A first birthday

We went to our old home town, where both sets of parents still live, to celebrate L’s first birthday on Sunday.

The two boys had fallen asleep during the three-hour drive there and were bright-eyed and bushy-tailed when we arrived. M settled into my dad’s lap to watch TV. As soon as the program finished my dad said, with a twinkle in his eye:
“I want to show you something!”

And there it was. Barely a meter and a half long but unmistakably…

“ A CAR!” shouted M.

“Yes, said Grandpa, and it is yours and your brother’s”.

He explained how he woke up one morning with the idea and started welding and cutting. The car isn’t for show either, it has an engine, a gearbox and it runs on petroleum. I listened to him explaining the technicalities, but my eyes were searching for the brakes. Villa Assumpta Close has an awfully steep downhill….

The next day, when we started the car, M got such a fright, that he jumped right into friend Elzabe’s arms. Maybe Villa Assumpta will be safe for another while…

It was a lovely weekend. L felt good and interacted beautifully with everybody who came to visit. I think he is quite the socialite…

I appreciated one visit in particular. Hester also had a little boy with CP. His name was Sean. He died when he was 11 years old. Hester and her husband separated because their marriage could not stand the stress. Her husband did not even attend Sean’s funeral with her. She is now married again and very happy. But I can see her hurt about Sean. Earlier this year, when L’s health was very bad, we also visited my parents and Hester spent a whole day with me, giving advice and helping with L. This time, she was simply amazed at the progress he has made. She kept on remarking how curious he is and how alert. And she could also see that, physically, he has made progress with ABR.

All good things come to an end, though. Yesterday we traveled back. We were tired and M was difficult. He vetoed his dad’s choice of music, he also wanted bubblegum (which D didn’t want him to have) and he wanted to go back to Granddad. When D asked “which Granddad” he evaded the question neatly. Even at age two and a half, he knows that there are some answers that will land you in trouble….

Just after we left Ladysmith, I could smell big problems in both boys’ nappies. Fortunately the UltraCity near Estcourt wasn’t too far away.

I jumped out to go and change L and D went to the men’s with M. The restroom had a baby changing table, but no door. So much for privacy. I changed L in record time – remember the suctioning machine stayed in the car…. I put a jersey on L – it was cold outside – and tried to wash my hands at the basin next to the changing table. The taps weren’t working. Or so I thought. I got a bit annoyed, but realized that I had no time. L was getting distressed and wasn’t breathing too well. I needed to wash my hands, though, because with the suctioning I work right in his mouth. I tried one of the other basins and no sooner had I squirted soap into my hand when the washroom attendant informed me that there is no water. Anywhere.

No time to lose or get angry. With the nappy bag slung across my back, I marched with my head up through the long line of women waiting to change their kids’ nappies. I received some looks of pity and some horrified glances at L – who needed the suctioning pump urgently by now. If I had a free hand I would have given them a sign. Something like: Yo. Sisters-in-no-water-nappy-changing-circumstances! But my one hand was full of soap and the other tried to keep L from slipping out of my arm.

I ran to the car and got a wet wipe from D. Him and M had the same problem and there wasn’t even a changing table in the men’s restroom. (South African restrooms. Hah! At least they’re mostly free. )

And so we shook the dust from our feet and pressed on. Homeward. Best place in the world.