My Bettries is Plat - Day 6

Updated: Sep 11

Ordinarily, I would have penned this entry last night just as day 6 bid us a wet and rumbly adieu. But I was knackered. The day felt rough and taxing, and all I wanted last night was to slide into oblivion. Generally, I sleep with great difficulty, but last night, the doors to the Land of Nod were flung wide open to welcome me. I had woken with a headache yesterday. I knew instantly that this particular headache was the product of poor eating choices and habits over the past few days. Even before lucidness had properly taken occupancy in my eyes, I resolved to cook a wholesome dinner. Good, healthy food was what my body needed. And fluids. Lots of fluids. The day promised to have me chained to my desk again. I had faith that as the day progressed and that as I connected with thoughts, ideas, clients and mentors, my energy would shift. It was not to be. Instead, I found myself rushing the kids like a mad bat to get up and get ready for their online madressa class. None of this was yet how I envisaged my morning. We had leftover mince curry and I made myself a snackwich. I wonder if you remember snackwiches? I love them, but I hate cleaning the damn machine. That's a real downside to snackwiches, especially when outsourcing the cleaning is not an option. By the way, all this house cleaning is a real drag. If this lockdown gets extended, can we please revisit the definition of 'Essential Services?' I'm almost certain that domestic cleaning is a mental health service. While my snackwich was toasting away I went to work. I had barely sat myself down, when I was summoned by his Lordship, the Royal Mr. Ghaalieb Jappie. My soul plummeted when I saw the task at hand. He was taking out our old two-level oven and he needed help go getting it out and the new one in, the latter being in the garage. Heavens! Did I have the energy? Did I have the strength? The old oven was part of the welcome committee that settled us into our home 11 years ago. Before us, she had raised a family for more than 30 years. If memory serves me correctly, she and I share a birth year. Though we had planned her farewell, I had no idea it would be this day. April fools day. It felt like an indignity somehow?


Anyways, she came out. As we carried her out, it felt as though the muscle fibers in my left arm and shoulder were ripping apart like hundreds of tiny elastic bands snapping. Somehow carrying in the new oven felt easier. But, after that bit of activity I was officially damaged goods. I nearly fainted. I held my strength for just as long as it took us to carry the new oven in and rest it on the table. I was seeing massive large dots floating in front of me and my legs had started to cave. My breath was laboured, and for a brief eternity, I couldn't get enough oxygen into my lungs. My kids poured sugary cool drinks down my throat in an effort to rescue and resuscitate me. For their care, I am eternally grateful and I love them long, long time. I made my way back to my desk, and a burnt snackwich, a berocca and an hour later, I was online in full coaching mode until 4-ish. This felt like a chore! A damned hard chore. Normally, I am so energized when I coach, but my batteries were pap! I called it a day. I emerged to find Amaanah baking a cake. I'm so glad that my little girl had the honour of taking our new oven on her maiden voyage. I'm also very glad to have a little girl who loves to bake. The cake is divine! She has a real gift, this young one of mine. Her creativity astonishes me. Her hands create. That's what they were made for. The skills she has is so alien to Ghaalieb and I. To this day, I marvel that she even came from us.


Ghaalieb had kept himself busy pruning some trees in the front, and he tackled some of the remaining ironing. I am hoping that his boredom will drive him into the garage before the lockdown is over. That's a spot that needs some proper TLC and a good dose of 'pruning' as well. Supper was pretty bland. A lackluster affair of chicken, veggies and salads that reflected my energetic vibration. I was pretty nil-per-mouth throughout supper. In fact, we all were. This spurred young Adam to ask each of us 'so how was your day? ' Shame, the poor kid tried, but he was working a tough crowd. 'Fine', 'tough' and 'ok' was all he got. His beautiful little face collapsed with disappointment. That got a reaction from us and we actually did come to life, teasing him and his efforts. In the end, he had succeeded in his quest. He had managed to resurrect his family's energy and return our smiles to our dials. For the most part, that's the role he plays. He soothes us and he heals us. That is quite a responsibility for such a young lad to bear. He once told me that his superpower is to love. I don't think that there has been a single day since I've met him that he hasn't wielded his power and stolen a piece of my heart. By 8 I was in bed. No social chitchats, no parental calls, no tv, no reading. No Covid 19 stats. Just the sweet sweet embrace of deep, restful sleep.

Fairland, Johannesburg

South Africa

Tel: +27 83 258 1251  makeshifthappen@newhabits.co.za

  • Grey Facebook Icon
  • Grey LinkedIn Icon
  • Grey Instagram Icon