The In-Betweens

  Good Morning, Lovely Human. The kettle hums quietly in the background. Maybe you're cradling a cup of something warm, it could be coffee, lemoney-rooibos, or hot chocolate if you're like me. Maybe you’re scrolling between tasks, baby on your hip or deadlines staring you down. Wherever this finds you, this Tuesday morning, I hope you know: it’s okay to choose yourself. That phrase, "choose yourself," gets thrown around a lot. Sometimes it's wrapped in glossy self-care aesthetics (candles, spa days, yoga poses at golden hour). But choosing yourself isn’t always that curated. Sometimes, it's quietly radical. Sometimes, it's saying no when you’re expected to say yes. Sometimes, it’s whispering “I’m tired” instead of pushing through. Choosing Yourself Isn’t Selfish—It’s Sacred Maybe you’re a mom who hasn’t heard your own thoughts uninterrupted in days. Maybe you’re navigating singlehood and wondering if your worth is tied to your relationship status. M...

It’s 3:55 AM. I’m sitting in the dark — the gentle hum of the fridge in the background, a faint flicker of the WiFi light keeping me company, and the weight of a red pen in my hand. I'm marking final assessments, wrapping up the semester, and slowly exhaling after a season of deadlines, diaper changes, class prep, grocery runs, toddler tantrums, presentations, feeds, flurries of emotions and having to say " Hi, my name is Tshenolo Mashaba " OUT LOUD so much more than I had anticipated! My eyes are tired, my back is stiff, but my heart is… full. The semester has officially ended. I’ve passed my own modules — exceptionally , might I add. The kind of “exceptionally” that reminds me I’m not just surviving, I’m rising. I’m growing. I’m doing it — slowly, imperfectly, but powerfully. An Academic weapon as my co-mom/ sister/ lifeline labels it.  And now, as I stare into the quiet stillness of my home, with my babies sleeping peacefully and my mind already shifting gears to ...

  At this point, I don’t even know how I’m still alive. It’s been one of those weeks—the kind that makes you question if time is real or if we’ve all just been living the same chaotic Monday on repeat. The clock just struck midnight on Friday morning and I'm not too sure whether to call it a night or aluta-continua? Both my kids are sick (because why wouldn’t they time their immune system meltdowns perfectly?), I have deadlines flying at me every 48 hours like heat-seeking missiles, and my daily classes are a blur of words that I think are English but might actually be gibberish at this point. My brain? Completely unresponsive. My body? Moving purely out of muscle memory. My spirit? Somewhere hovering over my body, watching the madness unfold like a reality show. The Art of Mom Survival Each morning, I wake up with a pep talk that sounds something like: You got this. You are strong. You are capable. And by 10 AM, I’m bargaining with the universe: Okay but what if I just lie d...

If there were an award for surviving an impossibly hectic week without completely spiraling, I’d like to think I’d be in the running—barely, but still. Between academia, a five-month-old deciding that sleep is an optional luxury, and life demanding I show up in all the ways, I have had to pull from reserves I did not know existed. Academia in Overdrive: The Balancing Act Last week was academic chaos. Between in-person lectures, assignments, tests and trying to wrap my head around coursework that refuses to be simple, I found myself drowning in readings and deadlines while also attempting to function as a sane human being. Spoiler: The sane part? Questionable. There were moments when I stared blankly at my laptop screen, willing it to magically complete my work for me. And when that didn’t happen (because, obviously), I had to power through—often with a baby strapped to my chest because, of course, he decided this was the perfect time to stage a sleep rebellion. Sleep Regression: Th...

It’s the morning after the very first MomUnity Bootcamp, and let me tell you—I am still riding the high! The energy, the vibe, the sheer determination of the all the superstars who showed up despite the rain trying to humble us? Nothing short of electric. It’s Sunday morning. Hubby and the boys are still knocked out, but I’ve been up since 4 AM, fueled by excitement, SORE MUSCLES, and the burning desire to capture every bit of this experience before the chaos of the busiest week ever begins. The Wins: More Than Just a Workout We did it! After weeks of planning, reaching out, and spreading the word, the first-ever MomUnity Bootcamp came to life—and it was nothing short of magic. Seeing everyone from all backgrounds come together, sweating, laughing, and pushing past their limits was a reminder of why I started this in the first place. We had new moms, old moms, twin moms, students, colleagues, champs with little feet and EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN! The turnout? Better than I could have ...

If you had asked me a month ago what my love language was, I would have said something romantic like quality time or words of affirmation . Fast forward to this week—where I resumed work, started my postgrad classes, and began in-person lessons with my students while also keeping two tiny humans alive—and I can confidently say my love language is now acts of service. Specifically, acts like "letting me nap for 20 minutes without interruption" or "bringing home food I didn’t have to cook." Oh, and did I mention that my husband started working out of town? So while I’m navigating my new academic, professional, and parenting marathon, he leaves early in the morning and returns late in the evening, adding another layer of chaos to our already action-packed lives. The Love Language Shift They say love languages can change over time, and I can confirm this is true. What used to be spontaneous jols and love notes has now evolved into, “Did you remember to buy more nap...

  If exhaustion had a face, it would be mine this week. With my husband out of town, I found myself deep in the trenches of solo parenting—juggling a newborn who believes sleep is for the weak and an almost five-year-old with the boundless energy of a small hurricane. By Tuesday, I was questioning my life choices. By Wednesday midday (Yes, a couple of hours ago!), I was convinced I had developed superhuman abilities. And if I make it to Friday in one piece? Let’s just say the only thing keeping me from collapsing into a heap of tears and baby spit-up is the promise of that Woolies Soft Scoop vanilla ice cream and a caramel gateaux cake at the finish line. Because nothing, and I mean nothing , is too much for a big bowl of comfort food. The Postgrad Registration Saga: A Tragicomedy in Three Acts While single-handedly running our little kingdom (read: chaos central), I was also in the midst of trying to register for my postgrad. Key word: trying . I had envisioned a smooth proces...