My Street My Gang

My life has always been about people, little people and big people alike. Although mostly an an observer of lives and loves, I have found that children do not allow observation alone, they embrace life with great enthusiasm and insist upon everyone around them to do the same. It is reasons such as this, their uncompromising honesty, bright eyed wonderment, sorrow that is unhidden, and unshackled laughter that makes me love kids.

I am the only daughter of British parents in a family of five brothers, four of whom I had the pleasure of helping to look after, some more than the others. I consider myself extremely lucky to have been able to dry their tears, feed, bathe, change, rock them to sleep, and to play with them on my hands and knees. Because I was young when they arrived on the scene, I found very inventive ways of getting them to stop crying and getting them to sleep. These ways went from gentle rocking up and down on the tops of my shins, to being whizzed around the garden at break neck speed (well as fast as an old dolls pram would go with a 6yr old pushing it) for the wind to carry their cries away and leave them laughing. At this stage in my life My street My gang of brothers was and were in Gwelo in what is now known as Zimbabwe.

Their fortune at having me as a sister, remains somewhat dubious. I believe that they have over-come the trauma of being hurtled around the huge garden in Zambia, (another My Street My Gang)in the rusty old wheel barrow and tipped at break-neck speed into handy mud puddles at regular intervals. They survived worm sandwiches made with due care by my eldest brother and I, and I learned about the importance of repetition, it took several such sarnies and half chomped wriggling worms before they caught on that some gifts should definitely be looked at before being put into the mouth. On the bright side they always had me, (when my mother was busy) as a fierce protector, even from her at times! And I was someone they could come to when knees were scraped and the pebbles that they had secreted up the nose, or in the ear, would not come out as easily as they had gone up and in!. They also had me when mum and dad were cross with them for some reason or other, and of course they had mom and dad when I was being a child.

All of this prepared me for my own children, my very own precious gang! They arrived very early in my life, but at the right time for, and with, the right person. Fate had decreed that my husband come into my life, early enough for him to have the children he so desperately wanted. (Never mock fate or 6th sense), I had no idea who he was when he saw me one summers day rocking and rolling to some lovely 70's tune! He told his friends very loudly and for all who cared to listen, that he was going to 'marry that girl', finger pointed straight at me. HAH! I thought, I had no intention of getting married any time soon, MmmmmHhmmm!. I am extremely glad that I fulfilled his vision and wishes, what a gift he gave me, two beautiful children. My gang! I know in my heart that he is beside his children all the time and even though he did not get to see his daughter here, he has seen her and is with her whenever he is needed.

My expectations for my childrens milestones were often exceeded when it came to crawling, walking and talking. Teething was almost a breeze. What I do know now, is that babies are very individual and there is no real marker for when they will crawl, walk or talk. My son was in a tearing hurry, emerging from the womb almost two weeks early, he sat up on his own at three months, crawled on hands and feet at 5 months and began walking at 8 months. He is still in a hurry! My daughter was a new experience, I had not dealt with a baby girl before, and found that not getting sprayed with warm wee every time I changed her, a little more refreshing! She was also a little more leisurley when it came to sitting up on her own, which was a blessing at the time, as it gave me more time to hare around after my son on rescue missions which included a big tin bath, (my street at that time was in the african bush with less than plush ammenities) the well for our water, not far from the front door, a diet of stones and mud clods, cat fur and dog fur grabbed in chunks on passing and, all hastily stuffed into his mouth like cotton candy. That however was the only breather I got in the motor skills area as my daughter soon caught up and was walking at nine months, and then I was off haring around after the two of them, and rescuing my little girl from her brothers murderous intent! She did, at a later date, make up for the toy pistol whipping, the intent to gouge out her brains with a fork, and the continual push down, smack down, she received on her every attempt to sit up in the early days. Luckily for her and for me, once she started to walk properly, her brother decided that she was alright and took her hand in his wherever we went. From this experience I also found out why God had given me two big hips. They come in handy when babies are born 13 months apart.

No-ones' story is short, and we all have lessons that we learn along the way. Sometimes these lessons come from having reaped the whirlwind that we have sewn. Sometimes we reap joy and pleasure from a kindly hand from above, or from a stranger here below, often for no particular reason that we are able to discern. I have learned that people, strangers, family and friends, all help in the bringing up of a child and that we should listen before complaining that someone is interfering and only then, make up our minds as to whether or not our little darlings have been up to no good.

I have learned that being too close to a problem severely limits our ability to observe the bigger picture. That giving up ideals and principles so that someone you love, will accept you and treat you well, is a ticket to your own personal hell. That giving more does not always mean that you will recieve more in return. That not all men make good fathers and that some men are unable to love another mans' children. I have learned that if we expect respect, we will only find those men that are prepared to give it because we are ignoring those who won't and cannot. I learned that sometimes we need that crisis point, that cross roads, to make us hit the bottom of the human junk pile to find ourselves, our real worth and our real strength. Most of all I learned that kids do not deserve to be treated as less than, and that if you find yourself as I did, constantly defending and trying to protect them from someone you love, then listen to yourself and leave, even if it means putting a suitcase on your head and tucking your kids under your arms, LEAVE!!

I have thankfully, also learned most importantly, that there are people that can love without reservation. That there are men who can love another mans' children. After all I have married one such man!

My story like most peoples' is long and convoluted. My Street My gang has/have changed many times, (gangs change in size all the time, what we hope for is that it gets bigger and better} For the moment My street My husband is in England, and my gang and my husbands' gang are somewhat scattered. My daughter and I have virtual meetings in My street My house, where we sit on the back door-step in the evenings and share a virtual South African sundowner, (a glass of wine together). One day My street My gang will be back together somewhere.

In the mean time I am continuing my study of people and children in a more scholarly fashion now. However I still enjoy observing the real deal children and the difference that culture makes in their life choices, as well as being baffled by the British culture and accents that change over a 5 mile radius!

We shall also keep clicking away on my other closest friend here, my camera. And possibly the easiest camera to use I have ever had, even with my wretched tremor it still turns out some lovely photos. So I will share those as well.

I am also now able to see how a good relationship builds self respect and confidence. What it is like, to spend every day with a special someone that always has something good to say and who keeps our love alive through our many mutual interests, great humour and our shared adventures.

My wish is that I can help someone else through my lessons learned, to perhaps prevent a prolonged bad experience for someone, no matter the shape or form it takes.

On each page there is a bit of My Street My Gang and my love.

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