Of Stretched Babies

When little man was born, my grandmother was at home and spent the first few months with little man and I. There were a lot of little nuggets and jewels of advice and information dropped here and there but one story stands out for me until today.

One day I left little man with her for a few minutes and when I came back she had quite the long face. I asked her ‘Mwaitu (a respectful term for mother in Kamba) why the long face?’

She responded in Kamba (I don’t remember the exact words in Kamba) ‘my baby doesn’t have good clothes for growing!’

I dress my babies in growers, you know the overalls that are like body stockings? They cover from the neck down to the foot with a zip or those clip-ish buttons all the way down. Now grandma’s problem was that the feet were enclosed and therefore they had no space to grow. A valid problem. I tried to tell her that there are bigger outfits that the baby will fit into when he outgrows what he was currently wearing. She just got angrier and threatened to cut off the bootee part of the grower. She was really concerned. She elaborated that I was making her child uncomfortable when growing itself is such painful and hard business.

She said ‘you know there are special times when God comes and stretches the baby, it's a painful affair so God doesn’t do it all the time.’

I laughed it off.

9 months later, I have a slightly feverish boy, cranky and no other signs of sickness. His blood work comes out clean. His pediatrician tells me, ‘it must be growing pains that come with growth spurts.’

Apparently at 2 weeks, 3 months, 6, months, 9 months, 12 months, 18 months, 24 months… and so on children literally grow taller overnight and this can be painful. (Growth Spurts)

Shock on me!

My grandmother told me when little man was 3 months old and I laughed it off.

Children And Joy

These children that are mine make me happy! Everyday! The happiness starts in the morning. Little man sleeps in his own room. He always wants to wake up before his daddy leaves for work. You would be amazed at how sharp those ears are. Even when you whisper, he will hear you and call out. On the days daddy is less than quiet, at 6:30 you will hear ‘Daaaaaddey! Daddy! Daaaaaaaaadey?!’ it’s a sing son summon. If Daddy doesn’t respond, it graduates to a lower ‘Mummy! Maaaaaaaaaaammy! Muuuuum! Mummy?’ says none of us responds, the guy starts telling stories in his semi intelligible 2 year old babble! By this time we are giggling and trying not to burst into laughter… it’s not 7 am yet and laughter is already rambling in the house.

Usually daddy will pick little man up from his cot on his way out. Now little man loves going with daddy so little man goes for his shoes and sits with Daddy to put them on. Meanwhile I’m just waiting for the wail of disappointment when daddy says ‘bye, I’m not going with you today,’ that wail is like an alarm for baby baby who wakes up wondering where that noise is coming from. So I pick him up and we do the morning thing. Suckle-diaper change-play- cuddle-back to sleep. On a good day this takes an hour. That’s when little man has rediscovered doggy and thus has no interests drawing him back into the house. Its only logical, doggy wants to play and which two year old doesn’t want to roll around and play at 7 in the morning?

There are the days however that once daddy is gone, Little man remembers baibeee and comes running up the stairs screaming ‘BAIBEEEEEEE’. And his brother stops whatever we were doing to his brother a look that you just have to see. I can’t describe it well enough. Baby baby looks at his brother as if asking ‘what madness is this?’ soon enough it turns to fascination as baby baby tries to join in his brother antics. See baby moves his head and expects the rest of him to move. By this time little man has turned on the radio and is dancing wildly around the room. He could also be trying to climb up the window, or jumping up and down while counting… you get the picture. All this time mummy is laughing so hard, she might be wheezing in laughter… way past the rib ache phase.

These are my mornings, I wouldn’t give them up for anything! So if you are looking for me, look for me after 10 am. My 5:30 to 9:30 are reserved for happiness J.

Pamper rash aka Premium Diaper rash

Pampers… Pampers pampers pampers PAMPERS. These guys spend a lot of time and money promoting the brand but it seems everything else they use is not only cheap but bad for baby’s delicate bottom! 

