Little Rays of Sunshine on A Cloudy Day

I haven’t written here for a long while!! That is not for a lack of stories but rather a lack of time. But I do miss my ‘mamamagic’ space. Being a mummy is still a magical journey that I love to share.


Updates

Both little men are walking now! Or should I say running and talking. The stories in this house are now never ending. Mostly funny stories, sometimes stories that you wish you could erase and they came out in the wrong place. Like a few weeks ago one of our relatives was rushed to hospital, I think little man put 2 and 2 together and decided to fill in the rest of the story himself. Weeks later little man goes to his aunty like, ‘Aunteeeeeee, uncle is a bad boy! Uncle beat you and you stayed in hospital? Uncle is a very bad boy…’


Yes I think my bladder almost released at that point because where would a little guy just under years old get that? And express himself so clearly! On the other hand, my baby is so confident and well spoken! My heart swells with pride!


There are many similar stories, they are almost weekly now. Including taking the mouse from the cat and showing it off to all and sundry, gosh you should have seen how their nanny ran, I’ve never seen her move like that!


Jumper on the other hand. Well, he jumps, all day, every day. He eats and jumps and his stories tend to come in a staccato that matches his jumping, ‘Mummy. Daddy. Go. Work. Now. Daddy. Stuck. In. daafik.’it’s a noisy playful house and really, nothing fills me up with joy like working in my workspace while hearing these lively voices play and shout out their stories! Which we can now understand!



Validation

This post is really about validation and encouragement. Life’s been really hard lately and we haven’t been able to treat the boys the way we used to or even want to. So we’ve been cracking under the pressure to keep the family afloat. I’ve been out there hustling like crazy to get a few shillings to the table sometimes clients pay, most times after you’ve done something decent, they decide either that’s not what they wanted or that is not work worth paying for… aki this life… God is seeing you people! Then another time I had 200 shillings between me and poverty… cops took it and I looked that cop in the eye and told him, his greed has denied 2 children their breakfast. Which it had… but well, that’s whats up. Life eh? But I have a God and so far the kids have always had something to eat.


So when that’s the daily hum drum of life, sometimes I hate myself for not being a good enough mum because despite the cold weather I couldn’t afford to buy my little man a fleece jacket, or replace the broken heater, or make him nice treats for school because we can’t afford to fix the oven. The killer for me is that now I’m away so much hustling that on top of the nice things we can’t do for them, mummy isn’t around as often. So when you get home with such clouds over your head and the children rush out to hug you hello, lead you to a seat or the couch and offer to get you water (despite the fact that they are too small to handle the water jug without breaking it…) I feel lifted, motivated, encouraged that my babies aren’t looking at me badly.


But the one that has given me life for days is when their cousins asked them to stay over for 2 or 3 days and the boys, both of them said, no ‘I want to stay with my mummy..!’ That brought tears to my eyes. That despite all the hardness we are going through home is best for them, even when mummy only has 1 or 2 hours a day with them, even if mummy doesn’t make them yummy muffins and smoothies anymore, even if they only have a few broken toys… they still would rather be at home with mummy.


People ask me, what is it like being a mum? Well, I think this post puts it very clearly. There will always be someone who believes that you are the best despite the odds. There will always be someone who motivates you to be that much better simply by being sweet.





Meanwhile, if anyone is looking for a digital online marketer or online digital planner, or content person with a background in journalism and a pretty decent track record as an all-round communications person. Send me a buzz, jumper needs to go to school and right now I don’t even know if they will have milk next week!

Hold Up! What The Huh!?

Some months ago I started noticing some weird things among my age-mates. This may have been noticed by those older than us much earlier but I think my eyes opened fairly recently. The concept of value and responsibility seems to be a conversational concept, and idea or philosophy to be floated around in company just to show how ‘learned’ we are. Many of us however do not seem to actually understand the day to day applicable meaning of these words.

See, for a long time I did not believe in the hoola-baloo around weddings and much less the whole marriage thing. What used to happen is that we go for all these seemingly joyous meetings and ceremonies that lead to the big day then one month, 5 months, 10 months, 1 year, 3 years max there is silence ice and talk of moving on. I heard of a marriage that lasted less than a month in this here Kenya, Nairobi even. And we think it’s only Kim Kardashian and the like who pull such stunts.

