The joys of being in a beautiful and culturally diverse school. Dorje last week “MUM its not fair that Nicola is fasting!” “HUH?” I think to myself. “Why?” “Because she gets to go to the play ground to have fun first!” (They have to eat lunch before they can run outside) Hilare. So, now Dorje insists on fasting (well not for long)

When I put Dorje to bed I usually say “sweet dreams”. A while ago, Dorje told me he didn’t have sweet dreams – instead they were scary, monsters and the like. He “always” had scary dreams. I told him he could let go, not resist, not try to fight them, or be scared of them.

He didn’t think this was good advice!

We got into talking about how some people can control their dreams – skipping over awareness of one’s dreams! Dorje liked this idea more.

This evening I asked Dorje whether he still had nightmares. “No”, he said. “Now I control my dreams – I always win”. Dorje was highly convincing, but then he’s equally convincing as an orc telling me he’s about to chop my head off with his sword.

Still, according to him he’s mastered his nightmares. For those interested in following (or not) Dorje to mastery, the Tibetan centre in Cape Town is hosting a workshop on lucid dreaming at the beginning of October.

A few months ago Dorje and I went for a walk in Kirstenbosch, and up part of Skeleton Gorge. We were going to find the yeti on top of the mountain, and Dorje was particularly concerned about the yeti-Coke baby. This poor, mistreated child was fed Coke by its parents, and was in dire straits.

Unfortunately, it was late in the afternoon, and after much persuasion, we turned around to leave the baby to fend for itself with its dismal sugary diet a while longer.

So far all the indicators are that Dorje’s not going to be a soccer star. A little too William Webb-Ellis to follow the rules perhaps. And he’s unlikely to make it as a rugby player either, thanks to both strict instructions from his mom, and his rather un-prop forward-like build.

So, perhaps inspired by Louis Oosthuizen’s arrival from nowhere, I took Dorje to play Putt-Putt for the first time yesterday.

He’d never played, nor so much as picked up a golf club, and his first attempt was to wield it like a cross between a hockey stick and a broom. After some emergency tutoring, we settled down to play. The course was empty, so I decided to allow him a maximum of 10 shots, at least giving him a chance to feel the thrill of holing the ball after all that hacking.

He started with a 5, a 6 and a 10. A 3 on hole 4 seemed to have turned the tide, but it was followed up by a 10, a 6 and a 9. He ended the first 9 holes on a 41 over par 59.

He wasn’t helped in his instruction by watching two children, about his age, who really did dribble the ball into the hole.

Hole 10 kicked off the last 9 with a 7.

At that point the spirit of Louis descended, and my visions of him lifting the claret jug began. He went on a remarkable run of 4 consecutive 2′s. A wobble at hole 15, a 4, was followed by another 2 consecutive 2′s. However, he needs to work on his ability to handle pressure, as hole 18, with a free ticket beckoning, was a blow-out.

Hole 18 has a very steep, long slope, so one needs to hit the ball hard to even make it up the slope. His first attempt to make it up saw the ball fly airborne into the wooden shed behind the course. Not a bad drive for a putter. His second attempt at least stayed on the ground, but didn’t quite have enough power to make it all the way. The third time was successful.

However, the course hasn’t aged well, and there are dips and cracks in the concrete base, so many of the surfaces are quite skew. Hole 18 is one such, and is so skew that if you don’t sink the putt, the ball glides slowly all the way to the far side of the ‘green’, leaving a long, tricky putt. A few failed attempts, all ending with the ball flat against the far surface, centimetres from where it had started, saw him disheartened and he ended with a 10.

But there was enough shown that I’m investigating pulling him from his school and sending him to the Ernie Els Foundation.

Dorje is progressing with his chess, and is now pretty good.

In fact, he’s progressing so quickly I can’t beat him now. In our last game I was demolished while only managing to take 3 of his pawns.

There are a few minor variations on the rules though. The pieces get set up as Dorje wishes. He’s allowed to make as many moves as he likes at once. All moves are permitted. And when two pieces meet, and get into a “fight”, Dorje is the judge as to which piece is left standing.

So while I’m not holding thumbs at having spawned Africa’s second grandmaster, Dorje is getting great pleasure from beating me, again and again. And again…

I went away with Dorje this weekend to Aloe Cottage in Darling, courtesy of a Facebook friend who happens to own the house. The house is well stocked with games, and Dorje has discovered a new favourite.

Foodle!

Yes, Foodle, the funky food game involves rolling dice, answering questions on nutrition, and most fun of all, drinking lots of water. Dorje downed half the Darling dam helping mom and dad, who both soon tired of gulping water down.

Back home on Monday, Dorje and I made our own version. Drawing the board, colouring in the 24 squares (bright orange, bright green with glasses of water or various foods, and dark green with keys on the back), a set of 24 cards, again, 8 bright orange, 12 bright green, and 4 dark green funky monkey squares.

Funky monkey cards involve moving forward or back. Two forward for eating your spinach, one forward for eating broccoli, one back for eating sugar, and two back for drinking Coke.

What to do about the 20 remaining cards, all requiring questions? We should have stolen the cards from Darling says Dorje. Hmm…

A better idea, and much more fun – we left the orange (hard) and green (easy) cards blank, and made up the questions as we went along.

Dorje, with his superior nutritional knowledge, thrashed me, cruising through questions such naming two colours of cabbage, whether lettuce or spinach is healthier, and whether cashews or almonds are sweeter.

In spite of Dorje helping me out by asking the same question at least 4 times (whether milk from cows or the shops was healthier), I trailed badly, and Dorje is the Foodle (very definitely without the TM) champion.

Dorje was UP this morning at 5H30. We were ready for school at 7H00 including a game of Monopoly.

He was quite bummed with me that I was not going to take him to school at 7H00 – he wanted to be FIRST! He didn’t seem impressed that he had to wait for his lift club at 7H30

Dorje and I are driving in the car last night. The dialog goes as follows …

MUM “Its not ok to play with yourself in company, only at home in your room. Remember we spoke about this before”

[So, he gives me the "look".]

DORJE “Ja but MUM you go naked often?!”
MUM “Yes but I am naked at home!”

[there is a PAUSE and lots of thinking going on]

DORJE “MUM this is MY world … and you can’t make rules in MY WORLD, so I SAY it is ok to play with yourself in company”

Dorje and I went for a short walk and we were discussing that he is up to my chest level.

So, he says to me, “MUM you know why you are so short?”
Erm, “NO, why don’t you tell me?”
“Its because when you get really old MUM, then you get lower and lower and lower and … … wider and wider and wider”

I might add at this point is where he was gesturing (in intervals) how you get lower and lower until just about the ground and winder and wider until his arms were stretched WAY out.

Cheeky monkey

Dorje has gone to Oma with Aunti for a couple of days, school holiday

Aunti asks: Do you want to go for ice cream at the beach?
Dorje: “Why? Is Oma’s TV not working because of the rain?”
Aunti: “No, its working but should we go for ice cream?”
Dorje: “No, sugar is bad for you, I’ll just watch TV”

TV