Mothering in general is extremely hard. But when you add a little busy body who wants to do EVERYTHING and is actually really good at everything she does, the game intensifies!
I’m literally a C- student raising an A+ student, who rarely comes home directly after school. Why? Because extra murals!! Extra hours spent at school, extra monies to be paid to school, extra clothing, extra everything. And sometimes I have trouble keeping up with all these extras!
Our fridge looks like a damn notice board, and please don’t get me started on the WhatsApp groups! Remembering the schedule and pickup points for the different days are just plain trickery! But her grandparents juggles this so well.
Jazzy turned 9 on Friday and we celebrated her last year of being in the single digits. While busy with her party prep my mom informed me that she has made it onto the honour roll of her school for her achievements in chess, as she made the EP team again this year. She was also featured in the local newspaper and has made her way onto national TV! This girl-child is multi-talented and academically strong. What’s that thing they say about the ‘apple not falling too far’ again?
I sometimes wish she can experience life like we did. Even just for a while. She has never “played in the street”, nor does she know what klip-klippie is! And it doesn’t sit too lekker with me. Times have changed. We arrange play dates and our kids’ lives are by schedules. The load and nature of homework and projects are ridiculous too. And I’m left wondering when our kids will have time to just be kids!
The other thing that doesn’t sit too lekker with me is the fact that Jazzy refuses to speak or reply in Afrikaans. She does however speak Afrikaans when preparing for an oral or when reading, and occasionally when playing with Afrikaans speaking children who doesn’t speak English. I don’t necessarily leap for joy when I hear her speaking my mother tongue either, coz when she does, she speaks it with an accent. It just sounds disrespectful, LOL! I find this a little disturbing coz our family speaks Afrikaans. “Rooi” is pronounced “roy”, and she sometimes still asks the Afrikaans name of simple objects, like a table (facepalm).
I had to make peace with the fact that she won’t be attending the schools my sissy and I went to, and before us, my dad. My first language is not my daughter’s first language and that was my choice. I just wasn’t prepared for this feeling of LEGACY-LESSNESS … I guess.
Honest to God, I hope I’m not planting seeds that will grow into her having an identity crisis! But Exodus 2 gives me a little hope (I know it’s a crappy example to make but I can’t think of a better one right now). What stood out to me is the fact that even though Moses lived with the Egyptians, dressed like them and ate with them, when push came to shove he knew he was Hebrew! He chose his peoples, stayed true to his roots!!
She is paving her own way, and I am hella proud!