Resurrected from my archives - April 2, 2015

It has been a really tough week for me. I always plan all these fun things to do for my birthday. This year, I thought, “Whatever! I’m not a kid. Why make so much ado about a simple day?” I made no serious plans and expected nothing. My darling husband rose up to the task and made my day very special and happy. When people say, “Happy Birthday”, do they really wish that you have a happy day or is it something that we say just because. The same way we say, “Have a good day”, “Have a safe trip”, “Have a good night…” I really think that we have got so used to saying these words as responses that most times we don’t mean it deeply enough. Oh well, I digress. It’s really your business what you say and what you mean. I did have a truly happy birthday. Even though at the end of the day, I got sick and one week after, I am still on my way to recovery. Through the day, I kept having these nostalgic feelings. Last year, on my birthday, I was heavily pregnant. All I asked my husband for was a buttery, creamy vanilla cake. I told him to just get 8 inches and that I didn’t want to share it with anyone. Lol. He fulfilled that wish, but made me share the cake. The nostalgic feelings came mixed with gratitude. The child, who was weighing me down and ripping my ligaments last year, was hugging and kissing me this year. I know that every parent believes their child is the best kid in the whole world. Well, I know that indeed my son is the best kid you’ve ever come across. That’s a fact! He laughs a lot. Not the average hahaha, but an intense, pure, honest laughter. Sometimes, he laughs so hard that he snorts and farts. Ridiculous! I look at my son and I believe that God is real and He answers prayers. LX is all I prayed for and more. So, I spent my birthday not reflecting on my life or achievements or lack of achievements. All I could think about was the little boy who is the most important person in my life (well, after his dad!). I get up to go to work every day and I feel guilty sometimes that I am not with him. I have a full time job, so my hours with him are very limited. But I remind myself that it’s ok. I am doing a good thing. I am working so that I can give him the good things of life. I am working so that I can teach him the value of hard work. I am working so that I can take him to visit his cousins scattered around the world. I am working for all these reasons and so much more. My womb is still hungry. I look forward to having another baby. Spending time with LX and the new baby and doing this mommy business better the second time. I am looking forward to more laughter in my home. But the time is not right. I’ll wait a few more months and try again. Fingers crossed.

Journey to Motherhood

Thinking about my life and the lives of some other moms I know, it’s become clear how unique every woman’s journey to motherhood is. Our experiences are as unique and different as our finger prints. For some lucky ones, they get pregnant at the drop of a hat (or a thong!). For some, like me, it takes planning, trying, praying and waiting, before it finally happens. For others, it takes years of waiting and medical intervention for the seed to sprout. No matter the path that leads us to those pink lines, the joy is indescribable. It’s pure and perfect. It’s the beginning of hopes, dreams and aspirations. For many of us, our children don’t become real when we hold them in our arms. They become real the moment we get a positive pregnancy test.

As unique as conception is, the months that follow also take us down different paths. For some it’s business as usual with only a bump to show. For others, like me, it’s puking, insomnia, loss of appetite, discomfort of varying kinds and degrees. While some have to wait it out on bed rest with very limited activity.

The delivery takes us down another unique path. From medication-free deliveries, to planned C-sections. From smooth and easy vaginal deliveries, to endless hours of pain and anguish.  We push through because we can see the light at the end of the tunnel. It’s feels like we are in a marathon, and we can finally see the finish line. 

 

Whatever your story, however you got here, you’re a mom now. You’ve experienced a special, genuine kind of love. Love that makes all your earlier (and future) challenges well worth it. You have this little human who you’ll carry close to your heart for the rest of your life. That child becomes your world, and to that child, you’re God on earth.

This piece is also published on http://akwukwo.com/blog/

On Criticism

Once upon a time in Toronto, I was babysitting two boys, 7 years old & 5 years old. They were such cute, darlings, but the first few days were such a challenge as they were probably testing my boundaries. 

 

I wasn't a mom at the time, and even though I have a bunch of nieces and nephews, I still didn't know a lot about dealing with kids. 

