Tag Archives: Mgazi

I Kill Innocent Creatures — And Then They Cry.

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The 53 stairs leading up to my house are a minefield of slimy, disgusting slugs. Every morning, without fail, I have to dodge, hop, skip, and weave my way down the stairs in an attempt to not step on one of the suckers. I always make sure I have some extra change on hand, though, just in case.  If I squish a slug, I can assure you I will not be the one who scrapes it off the bottom of my Cole Haan’s. Mgazi will do it. She’ll do almost anything for a quarter.

So far, in the ten years that I have lived in this house, in the thousands of times I have trekked up and down those incredibly annoying stairs, I have never ever stepped on a slug.

I did, however, manage to step on a snail.

Damn! Did I just make it down to the bottom of the stairs, all FIFTY-THREE stairs, violence-free, only to hear (and feel) the dainty shell of a snail crunch under my sneaker?

Please say it isn’t so.

Oh, it’s so. The children saw it all and they made sure I understood the full impact of my actions.

Zaffron: Mommy! What did you do?

Me: What? Nothing! Get in the car.

Mgazi [bending at the waist, inspecting the sidewalk]: Oh no, Zaffy. She is lying to you. Mommy killed a snail.

Tears immediately spring into Zaffy’s eyes. She’s by the car, with me. She can’t even see what Mgazi is looking at.

Zaffron: Mommy! How could you do that? He was just a baby!

Me: Oh for heaven’s sake… I just –I didn’t — for God’s sake, just get in the car. The snail is fine. He’s going to have to crawl away and find a new shell.

Mgazi [still peering at the glob on the concrete]: Nuh uh, Mommy. He’s killed. You killed him.

Me: Gazi, get in the car. Zaffy, you too.

Everyone climbs into the car and I think the episode is over because there is a short stretch of silence (if you don’t count Zaffy’s whimpering.) What was I thinking? There are never stretches of silence in my car. Short or otherwise.

Mgazi: Zaffy, you know that snail that Mommy killed? (Like Zaffy could have forgotten in the last two minutes.) He was crying too.

Zaffy [now wailing]: What? What?? Why? WHYYYYYY MOMMMMMMMMMMY?

Me: I’m sorry! I am so sorry. It was a total accident. I feel awful, Zaffy. Mgazi, you didn’t see the snail crying. Stop trying to rile your sister.

Mgazi: I did. I saw his eyes. And there were tears coming out of them.

Zaffy: WHY MOMMMMY? WHY?

Me: Mgazi, seriously. You need to stop talking. I’m not joking. Not another word.

And we returned to silence… except, of course, for the sound of my oldest child’s sniffling  grief.

Glass of white wineRecommended wine: Do you know what goes great with snails? A chablis — chalky, crisp, and flinty, with a hint of earthiness. Try the 2007 Christian Moreau Chablis. You should be able to get it for around $30.

Snail photo: Copyright (c) 123RF Stock Photos

Will Love Myself for Food

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So, I’ve been pretty good with doing my mirror affirmations lately. On Saturday morning, I decided to ask the girls if they wanted to join me. Simple request, right? Great way to bond with my girls, right? Excellent tool to provide them as a mother who cares about raising self-confident, fulfilled little kids, right?

Me: Hey girls. Mommy’s going to do some mirror affirmations. Want to do them with me?

Zaffron: What are they?

Me: They are an exercise that you do to fill your heart with love. You look into a mirror for three minutes and tell yourself that you love yourself.

Zaffron looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. I’m inexplicably compelled to keep talking.

Me: No, it’s good stuff. Really! You’ll feel great afterwards.

Mgazi looks at her sister and then back at me, a matching expression now on her face.

Mgazi:  I think Zaffron thinks that what you are saying is boring.

Me: It’s not boring! (I say this strongly). It’s good for you. (I say this kinda weakly, baffled at the unexpected turn the conversation has taken.)

Mgazi: I think Zaffron is right that it sounds boring. But I’ll do it with you. If you give me something.

Me: What? Okay, first of all, Zaffy hasn’t said ANYTHING is boring. She hasn’t said anything at all! Second of all, I am not giving you money to do mirror affirmations, Mgazi.

Mgazi: I don’t want money. I want cereal.

Zaffron: I am kinda hungry, Mommy.

Me: I am not going to bribe my children so that they’ll love themselves. Forget it.

I leave the room defeated by yet another one of my hair-brained parenting ideas. Mgazi calls out after me.

Mgazi: Are you saying “no” to the cereal?

Mgazi Wants Her Own “Partment”

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We are in the car. 

Mgazi: Mom, how old do I have to be to live in a room by myself?

Me: You don’t want to share a room with your sister?

Mgazi: No, I want my own partment.

Me: Well, I guess the soonest would be eighteen. You can live all by yourself in an apartment when you are eighteen.

