Hunter boots, taking the high road and picturing everyone naked – what this week has taught me

Posted by Tanya Kovarsky on May 18, 2012 in observations | 1 comment

Dear Max

As I write this draft, it’s 10pm and word has it you’re still awake at your dad’s house. But more about your late-night habits in another post.

It’s been a week of learning and fun for me. Here’s what it’s taught me:

- Hunter boots are extremely comfortable! (I had to order a style that was slightly more, er, expandable, to go over my, er, big calves.

- When someone disses you, sometimes it’s better to take the high road and just ignore it, after weighing things up properly.

- I spoke to a group of more than 200 women at the #WeLead conference about blogging. And you know they say you should picture crowds naked when you’re presenting or public speaking, well, that doesn’t work for me. Better to look the challenge in the eye. (on that note, I do hope no public speaker ever pictures me naked. OMG).

- Ranting on Twitter is not becoming. I know because I did it several times this week (sorry Two Oceans Marathon and Vodacom). But if I’m going to rant, I will rave when it’s due, which is what I did in both cases.

- I’m not really noticing the difference between the iPhone4 and iPhone4S. All that matters is all my data is back on a familiar device, and my white phone looks kick-ass with a pink cover.

- You can’t have enough diggers and trucks (have counted 9 in my car alone)

- It makes me proud to see you polite, friendly and mannered. And you’re helluva cute when you say “no please” to something you don’t want. For example: “Max, are you tired?”. “No please”. “Max, do you want to go to sleep?”. “No please”.

Thanks for keeping me on my toes and high on parenting,

xMom

Feature image via Poshglam

The food mixer that caused more than just a stir

Posted by Tanya Kovarsky on May 16, 2012 in parenting | 7 comments

Dear Max

I’m not sure how or why it happened, but you hate my Kenwood Chef. There is something about it that freaks you out, makes you cry, and causes you to vomit from anxiety. I can’t explain it. I’ve only started baking regularly recently, and it’s not like you’ve had an accident or other run-in with it (or a flopped cake).

I know to do my baking when you’re not home, and yesterday you outsmarted me – I simply lined up the baking ingredients and you knew. I hadn’t even touched the Kenwood Chef (now 30 years old, and passed down by your granny) and you hollered and were genuinely upset. Sisi managed to distract you, you fell asleep from exhaustion, and I baked some kick-ass chocolate chip-peanut butter biscuits.

When I got home last night, you refused to come back to the house, happy in Sisi’s cottage where you read, played and interacted with your iPad. You did not want to come home, assumedly shit scared about coming back to the house with that machine which shall not be named. Not even the lure of choc chip-peanut butter biscuits could shift you.

Dude, please come home! Come back to your coop soon, to the place where your mother bird waits. She who birthed you (thanks to the help of Pethidine and spinal block), who fed you (not biscuits, I might add) and who wants you back in the nest. I promise not to lay out baking ingredients in front of you. Nor enter you into Masterchef one day.

Love you,

Mom

There are two ways of looking at this: Zen-like and highly emotional

Posted by Tanya Kovarsky on May 14, 2012 in parenting | 4 comments

Dear Max

After a wonderful Mother’s Day yesterday (great 21km race, French toast, beautiful flowers from you, divine sushi lunch), my iPhone got stolen, straight from my handbag with you in the trolley, while I was trying to pay for parking.

The iPhone that I’ve been accused of being anti-social with (I’m not arguing), the iPhone with the hot-pink Griffin cover, the iPhone with all your games, the iPhone that connects me to work, people and what’s going on in your life when I’m not with you.

I’m in two minds about this all: one is calm, rational and sensible, while the other is a little emotional. Here’s how it works:

Mind one: it’s just a “thing”, we are both still well and healthy, at least I’m in a position in life to have a great phone, these things happen all the time, this phone is now supporting someone else, it’s replaceable and everything retrievable, I’ll survive being offline or without a phone for a few days

Mind two: I’m angry someone messed with my stuff and took something I’ve worked hard towards, I feel like an idiot for losing focus and not realising it was being taken, I worry about losing contact, I worry about all the phone admin interfering with everything I have to do. And a deeper part of me is asking if I brought this on somehow, if it’s “punishment”, or if there’s a lesson here (detach, focus on people, look after your possessions, don’t be careless).