We are 28, 29, 30 and I dare say 35 year olds running around town with childish ideas of what life is about. Ho now does a man with children by more than one women, one possibly being an ex-wife who couldn’t live with an overgrown child still find that a conversation with peers about how they romped around Eldoret over the weekend is the highlight of the week! And if you corner the guy and remind him of his paternal responsibility, he might just share his strategy to spend everything he can on himself so that those mean, nasty baby mamas do not see a cent from him. True story.

This is not a man bashing post. There are women, my riika if you may, who all they aim for is to be married upper middle class. First the wedding needs to be of the standard, and must impress all the girls. Then they must live in an apartment in Kilimani, Westy or if things are hard maybe south C. Once the ring is on it and the child has been produced, it’s a competition to see who can Instagram their baby the most in the cutest outfits at all the right places… until you get to the other side of the lens and hear  ‘aki huyu mtoto husumbuuua.’ As the child is put to a corner in the latest fashion stroller as the girls have their wine. This lady might hold down a good job and her money is hers. To spend on looking good and being seen at the ‘right’ places, doing the ‘right’ things.

So I take a step back and mourn for all the things these overgrown children are destroying, I mourn for the old tired and lonely people who just might discover in their 60’s or 70’s that time cannot undo itself. I mourn for a generation that will never know what they are missing out on until they can do nothing about it but get lost in their own sorrow alone.

Real wealth that carries is not in property and fat accounts but in people, the people around you and the relationships we nurture. Relationships are hard and not always about smiles and laughs, there are tears there are fights… but the end goal is worth it.

At the end of the day, parents will try, and they will tire and their time will pass, friends, should there be principled people in your circle, will try until your antics will be too embarrassing for them to associate with you and they will quietly and surely melt away (as you nurse your drink in Malindi begrudging the haters you thought were friends), you will have destroyed the relationships you tried to call family and then what. Like I told someone a few years ago, the cars and the big houses and rental property will not nurse you when you are ill, will not be your companions when age slows you down and will definitely not bury you. So, I’m I talking to you?

View From Up Here

So I'm just working near the window that overlooks the yard. Coz I like looking out at the kids

playing as I think. The boys play together and boys being boys, the play is usually rough and one or both always end up crying. Now baby baby is a one year old who thinks he’s bigger than his 3 year old brother. So he bullies little man with no apologies or pretenses. Now, My little man doesn’t like fights so he usually just pushes baby baby away. Sometimes the push is hard enough to make baby baby fall and then he cries. Now this is where things get interesting especially if baby baby lets out less than 3 wails. He gets up and charges at his brother! Who doesn’t get this whole fighting thing so he just stares at this little guy with an expression that says ‘what the heck is he trying?’ By now baby baby has picked up a toy, or a stick or even a stone, yes, I kid you not, a stone! And is now charging waving his weapon and smashing it into a shocked little man. At this point the dog is wise enough to step away and just watch. Now, Little man either hits back and goes tells on his brother to the help, leaving baby baby wailing like the world is crashing down on him for no good reason, or Little man himself starts bawling as he runs off to tell on his brother, who chases his big brother until my help shows up at the scene. Then baby baby drops the said weapon and quickly engages himself in something else for all I can tell trying to look like he knows nothing of what little man is talking about. This happens twice every hour. At first I used to be so worried at every fall, at every shove, at every wail… Now I’ve learned when to stay away and let nature take its course. Now I move only when I see a real possibility of blood or a huge swelling. I also try to remember how it was at home when we were young with the siblings. We eventually grew up, dents, bandages and all. Anyhoo, I do enjoy watching them play, it gives me insight into who they are when mum is not perceived to be around.

Today as I write this, Little man has learnt from his brother. He pushed baby baby down from where they both were and he quickly ran across the yard so that my help found him supposedly too busy and too far from the crying baby…

Ambition much?

Once upon a time, not very long ago, someone told me that his dream is to raise hackers so that by age x, they can navigate any web scenario. I heard him and chuckled, thinking that it might be ambitious, maybe because my own vision was raising children who can play their instruments into college scholarships, this someone with the hacker dreams gave me the eye. Trust me, his eye is THE eye, it can lear at you while striking fear into your bones. Just the eye. One eye. Jicho.

Anyhoo, these ambitious parents seem to have gotten children who are ready to give both ambitions a

run and a half. I’m excited to say my baby’s seem to be getting the point and the joy of making music! Little man recently discovered that he can use his keyboard to make sounds rather than just dancing to the programmed music (we dance alot in this home, all we need now are disco lights to complete the vibe). Baby baby also discovered that drumming is fun, he takes his drums and bang bangs away to his brothers violent chords. They are already getting the band swag! Joy!