Mgazi: I want to live by myself in a partment when I’m a hundred.

Zaffy: Lulu, you won’t have to live by yourself when you a hundred, you’ll probably be married by then.

Mgazi Wants to Go It Alone

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This is what Mgazi looks like when she realizes things aren't going her way.

This is what Mgazi looks like when she realizes things aren’t going her way.

I told the girls to get their shoes, we were going to run errands. Mgazi protested immediately.

Mgazi: I don’t want to go. I want to stay home by myself, with you guys.

Me: If you are with us guys, you are not by yourself.

Mgazi: I want to stay home alone!

Me: I can’t leave you alone, hon. What if something happened while I was gone?

Mgazi: I would scream, MOMMY! (She demonstrated.)

Me: Wow. Thanks for that, Gaz. Loud as that was, I wouldn’t hear you because I wouldn’t be at home.

Mgazi: Then I would call you on the phone.

I cocked an eyebrow at her.

Mgazi: I know I know. I don’t have a phone.

Long Live Russell (or Daddy, You’re Not Dead Yet?)

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Russell in a jetpack

Russell in a jetpack… but that’s a different story.

It’s late at night — about 10:30 p.m. the night before Russell’s birthday (last night to be exact). We had just picked up the children from the babysitter’s and we were driving home. The atmosphere inside the car was calm. Unusual.

The children were quiet but awake so I mentioned that their dad was going to turn 44 in a mere two and a half hours.

Zaffy said, “Forty-four? Daddy, does this mean that you are going to die soon?”

Russell said, “I don’t think so. I hope not. But I’m a day closer than I was yesterday.”

Mgazi said, “Daddy’s almost dead? That’s too bad.”

And the children drifted peacefully off to sleep.

Glass of white wineRecommended wine: Russell is a fan of bourbon. So, in honor of his impending death, I suggest his college favorite, Evan Williams. Long live Russell!

 

Did That Wall Just Hit My Car?

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I had a bad day. It started first thing. I misjudged while backing my car into a parking spot at work. Actually, to be more accurate,

I slammed my husband’s brand-new electric vehicle into a wall.

The day kinda went downhill from there.

This is what I saw when I first inspected the car from a standing position.

This is what I saw when I first inspected the car from a standing position.

This is what I saw when I knelt closer to investigate further.

This is what I saw when I knelt closer to investigate further.

This is what I saw after I fainted.

This is what I saw when I fainted.

I showed the girls the damage when I picked them up from school.

Mgazi: Ooooh. Daddy is going to be mad.

Me: No, I think it’s okay. I told him this morning. He’s not too mad.

Mgazi: No, he’s lying to you. He’s going to be mad.

Zaffron: I don’t think it’s so bad.

Me: Really?

Mgazi: No, she’s lying to you. It’s bad.

Zaffron suggested I scrape the other side of the car to match… she said that people would then think it was decoration.

Glass of white wineRecommended wine: On days like today, I recommend you reach for whatever’s in the fridge. What’s in my fridge tonight? A California chardonnay called Three Wishes.


 

Mgazi Thinks Hot People are Friendlier

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zaff.mgazi.temperature

Zaffron was telling me about a girl at school. She’s been confused, unsure if the girl likes her or not. This conversation, of course, took place in the bathroom. (The second most popular conversation venue next to the car.)

Zaffy: Mom, Mary was mean to me 2 days ago. She was mean to me ysterday. But today she was nice.

Me: Maybe she just needed to warm up, Zaff.

Mgazi: Yeah, Zaffy, maybe she just needed a new temperature.

It’s Vodka Not Vodika

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This conversation took place in the car. Of course.

Girls in car

Look! I can drive, say cheese, and take a photo of all three of us at the same time! *Smile* Actually, we haven't even pulled away from the house yet.

Mgazi: How old do I have to be to chew gum?

Me: Thirteen

Mgazi: Awwwww. Why thirteen?

Me: Because I said thirteen and it sounds like a nice number. Would you prefer fourteen?

Zaffy: I want fifteen!

Me: Deal.

Mgazi: Yay! We can chew gum when we’re fifteen!

[48 seconds of silence. I know this because silence is such a precious commodity in our car that I have taken to subconsciously tracking how much of it I experience during any given ride. Let me tell you, it's not much.]

Mgazi: How old do I have to be to drink wine?

Me: Twenty-one.

Mgazi: Why twenty-one?

Me: Because twenty-one is the legal drinking age. If you drink any kind of alcohol before you are twenty-one, you are breaking the law. This will make the police officers mad. This will make your mommy mad.

Mgazi: How old do I have to be to drink soda?

Me: Twenty-one.

Mgazi: Why twenty-one?

Me: Because soda is bad for you. It’s only good when mixed with alcohol.