The second time my mother fell pregnant, my parents already had a ninth month old baby girl, and were not too overjoyed with the thought of another baby right away. A birth control fail that worked in my favor! Though perhaps I would be a boy they wondered, and they would name me Peter. But in the event of a girl, my parents had overheard the name Juanita somewhere, and my dad (I think) suggested Vonita. So when I popped out a girl and not a boy that’s the name they used. And no second name because they had already given my mother’s name Linda to my sister. And going up the chain would have given me Marion or Alma, but they just left it at Vonita.
Tag Prose
Happy Place
This evening I went for a swim in our local pool. I was reminded again how swimming totally transports to my happy place. I don’t care about anything when I am submerged in water, the world becomes a wonderful, warm, magical place. All my troubles disappear. And this evening I was presented with the backdrop of cloudless blue skies and the green of overlooking trees, as the sun began to set. I cut my last lap short so I could grab a snap before the sun disappeared entirely. It is not the best photo, but I had to share it!
Drink Dancing-50 Word Story
The wedding was in full swing. I was nine, turning ten. Music blared as a group gathered on the dance floor. With horror, I saw. My dad! I ran and hid. From my hiding place, I recognized the voices of my friends. They had recognized him! I curled up tighter.
Shopping Bags
At my local supermarket, a shopping trolley can only be used in exchange for a coin. I never bother because it is sometimes difficult to return when the shopping is done, and I’m wanting to get home. So I rather suffer in silence, buying only what can fit in a few bags that can be carried by hand. This morning I was waiting at the car park elevator, burdened with my heavy bags, bigger items wedged underneath my arms, ready to go. No trolley required! I felt a tap on my shoulder. A kind elderly couple said they have plenty of room, I can share their trolley. I attempted a polite decline, but they insisted. After the elevator came to a stop, the man said he will accompany me to my car. And helped pack the bags for me. All with a smile and good nature. A random act of kindness that really touched me.
Oh, the Smell!
The plan was always to send my daughter to a girls-only school for high school. Now with my son in a mixed school, we are thinking of sending her there too. She spoke to me about it yesterday. Do I want her in a mixed school so she can find a boyfriend when she is older? I don’t think so, I told her. I want her to focus on her school-work, but the world is made up of males and females. So it is perhaps good for her to get used to boys now, instead of being separated until later. And good to get used to their smell, she replied.
Because they smell really bad, she clarified.
Growing Up
My son started high school today (not exactly sure of the term used elsewhere?). Here I am pictured with my baby boy who was at that time maybe 8 weeks old? Working in IT with all the stress and late nights that came with it, made new born babies seem like a walk in the park. And now he is in high school with a broken voice and taller than his mom. I’m not sure I’m ready for this next stage! Of assignments and exams and pressure and responsibility. I’ve been having flashbacks of my high school years in a convent. Are they good flashbacks, my son asked. Not the ones I’m getting, I had to admit! And life is dragging me along, ready or not.
Injury
I injured myself the other day. I tripped after crossing a road and could feel myself going down. Until bang! I collided with the ground. A huge chunk of flesh came out my foot. It is really painful, and is struggling to heal. Every night it forms a scab, and then in the morning I put on shoes for the day, the scab breaks, and I have a new wound all over again. Self-sabotage. In just the same way I self-sabotage my inner healing. I build up resistance, and then break it all down again. I lost myself somewhere along the way, and am still looking. Where am I? What happened to me?
Privileged
On my return to work earlier this week, I caught up with a colleague of mine. Without thinking, I mentioned that the first day back is never easy, but at least we have a job to go back to. He replied by asking me why would I say that? Say what? At least we have a job. Well, what if we didn’t have a job, then what? He pointed out that the unemployment rate in Sydney is very low and if one wants to work, there is work. I was brought up with scarcity. Money was scarce. School fees were high, and always needed to be paid. Every single month without fail! We never had enough. Constant fear of running out. Added to the fact that I have seen unemployment in South Africa, and what it can mean.
Good point I told him. We are privileged to live in a city where there is work if one desires to work.
I’m Not Pregnant!
Omigosh! In December last year on a very bad #mummyTummy day I climbed onto a crowded bus, and a very kind lady beckoned from the front seat and left her spot for me. Offering me the pregnant seat. I sheepishly sat down and said thank you. It felt too awkward to explain. And have been doing tummy crunches and Pilates ever since. Which have obviously had no effect as this afternoon (first day back at work) I was again fighting my way through the bus crowd. Until the very thoughtful conductor on duty said to me, Oh you’re pregnant, you can get on this bus if you like, I can ask someone to move for you. No, that’s okay, I quietly replied, I’ll wait for the next one.
styleBeGone!!
Fate
Last week we went away for a few days. I was sitting on a bench along the beachfront, and while I was sitting there, a group of people passed by. They kept looking back at me, until eventually one lady broke away and came back to me. She recognized me from South Africa. She is a minister in our church (same church in South Africa that I attend in Sydney). I knew that she would be in Australia but hadn’t made any plans to catch up. She happened to be in that area for one night, and then would be in Sydney for a few days. It was one of those coincidences that sometimes feels more than a coincidence. I invited her to our home, and she was able to make the time last night to see us. It was wonderful! An unexpected and uplifting visit that felt as if God had organized it himself. Sometimes when special things like that happen, it makes me feel as though I am not forgotten, but that there is a living God we serve, one who knows our need. Xx
Poems and Petals 