 

The boys' mom would get in from work and ask me how the day was. My answers those first few days always went thus: "Oh the day went well, but...(insert some naughty thing the boys did)" One day, their mom got back really exhausted, poured herself a glass of wine and asked the same question, "How did the day go?" I went about answering the exact same way I always did when she interjected, "Do the boys never do anything good?" I stopped in my tracks and immediately realized how critical I must come across. I sat down and whispered, "I'm really sorry." I picked up my purse and left and I made up my mind to be better. 

 

That change of attitude made the rest of the summer go really well with the boys. They brought out the kid in me and I happily taught them to read, math, puzzles etc. They also kept me in shape running, playing soccer, field hockey and enjoying long walks. When I had to leave, it was an emotional goodbye. They will always have a special place in my heart.

 

Fast forward a couple of years. I had my son and was getting ready to go back to work. Got a nanny who was great until she wasn't. It was a combination of little things. My son had gone 10 months with no diaper rash until she started watching him. Week after week, there was redness on his bum. I increased diaper supply, I created a diaper change schedule... everything! Still no improvement. 

 

Then the criticism started...

 

"You should get LX to see a neurologist. My uncle told me kids who walked too early could have developmental problems"

 

"LX is so whiny and never wants to play with other kids at Strong Start. He clings to me the whole time. He should see a behavioural specialist"

 

"I think LX has issues with social gatherings. He simply can't play with kids"

 

"He scratched this kid... and hit this kid..."

 

She didn't end there. She judged me subtly and not so subtly for working.

 

"I would never leave my child until she is at least 3..."

 

"I don't know how you can go to work everyday and not miss your son. I couldn't do it... My child is my first priority".

 

I was so hurt and angry. How dare she judge me for working and say all these crazy things about my son? Anyone who knows my little boy will attest to the fact that he loves people, laughs like a hyena and loves loves loves to play. We get reports from daycare on how compassionate he is with the other kids. I was hurt but most of all, I was angry.

 

I don't think I have ever been that mad at anyone. I had to rein it in, as I was still searching for alternative child care. In other areas of my life, I take criticism well and always step back and honestly search myself.

 

One day, without prior notice, I marched into her flat, cut her a check, called a cab and took every one of my son's belongings. That was the end of it. I couldn't have someone who saw my son in such a negative light be responsible for him 9 hours a day.

 

As moms, we are fiercely protective and will tear down anyone who even comes close to attacking our cubs. I think that defensive rage is a super power only moms have.  The calmest of us will tear you to shreds if you try to bring down our kids.

 

Next time you have the opportunity to watch a child, realize how much faith the parents must have in you. Respect that. When offering criticism, choose your words carefully, make sure your motive is simply the child's best interest and for Christ's sake, put yourself in the mother's shoes.

This piece is also published on http://www.akwukwo.com/blog/

Nostalgia 1

I really don't know why I have a '1' beside nostalgia. It's not my intention to write a lot about nostalgia. I have not really thought it through, I just know that I want to write something about nostalgia.

Nostalgia is a good and bad thing. I am more of a live in the present and look to the future type of person. There are a lot of things about my past I would rather not remember. Things that I have consciously replaced with other things in my mind.

For example, growing up, my parent's relationship had a bipolar quality to it. When things were good, they were really good. But, when things were bad, they were really bad. Violently bad. I choose not to dwell on it, because it makes me unhappy. It makes me embarrassed and it makes me mad. Unhappy that my father treated my mother so badly sometimes, embarrassed that I didn't say anything about it. In truth, nobody really said anything (at the time). I just pretended that it didn't happen; we all did. I am mad at how that experience affected me in relationships. I could not date any man who raised his voice (even if he raised it in excitement). I was afraid of bad-tempered men. When it came to men and anger, I gave no second chances.

My father and I had a good relationship, so I felt that to acknowledge this dark side of him was to denounce the good side. In my child mind, those two pictures could not exist. It had to be one or the other, and I chose the easier path. Don't get it wrong, I do not blame myself. I am not responsible for anybody's behaviour. I just wish that I could teleport back to that time, and react a different way.

