The toothpaste dilemma

The toothpaste dilemma

I am South African. My husband is American. We have spent quite a bit of time in both places. Enough to have a child born in each country during our respective stays. To complicate matters further we spent a priceless nearly two and a half years in Ukraine where we...
The toothpaste dilemma

Your People will be My People

In 1999 I got married twice. To the same guy. Once in the States and once in South Africa. Believe me, if you want to feel well and truly married, do it with back-to-back events four months apart. Because when you are picking out cakes for the second time around to...
How kids see color

How kids see color

My first son was born in South Africa. My homeland. My motherland. The place where my heart is buried deep beneath a jacaranda tree heavy with purple petals. Such a tree waits at the top of my parents’ drive to welcome guests. I would take you there if I could....
Ten

Ten

Ten years ago I said, “I do” to a boy 4 months younger than me. I know, 4 months is practically nothing, right? But, he would tell you, “Because of those 4 months, when you are 80, I’ll only be 79!” Ten years ago I naively promised to leave behind country,...

Pizza is my Homeboy

How do you know when you have been accepted into the inner sanctum of your family-in-law? For me, that litmus test was pizza. Or more precisely, pizza toppings. Thirteen years ago when I still thought a size 8 pair of jeans was chunky and crop tops were cool, I met...

Welcome home. Again.

There’s a moment right after passengers have been told to “put your seatbacks in the upright position, stow your tray tables and fasten your seatbelts” and before the landing gear comes down when my heart starts to race at the anticipation of being home again. First...