Scallywag. Jacoba Combrinck

Scallywag - Jacoba Combrinck


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      Scallywag

      Confessions of a multi-mom

      Jacoba Combrinck

      Copyright © 2012 Jacoba Combrinck

      No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior consent of the publisher.

      The Publisher makes no representations or warranties with respect to the accuracy or completeness of the contents of this book and specifically disclaim any implied warranties of merchantability or fitness for a particular purpose. Neither the publisher nor author shall be liable for any loss of profit or any commercial damages.

      2012-05-30

      Acknowledgements

      I thank my family for their unwavering support and patience.

      The team at FastPencil.com made the publication process smooth.

      Dedication

      For Marietjie, David and all the children and staff at Owl.

      Introduction

      I am a multi-mom, which means to me that I play in multiple teams. First, the wonderful RIM team, as a programmer/analyst, which I love; secondly the Combrinck team, where I am Mom, Doctor, Chef, Partner, Friend; finally the K-W (Kitchener-Waterloo) team, where I belong to a most warm and welcoming community.

      Naturally my thoughts are filled with stories from my action-filled plays in all the paths I happily tread.

      Since many of my musings come from moments with my son, I wanted to include a few of my favourite poems about childhood, by Rabindranath Tagore. His work finds a connection with my own, although I would not be so bold as to place myself in his league as a poet. I also took the liberty of adding my own illustrations of his touching verses.

      Haven

      Swirls by David, 2 years

      Century

      You run on your small strong legs,

      confidently scramble up carpeted stairs, giggling

      as your father tries to grab you

      As I rub cream on you, I know these soft limbs of yours

      will become a man’s legs

      They will carry you to 2100, where I will never go

      Journey

      As you sleep in your car seat, your small busy hands are still

      Chubby fingers and dimples in rosy soft skin are still

      Clear and pitched voice is still

      Long eyelashes move slightly, tender mouth, smiling, is still

      Are you dreaming of some joy in play?

      Birthday

      Peaceful home-day, family-day, heart-day

      Joy-day, play-day, small-boy-hug-day

      Chocolate-cake-day, candles-blow-day

      Peaceful home-day, family-day, love-day

      Baby to Boy

      You pull me out of myself,

      tug at the ends of my strength.

      Nurturing you brings challenges never imagined;

      Loving you brings joy never known

      September Day

      Before the early morning light

      You call to me for a hug

      Small arms reach as I kiss soft cheeks

      Fluffy duvet still warm from the night

      My blonde boy with your silky hair

      You giggle when I tickle your back

      Your dad comes in and you beam

      Snuggle for a moment in the rocking chair

      Reach

      Snowflake

      Last night we read in your nature book about snowflakes

      You looked at the picture with wide eyes,

      amazed that they are one of a kind

      This morning we cuddle for a few moments in the lightening dawn

      I whisper that you are my snowflake, no one else is just like you

      You smile: “Thank you Mamma,

      and you are my beaudiful budderfly”

      Castle

      Blue triangles, red squares

      Stack the blocks to make stairs

      Towers and turrets, up they go

      Just one more - oh!

      Heap of triangles, red squares

      Try again, make higher stairs

      Towers and turrets, just so

      There we are - wo!

      Sick Day

      You wake at four and call to me

      Small face flushed and small body hot

      Milk and medicine soothes until seven

      Cheeks still warm, eyes bright

      you quietly watch treasured stories

      while Mamma works nearby

      Hands

      Small fingers, smooth palms

      Resting on the pillow next to me

      Small gentle breath, soft sighs

      On the pillow next to me

      Small sleepy hand, reaches and grasps

      Caresses my hair on the pillow with me

      Bubbles

      Creamy porridge, nutritious treat

      eaten with a promise of bubbles -

      young, picky eater enjoys his cereal,

      then runs outside to make pearly,

      soapy, floaty orbs that drift in the air

      settle on the grass just long enough for tiny feet to pop,

      small voice squealing in delight

      Embrace

Embrace

      Preschool

      ‘Mamma,


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