KWEZI AND I: A diva is born

Kwezi is back from her grandparents’ home where she has been for a good three weeks. This year, I made a promise to myself that since I don’t get to see my parents as much as I would love to, I will give them Kwezi to fill the void. It is safe to say that I am using my child to fill a void that parents feel when their children grow and leave the nest. However, this is the kind of ‘using’ that benefits everyone involved. My parents get to bond with their grandchild, Kwezi gets to do the same, while at the same time getting pampered and spoilt and I also get to have some me time.

Well, she is back and to say that I am really happy to have her back is an understatement. She has been sleeping in my bed and nothing makes me happier then how she smiles, and wraps her arms around me when she hears my voice, no matter how sleepy she is.

That aside, there are things that I really don’t like about Kwezi when she comes from her grandparents’ home. I don’t know how much ‘spoiling’ goes on there but while we are happy to have her back, we are not necessarily excited about the diva that we receive in return. I will, for example, tell you that I find it ridiculous that she comes back and wants to be picked up like she is a baby. For someone who is taller than an average three (and a half)-year-old, trying to lift her has on several occasions reminded me how weak I am and also, how old I am getting. The back usually threatens to snap and I can hear the creaking sound of my not exactly young bones complaining. I gave up on that, which brings me to another diva habit that she comes back with. Kwezi must have what she wants and if not, she will scream like someone has died. I can’t begin to tell you how frustrating it gets when a child seems to be breaking into tears for what seems like every five minutes.

I had to call my parents and ask what transpires when she is with them. My father told me that he has been giving her a few canes and blamed my mother for all this behaviour. I was surprised because my mother is a loving woman but also a disciplinarian. This is the woman who used to “give you the eye” and you would know that there is trouble after visitors leave. Is she becoming soft or is she done with the cane? I think my mother did what she could with us and the disciplining of children is all ours now. The goal posts have shifted and it is time for me to pick up a cane.

 

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