I guess there’s no right or wrong way to feel here, so I might as well go through the motions, toying between feeling Zen about it, and like a total tosser. And smiling at the thought of a possible upgrade, while screaming out of anger in my car because I was perfectly happy with the “old” one.

I’ll laugh soon. And tweet from my new phone. And close my bag properly. And let go.

xMom

Celebrating my child this Mother’s Day

Posted by Tanya Kovarsky on May 11, 2012 in parenting | 4 comments

Dear Max

I’ve tried this post so many times – I wanted it to be “special” for Mother’s Day. I tried writing a meme, I attempted a poem, and I even thought about writing something intense – what motherhood means to me, how you’ve changed my life, how much I love you etc etc.

But there are better and more profound writers who can do that. And if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be celebrating Mother’s Day in the first place, which is why I’m dedicating this to you this time.

Max:

- You are cuter than Hello Kitty

- You provide me with more colour in my life than Essie nailpolish

- You are sweeter than my favourite Wine Gums

- You provide more entertainment than DStv, iPads and Kindle

- You teach me more of what matters than I ever learnt at school

- You offer me more of a spring in my step than my 14 (gasp) pairs of Converse

- You provide more music in my life than my iTunes library with its 3 390 songs

- You push me harder than the clock at Comrades Marathon

- You are awesome

I love you to infinity and beyond (which is something you’ve just picked up too from Toy Story).

Thank you for making me a mother. There is nothing better in this world than hearing you say “mama”.

xMom

We’ve been published!!!

Posted by Tanya Kovarsky on May 10, 2012 in Uncategorized | 4 comments

Dear Max

In case I forget to put this in your memory box, this is a small feature of this blog in Fairlady magazine. Dude, thank you for giving me something to write about, and for inspiration always…

Advice so sage I can’t ignore…

Posted by Tanya Kovarsky on May 9, 2012 in parenting | 9 comments

Dear Max

There is assvice (the bad advice) and sassvice (the good advice) and fortunately I got the latter yesterday when I was feeling a little hit at again.

I’m lucky to have a good support crew, on hand via Whatsapp 24 hours (because they busy themselves with late-night and early-morning baby feeds).

And this is the wisdom I got from Melinda. I’ve included some of the profanity, because it just wouldn’t sound like her without it. I know you’ll be mature about this, Max.

“If I were you I actually wouldn’t give a fuck!… If people have enough time on their hands to write shit about what you say or do it’s their problem! People who do that are threatened and have major insecurity issues… Don’t let anyone piss on your parade… People are mean but it’s your choice to let it affect you…You can let it stunt you or you can let it be the motivator to make you more fabulous”.

That’s sassvice for you. Use it.

xMom

A morning that made me wake up

Posted by Tanya Kovarsky on May 7, 2012 in parenting | 2 comments

Dear Max

Yesterday morning we had one of those quality moments that made me realise that doing “nothing” is everything, and how not setting an alarm or a to-do in my Moleskine is the best way to connect with myself and you. This isn’t new, and I guess everyone *knows* this, but it was a good reminder.

So when you woke up, with no devices or anything near us, we hopped into bed, and read many books, mostly about four-wheeled large vehicles peppered with one about Spot. We laughed, we spoke about stuff (toddler to mom conversations about drivers, farms, cows and our dog and cats).

Max: My bottle empty

Me: Yes, you drank quite a lot last night

Max: Milk comes from cows

Me: It does. And where do cows live?

Max: They live on farms

Me: And what do cows eat?

Max: They eat hay. And cats eat food

Me: And who else eats food?

Max: Gina

Me: I’m going to eat you (jokingly). Where’s the tomato sauce?

Max: Nooooo (giggling)

And then my favourite:

Me: Max, please don’t kick me, even if it was an accident. It’s sore

Max: Sorry mommeee (patting my leg). Better?

Me: Yes, thanks Max, all better

Max: You okay?

