Is passing the ball and sharing pizza too much to ask?

Sharing does not come easy to children. Well actually, sharing does not come easy to human beings I’ve decided.

This is my conclusion after standing on the side of the sports field and using every fibre of self-restraint I own not to run onto the pitch to grab the ball from kids who hog it. Pass the blooming thing, I shout inside my head, Open your eyes, dude…there are 3 free kids waiting in the wings. It’s a team sport!

I’m sure I’ve said that last bit out loud? Never!

Photo by Miguel u00c1. Padriu00f1u00e1n on

Is it that we are all driven by some inner desire to be the hero? Or perhaps we’re just chasing the high that we know comes from scoring/winning? I don’t know what the answer is but I do think that when it comes to any group activity, understanding our role in the team is as key as understanding the overall objective. Imagine if every single soccer game had 8 Ronaldos, I say. Who would be the Ruud Krol (I’m giving away my age) to help the goalie in the back? I think I’ve made my point.

As for adults, we don’t easily master the sharing thing either despite our pretenses. True sharing implies empathy: the ability to get into another’s mind and see things from their viewpoint. How many of us can truly say that we can do that?

I’m working on less of ME and more of WE.

…unless it comes to leftovers in the fridge. Then it’s me, me, me all the way. Junior School-sport style:-)


Enlightenment is Hard Work!

They say that when what you FEEL, what you SAY and what you DO are aligned, that you are on your way to enlightenment.

I was a long way from enlightenment this weekend.  What I was feeling, what came out of my mouth and what I had to do, were all just one big yawn!

It was one of thoseeeee ones.  My son was teething and the rest of the family was feeling the pain. At 2 hour intervals throughout the night, he kept waking his sister. Each time I got him to close his eyes, my daughter would call my name and wake him up again.  My husband and I danced in the dark all night, from spot to spot, as and when the screams dictated.

And this movie continued all night long. 

Naturally, all of us woke up grumpy.  I knew that some coffee for me, a bottle for the baby and a glass of milk for the toddler would help. I walked to the fridge.  We had no milk. We ALL needed milk.

It was 6am on a Sunday after a party with lots of champagne.

I needed to wake my husband.  For milk.

The milk arrived and was served. Just as I sat down for my coffee, I saw it.  Projectile vomit from my teething son.  Directly on to his sister’s hair.  (Now, the hair story is one for another day but let’s just say that there are curls for days and lots of spaces for the pieces of vomit to hide)

I needed to give her a bath and a hair wash.  Naturally, she didn’t want her brother to join her.  Naturally, her brother wanted to join her.  Naturally, I lectured her about “sharing and caring”.  Naturally, there were more tears.

By 8am the sun came streaming into the living area, Barney was working his magic, the coffee starting doing its job and my husband returned from his run full of energy.  The kids ran to him and said “Papaaaaaa!”  I fell in love again.  Big time!

Breakfast at a beautiful organic market in the countryside was just what the doctor ordered.  Enlightenment was around the corner. 

Once out in the countryside, the kids were beautiful. They walked hand in hand, wore their hats and said their prayer before sharing a croissant. My daughter said “Mama, he’s cute hey?” as he sang a song.  Theseeeee were the kids I ordered from the catalogue, I thought.  These precious little gifts from God.

I didn’t want to return them afterall.  I decided I’d keep them.

My husband ordered some bubbly. We needed it.  We toasted to the sun, a crap night, a better day.

That’s when we saw the cutest couple.  Hand in hand with matching sunglasses.   They were looking for somewhere to sit down.  The guy agreed to talk to the manager while his girlfriend went to the loo.  The only table available was in our section.  The guy said “God no! We hate kids” and walked off, determined to find something farrrrrrrrrrrr away from the playground.

The girl returned from the loo and walked straight into my daughter pretending to be a horse, with her brother on her back.  She said “Oh my God! These kids are the cutest. I can’t wait to have some! I adoreeeeeee kids”.   She picked my son up, put him on her hip and held my daughter’s hand.  She was a natural. She was glowing.

The puppet show was about to start and the kids ran off.  We pretended to be looking at them but our ears were on high alert.  The guy returned and said “Oh, there you are! I told the manager how much we hate kids”. 

My husband and I were frozen.

My heart hoped that she would SAY what she was FEELING and then DO what those feelings desired.

But, like me.  Enlightenment evaded her.  She said “Oh great, honey.  Thanks for that” and gave him a big kiss.

Allow me to wish you well on your journey to enlightenment, friends.  May what you think and feel always find the right words and may you DO that which will take you towards the light.

Aluta Continua, as they say. The road is long (for me).

© A Heart Full of Stories, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Lee-Ann Mayimele and with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.