The first time I got a baby I thought pampers is the best… that’s why the hospital even gave me a pack to go home with. The hospital (a ridiculously expensive for nothing place… never again) from my point of view endorsed the brand. So as a young and new mother, I figured, if doctors can endorse this, there’s something good. WRONG! Within a few weeks I noticed little man was red sore and cracking in his sensitive parts…. I thought ‘I must be doing something wrong, so on came the creams and powders but no change.

Just in time, someone sent me Kruidvat. All little mans drama disappeared. The Kruidvat ran out and I was advised the next best is Huggies. And that is how I am a Huggies and once in a while a Kruidvat mama.

Now, recently a niggle alongside a convenient lack of Huggies gold. The niggle, niggled me to niggle myself a pack of pampers premium. I rationalized that after more than 2 years of widespread complaints about the product in the region, any manufacturer would make some changes. And there are some changes… new cartoons, a softer feel… but now baby babies poor bottom looks like what the great lakes region must have looked like when all the volcanoes were active! Poor baby is red and sore and terribly uncomfortable. This is 2 diapers in out of a 72 pack. 

This is the end of the road for me and Pampers, no matter how many times they change the graphics on the diaper, re-parfume it, re-package it. Something is very wrong with their standards management and I’m out of that experiment, done, finished.

And to my dear Kruidvat angel, Thank you.

Breastfeeding Abnormal?

So there’s a movement in the US to normalize breastfeeding! My, don’t African mothers have it good! Remember earlier this year a young lady was ostracized for breastfeeding at her graduation in the US and it was all over the internet. It seems that for a mother to breastfeed in public in the US is more un-natural than soft porn. If you haven’t been following up what’s happening way out over there check this out>> THIS.

I can’t imagine being told not to breast feed when my baby needs it. Where doesn’t matter, what matters is that my baby needs to nurse and boobs are actually made to nurse little human beings… not amuse big human beings.

Now Kenyans being Kenyans those who believe to be ahead of things and on the cutting edge of social trends are starting to look down on public nursing. Try nursing, without a cover at the village market food court. Its not bad, on the whole, nice mature ladies will smile your way but every so often a supermodel looking girl will give you ‘the look’. This ‘’look’’ seems to say ‘’have some decency’’. As if breastfeeding is indecent. After that experience take a matatu ride with your baby (not for the faint-hearted though) or go to a public health facility (the Westlands maternal health clinic is my favorite, don’t look at me funny, I’m not paying I don’t know how many thousands of shillings for non-child friendly immunizations or adding a zero to the thousands for the child friendly ones. In public health facilities it costs between 50 bob and 300 bob). Should baby squeak as if to cry, everyone will tell you to give the baby what is baby’s… i.e. the breast. Trust me it doesn’t even come out lewd… its actually as loving as a Kenyan stranger in Nairobi will get.

In short I love that this breast feeding ‘issue’ is not in Kenya (except maybe in bougie Kenya) and would love to welcome young American families to invest in Kenya and use their energies on other things away from defending your right to be what you were made to be. Seriously though, I feel for young mothers out there trying to bring up children in a very unfriendly social and even legal environments (no one is going to tell me how to discipline my baby let alone take my babies away from me for trying to provide for them and for caning them every so often… that to me is nonsense. My mama beat me and dang she beat and pinched wherever was necessary to teach me a lesson, I’m not dead so my babies won’t die.)

Beautiful just the way God made it!

As I finish, when little man was about 5 months old, we took our first matatu ride to the clinic. I was shy so I pumped and put milk in bottles for him to suckle in the matatu. Now little man refused to have the milk in a bottle, the more I tried to force him, the more he wailed. The conductor in the Nissan 14 seater got tired of the racket and said ‘Mungu hakukuwekea matiti ndio unyime mtoto, mpatie mtoto haki yake!’ (God didn’t put breasts on you so that you can deny your child, give the boy his rights!)