There were times in my past when I treated people I love badly. I was disloyal to them, and insensitive to how my words or action impacted them. I was mean, didn't know what to say and when to say it. I just lived my life selfishly and carelessly. I hate to remember that time in my life. I do not know how those people can still love me. I look back at that time ashamed.

There are many periods in my past that I look back on and smile. Experiences that I am glad I had. Mistakes I made that now seem so stupid that I can't help but laugh at myself. Mistakes I almost made that would have been utterly destructive. Phew! Boy am I grateful for that still, small voice. I am glad for the life that I have lived and how all those experiences have made me who I am.

Is there really a point to nostalgia? If I could, do I really want to go back to any time period in my life? I would love to go back to my life in Nigeria though. Not for anything serious, just to eat ofada rice, yam pottage, suya, nkwobi and isi ewu, Ghana high ewa agoyin, my mother's oha and jollof rice, Delta kitchen starch and owho soup,Iya eba's rice and fish with roundabout and shaki. Yellow chili's pounded yam and banga soup, Jevenik's everything, PH bole and fish, asun from that place in Yaba (don't remember what it's called),  These are the things I miss about Nigeria. Oh, add air-conditioning. I live in Vancouver, we don't have air-conditioning! They claim it doesn't get that hot, and so it's not worth destroying the environment for. Isn't global warming a bitch!

Little nuggets from the bible that encourage me!

Ephesians 3:16-21
“I pray that from his glorious, unlimited resources he will empower you with inner strength through his Spirit. Then Christ will make his home in your hearts as you trust in him. Your roots will grow down into God’s love and keep you strong. And may you have the power to understand, as all God’s people should, how wide, how long, how high, and how deep his love is. May you experience the love of Christ, though it is too great to understand fully. Then you will be made complete with all the fullness of life and power that comes from God.

Now all glory to God, who is able, through his mighty power at work within us, to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or think. Glory to him in the church and in Christ Jesus through all generations forever and ever! Amen.” (NLT)

Jeremiah 29:11
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” (NIV)

Isaiah 49:15-16
“Can a mother forget her nursing child? Can she feel no love for the child she has borne? But even if that were possible, I would not forget you! See, I have written your name on the palms of my hands.” (NLT)

Ephesians 2:4-5
“But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved.” (NIV)

Lamentations 3:22 – 25
Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. I say to myself, “The LORD is my portion; therefore I will wait for him.” The LORD is good to those whose hope is in him, to the one who seeks him. ” (NIV)

Titus 3: 4-5 “But when the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy. He saved us through the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit.” (NIV)

Romans 8: 35-39
“Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? As it is written: “For your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.” No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (NIV)

----

I dedicate this post to a dear friend who needs to know at this time that God loves us, not because we love him or how perfect we are, but because He created us in His image. We are never too far away from the loving hand of God. xoxo

Once upon a cock

“Let’s get out of here”. Tommy said, grinning from ear to ear. I thought of how Bonnie wouldn't stop talking about how good a lay he was. A part of me doubted that anything had ever happened between them. Bonnie was such a cute liar. Her head was full of fantasies and sometimes she let some of her fantasies slip. Cute little pitiful lies.

“Sure, let’s go”. I followed him even though I didn't want to. He wasn't my kind of guy. I didn't trust frat boys who played sports and used so much product on their hair you could feel the grease a mile away. But I went with him.

We sat at the back of his truck and listened to Daft Punk as we smoked a joint. The conversation was shit. Tommy wouldn't stop talking about his boys, his vacation home in Maldives and his parent’s many cars and luxury vacations. I didn't give a rat’s ass!

I knew he wanted to rip my pants and fuck me. I didn't care. I hadn't been laid in over a year. At this point, he had moved on to tell me how hard it was to push the hoard of girls trolling after him. I smiled. “I bet it’s tough being one of the hottest guys on campus”. I said. “Spoiled for choice, eh?” He chuckled and shrugged. That was probably his weak attempt at humility.

