her anymore. She gets it on her own – two edged sword! Like her fingernails.🫣

And on a serious note, my lungs are not good at all. I was laughing with the children earlier in the day and I couldn’t breathe afterwards. And every now and then, it feels like my lungs are burning. I hate what AS has done but I have hope that next check up, they won’t have become any worse.

And that was a very short glimpse of our life these days, but oh wait!!!

The best part of today’s home life was my ten year old! How could I forget? As you can tell, dear blog reader, affirmation and encouragement don’t exist for me. The two talking girls came to my room and Ms Spokeswoman- Twin A- said, “Please could we have the craft items you bought?”

Her sister was gobsmacked! “How does she know the word ‘items’?

Wow! She’s so clever!

Congratulations, Mommy, for teaching us even though you’re sick! You’re doing such a great job!”

“Her children arise and call her blessed.”

Let’s hope tomorrow has less violence and more random singing, self care and feeding, and crafting.

PS I took a real letter M and said, “Look! Another ‘em!” She mumbled something that might have been, “Don’t be stupid! There’s only one! And it’s the ‘double you!’” I guess I won’t be writing words like mom then!😁