Lifa’s got one more week home from school. There was a long time of no school, and then there was school, and then school closed again. We’ve loved having him home, and we’ve had some wonderful moments in our beautiful city together. My boys love each other with a very special love, and I thank God for that every single day.

But despite all the pretty pictures and sweet stories, we’ve got some boredom, grumbling and pity parties happening at the Ladd house. If you read yesterday’s post, you might know that it’s “Find a Way to Win” week, so we created an action plan!

I’ve cried many tears over missed birthdays, weddings, funerals, births, summer vacations, holiday celebrations, and plain old Saturdays in the last five years since we’ve seen our US families. Chris has become a ninja husband, skilled in the ways of comforting an emotional wife.

Today is another special day. It’s Uncle Patrick’s birthday! (Patrick is Chris’ younger brother.)

Is there anyone else out there who thrives on schedule, rhythm and routine?

Does anybody live their best life within some good old fashioned structure?

And then 2020 happened!?!

It’s not that I’m anal or hyper-organized. (You could ask my husband about that... but don’t.) But I do thrive on order. One of the ways I care for my family is by bringing order to our home.

Remember that darling blog I wrote yesterday called “Benjamin’s Best Monday”? All those sweet plans and prayers? Anybody want to know how Monday really played out in my house?

It’s Fridayyyyyyy! The baby is asleep, and the big boys are watching YouTube videos and playing Minecraft in the living room. I am in Chris’ office with a candle and “drippy rain” noises playing my headphones. I’m trying to get in the zone to write one more blog for the week. Friday night blogs can be tough. I’m ready to start the weekend, but I’ve given it my very best since May to write every day, Monday - Friday. AND I’VE DONE IT! Every single Friday, I feel like removing my eye balls and disappearing into a bathtub with a dark chocolate bonbon. But, even now, I love that I’m doing it.

I had so much fun this evening with the Help Club mamas! The wild winter storm outside downgraded the quality of the video, but the audio was just fine. It was so special to have a semblance of sisterhood in my frigid bedroom a billion miles away from my actual sister.

Yesterday there was a big event: I got my nails painted! These claws haven’t been tended to since wayyyyy before lockdown, and the Ladd boys all know that Mom is a better person when her nails are painted. (They prefer classic red.) While I walked Lifa to school yesterday, I told him, “You may wonder who that extremely fancy and beautiful woman is when you walk outside of school this afternoon. It’s me! It’s just your mom with painted nails!” So much tweenage judgment.

Photo by Charisse Kenion on Unsplash

I LOVE Cape Town! I love South Africa! I love living here with my family. And I haven’t seen my mom or sis in almost five years. Many people who have played intricate roles in shaping me have never met my children. With a global pandemic in full throttle, 4th of July snuck by me this year and social isolation is kicking homesickness into high gear.

Happy belated Father’s Day! We had so much fun celebrating Chris yesterday! He woke up to an AMAZING handmade card by Lifa - broken elbows and all. (He’s on the mend! Hardly wearing his slings at all anymore.) Benjamin and I wrote him a card, and we all proudly marched up to Dad’s desk before he got busy with 3 online church services.

We are working on a big Father’s Day project over here, so today’s post is going to be short, sweet and to the point. It’s officially winter in Cape Town, and that means evening fires! The whole family loves sitting around the fire. But my man knows that I also really, really love a good morning fire. He got out of bed at 4am today, told me to take my time, and started building a fire for me. I came out 20 minutes later to find him working up a sweat and creating my dream morning.

The holiday season has ended, offices are opening, and the world is going back to normal. But we just received a Christmas package from my mom. And while I write this, I’m looking at six 12-year old boys (on one couch - with an empty one right next to them) chattering about Christmas gifts and watching Spiderman. We’re clinging on to Christmas morning and special family moments as long as we can over here! So, as you go back to work and un-holiday your house, I’m going to share a Christmas story.  

Benjamin turned 6 months yesterday! And I had a throwback to the last time I saw the inside of a hospital. Six months ago, I entered the hospital at 1:30am, 8cm dilated, and got put into a flying wheelchair that delivered me to labor and delivery. Yesterday, I made breakfast for Lifa, sent him off to school, and kissed Chris and Benjamin goodbye before hopping into an Uber. I walked into the hospital at 9am, admitted myself, and was escorted to the surgical unit. It started to sink in when I was wearing a hospital gown and a very friendly anesthesiologist and surgeon were describing procedures to me…I had surgery yesterday, by the way.

Happy Birthday to the most handsome hero. You’ve made us a family, and you sure do make 36 look good!

Our stories anchor us. They shape our values, and help us find where we fit. 

We need to hear them, know them and practice them. We need the opportunity to write redemption into them where we need it, and sprinkle celebration through our self-images. 

We’ve got a lot going on in the Ladd house this week… I’ve created a baby clothes organization system, baked and stockpiled Chris’ favorite granola, and filled our freezer with meals. Nothing to worry about over here - the people will be clothed and fed. My husband has become even more super- cleaning up after dinner, taking Lifa to run errands, and not judging my newly developed waddle. Lifa has discovered he’s a song-writing and puzzle-solving champ during the first week and a half of his school holiday while he tries to curb his anxious waiting. We are waiting and expecting….

This weekend, I had the most beautiful, wonderful, lovely baby shower! My darling friend, Kelly asked me months ago if she could host it for me. Even then, it took my breath away. Somewhere in a subconscious vector of my mind, I had written in some self-protecting mechanisms. I’d created disclaimers for myself and others to minimise expectations and disappointments.

I initially felt disappointed when there were not enough participants for the Personal Growth Course I was scheduled to teach it at [Arise Family Centre](https://arisefamily.org). Only two ladies showed up for the first scheduled class last week, so instead of using notebooks, whiteboards and therapeutic techniques, we pulled up chairs and chatted.

I knew one lady well. I spent a good amount of time with Granny V before.

There have been moments when I thought the 2-year visa journey was going to break me, and now I find encouragement and a little steady reminder from God. “The timing is perfect. We had to get you to right here, Kacy, to see the fulfillment. You wouldn’t know me so well if you hadn’t needed me so much. I wouldn’t have so much of your heart and you wouldn’t have given me so much of the soles of your feet”.