Tommy leaned forward and kissed me. “Oh Michelle! You taste so good”, he moaned. In my head, I thought, “Excuse me, I taste of the burrito I had for lunch. Just kiss me and shut up!” Instead, I feigned a moan in response. He upped the tempo and started fondling my breasts. He was so rough it was disgusting. I kept moaning; pretending to love it. He pulled down his pants and revealed his cock. As soon as I saw it, I burst into laughter. “What the hell! Bonnie said you had a big dick.” I couldn't help myself. Tommy had the lamest dick I had ever seen and believe me, I have seen quite a bit. It was shaped like a blunt pencil and curved to the left side. It looked like he had been swimming bare ass in chlorine for days. I automatically reached out to touch it before he pulled away. Yes, it was hard. That was it at its best!

He started putting on his pants and was glaring at me the whole time, cussing under his breath. “Bitch! Fucking bitch! Whore…” I couldn't stop laughing. He yanked me out of the back seat and flung me to the curb. “What the fuck, Tommy. Calm down. There’s no need to be…” He got into his truck, revved the engine and reversed. The last thought on my mind was, “My purse… I need to call a cab”.

Tommy drove a GMC Sierra. We were parked on the dirt road behind the Frat house. It was dark and not one soul was in sight. Not even the couples who came out there to make out. Nobody saw when Tommy reversed onto the curb where I lay and crushed me with his truck. That was it. Just like that the conversation was over!

Becoming the monster mom!

Before I had my son, I thought many moms were crazy, deluded and obsessed with their kids. I thought moms who never saw any wrong in their kids, who cheered their kids on regardless, who kissed their kids every 5 minutes, were all crazy. I thought the moms whose kids ran around like maniacs in the grocery store were irresponsible. I thought moms who gave their kids pureed jars were lazy. I thought moms whose homes were untidy, littered with toys and cardboard boxes, laundry basket full and spilling over with unfolded laundry, were disorganized. I thought moms who ordered Chinese take-out cos they didn't have time to cook were women with poor time management skills. For these ignorant and judgemental remarks, I ask your forgiveness. These moms are heroes. They are the moms who focus their time and energy to shower love on their kids. They are the moms who realize that nothing else is more important than their little ones. They are the moms who love their kids regardless of what they do (or don't do) and who they are. They are the moms who will kill anyone who messes with their child. This is the mom I am slowly but surely becoming.

All I did last weekend was go out to Stanley Park for a day with my husband and son. LX wore his fancy boots and ran around the grass. He had a lick from my ice cream and went wild! Screaming and laughing. It was priceless! I was in the zone and I loved it. Sunday morning, I woke up sore and tired. My hubby had an appointment and left home at 10am. It was just me and LX and we had a wonderful morning/afternoon. I managed to get two loads of laundry done. Folded some, left some, I refused to worry about household chores. I chose to cherish the moment and enjoy LX's giggles and hugs and kisses. That was/is all that truly matters.

My momzilla moment came when my nanny said to me that LX wouldn't play with kids at Strong Start and just wanted to be held. My son is not that kid. He is social and friendly and playful. To hear someone else tell me something contrary sparked something inside me. I took deep breaths and just said, "Maybe he was having a bad day". In my head, I was thinking, "How dare you tell me what my son is like? How dare you say such things about my son? My son is awesome and if you don't see it, it's cos you don't know what awesome looks like!" I find that I get ticked when I comment on something LX does and she says, "Oh he does it all the time with me.". Bitch please! The only reason I have not gone all black girl crazy on her ass is because she still watches LX. I don't want her taking it out on my son. She is great, but she needs to learn what not to say to a working mom.

Anyway, I laugh at myself when these monster mom traits surface. I am unapologetic for the mom that I am and the mom I will be. I love my son fiercely and will annihilate anyone that does or says anything negative to/about him. I will rise to his defence any day and I will be his greatest cheerleader. I will shower him with love. A lady at Carlton Cards said to me the other day, "Love your child with all your heart. Hold him however many times you want. People will tell you that you're spoiling him, tell them, there's nothing like too much love". I am not a textbook/ internet mom. I parent with my heart and my instincts. I am a monster mom and I am proud of that. Deal with it!