Me: Yes Max

Max: Beeeeg hug mommee (giving me a hug)

Me: Aaaah Max. You’re awesome

A reminder of the important things. Thank you for making my day.

xMom

I’m complaining about complaining

Posted by Tanya Kovarsky on May 4, 2012 in parenting | 4 comments

Dear Max

Whenever I complain about traffic, or a cracked nailpolish, or having to choose from a long restaurant menu, I joke that these are all high-class problems And I think it’s okay to complain, but it’s necessary to keep a balance and keep a perspective, which is tough – many adults don’t really know how to do this, or else there is so much negativity, and for whatever reason, very little positive. Twitter, Facebook and blogs are great forums for negativity, lamenting and high-class venting, and that’s okay for others.

You’re *only * two and a half, so your perspective is unique to your stage, ie low tolerance and selfish and you’re *permitted * to cry about waiting long for the Shaun the Sheep credits to finish rolling, or when the digger bit falls off your truck. These are real “problems” to you, you will voice your frustration and sadness, and then move on once you’ve been distracted or satisfied.

But somewhere down the line, when you’re ready, I’m going to try teach perspective. And while I’ll try not to pull the famous sentence “don’t complain about your food – there are children starving”, I will strive to help you see a bigger picture, to help you see the good. And I’ll try not to undermine, and I think it’s important to ride a small wave of irritation and ire, but see it for what it is. Is it awful to wait two minutes for service when you can afford to eat a restaurant? Is it tragic that you’re bored at work when thousands are unemployed? Is it worth complaining about chipped nailpolish when you have 38 other shades to choose from? (this one is for me).

And if you do complain or find negativity, at least balance it out – say a nice word, think a good sentiment, praise something or someone.

Right. I’m getting off my high horse. And out the mommy pulpit.

xMom

Feature image via Iamthemama

I won’t mention the “i” word. Okay, just one more time

Posted by Tanya Kovarsky on May 2, 2012 in parenting | 2 comments

Dear Max

Just a bit about what’s been happening in our world this week:

- I have been fighting the fricking onset of a cold and have pretty much spent your toy budget for the next year on remedies and vitamins.

- I ran my last long run before Comrades. This long club run was going to be a decider about whether I do Comrades or not. This is how I figured it: Crap run with tired legs and head not in the right space = no Comrades. Smooth run with strong head = go to Comrades.

I ran mostly alone for 52km and loved it – no pressure, no looking at clocks, just me (and my iPhone and iPod). I *only* tweeted about three times and send a few necessary iMessages. It was my kinda run – no fanfare, no pressure, long roads, quiet. I think I can do this. I’m behind on mileage and long runs, but I’m hoping…

- I got the new iPad with an awesome pink cover. Your iPad is now yours. I’m allowed to touch yours (to charge and download new apps), but you’re not allowed to touch mine. I feel this is only fair.

- Some new worries that have cropped up: your granny had a fall last week and had to have an op, toothache that try as I do to ignore, still comes up every now and again. A lesson here: confrontation of pain or problems is a good idea!

I’m off to dose up with Corenza C, paint my nails and try and compete with Bob the Builder…

Love you dude,

Mom

When does it stop becoming *okay* to hug and kiss your mom?

Posted by Tanya Kovarsky on Apr 26, 2012 in parenting | 7 comments

Dear Max

The other night as I lay in bed reading you a story (and I know you’ll find this a shock, but it was a book on trucks and diggers), I wondered how long I’ll have this privilege for.

At what point will it be “uncool” to cuddle, hug, kiss or be fetched from right outside school? When will you lose your vulnerability, your ability to cry so easily, your love for your comfort blanket?

Four months old

As moms we love our kids growing up, interacting more and making their way through the world, and we know we need to cut the proverbial umbilical chord, but we also fear innocence lost. And we fear our kids will slam doors in our faces, shut us out, and think ill of us.

I hope that as you grow, you’ll do it alongside me, and not shut up in your room, refusing to speak to me. I get the angst of teenagers and complex parent-child relationships, but I’m going to fight hard to work on ours. And I know that the public displays of mother-son affection have a limited time span, but I hope you’ll still let me hug you and high-five you – when no one’s looking, obvs. And for now, I’m going to relish the hugs, your honesty, and your “need” for your mom.

May you grow. May you always retain your inner child. May you realise that feelings and crying are a strength.

Love always,

Mom