Theeeeeen little man has not only figured out how to subscribe to his favorite you-tube channels(I only see notifications of what’s been done in my email), he can make skype calls all by himselof. And while he’s navigating the cursor across the screen, one finger is held up at mummy saying ‘one minute mummy, a finish… one minute,’ children learn from watching us and listening to us… what can I say? Meanwhile his baby brother is having fun on his daddy’s phone sliding the screen and tapping icons as he maps the effect. 

There’s a real possibility that these guys might fulfil both their parents dreams and exceed them. Watching these little people grow is really a joy that nothing else can compare to.

Have a lovely weekend fam.

Instinct: part 2

So my journey to getting little man back to himself continues. Oh the path the Lord has laid out for us! Part 1 is here by the way.

Now we were sent from casualty to a consultant surgeon. So this guy looks at little man and right there asks me the question I’ve been asking all doctors who have looked at little man and I tell him as much. He says something that fit into the puzzle so perfectly. Basically he was reluctant to do this surgery because another problem had not been addressed properly therefore even if he did the surgery the issue that brought us to his office would recur. I almost passed out in joy but I was having such horrid cramps I ran to the loo instead. This guy turned out to be a close relative to one of our close friends (Gosh this our God has a sense of humor in his purpose!) He suggested we go see another doctor about the unresolved issue then call him when that’s sorted. Gosh I respected and fell in love with this guy right there, He has me as a loyal client now. I think I have found a doc worth me and my children’s time and money.

Now we had to find a doctor I could trust with this issue which clearly the guys who did the first surgery either did not see or kept quiet about it on purpose. I’m inclined towards the latter because even hubby knows how I questioned that unusualness in little man. So another doc was necessary but who? How? And how would I know I could trust him?

After sitting down with little man’s grandparents and taking in their insight, we decided to finally call a certain doctor who got their deep respect in the late 80’s. We found him and guess what, he didn’t even get off his seat when he looked at little man (who had decided he is not getting off or letting go of the push car… so he was examined on the push car). He just said, ‘Oh I can see how swollen he is, how soon can you arrange for us to get those things out?’ That’s less than a minute into the consultation. He then says he can ask for an x-ray but that’s more for my benefit than his. Then he went on and explained why an X-ray or CT scan (which we had been sent for then no one accepted to do it because unknown to me then, A CT scan has 9 times more radiation than a chest X-ray, so can you begin to see why I don’t trust these guys in white coats?) was not necessary.

So when we start talking about the necessary action, within minutes he calls the first pediatric surgeon and everything is set. I later find out that these 2 have been walking together for a loooooong time. Note, the first pediatric surgeon did not lead us to the second, my parents did. So really humour and purpose, only one way can they go so well hand in hand. Right there I decided this is the team I am comfortable entrusting my little man to. Now to work the complex issue of insurance verses cash between now and the time little man gets his issues sorted one and for all we hope.

Instinct is a big deal, you don’t have to be a doctor or teacher or any professional to know something is not right with your child. If you are unsettled about it, don’t stop looking, harassing, asking… all that. Just don’t stop until your stomach feels settled about it.

If you haven't read part 1, read it here.

Instinct: part 1

Instinct is a big deal. Value of instinct for a mother cannot be emphasized enough! Infact, the issue of over emphasis doesn’t exist. See, I feel like I have been going round in circles with little man and his constant coughs and alleged colds. We have been in doctors clinics and hospitals so much without getting any real answer or solutions that I started avoiding hospitals and doctors all together. I knew they would give me some bull about what’s going on which was not the truth, but if put to task about what I thought the problem was… I wouldn’t know. So I just started avoiding doctors and hospitals unless it started looking like a do or die. Which it did.

One night little man was just feisty and very irritable. He talks but not so clearly yet. I would ask him if he’s hurting and he would just fold into himself and shrug his shoulders. Very unlike him, he will shout ‘mummy hurting!’ at the slightest hint of discomfort. I thought about taking him to our nearest hospital but shoved that thought away at the thought of hearing the same nonsense. A few hour later I put him to bed and heard him fall asleep. Then the screams started! Oh the boy was in A LOT of pain. So much pain that he refused to cuddle into mummy and nurse (yes I still do every so often). He couldn’t sit, or lie down or stand, t some point he was running in tight circles flaying his hands about in pain. Only God knows how helpless I felt, it was all I could do not to cry with him. His poor brother also started crying inconsolably, possibly because he was scared. Oh thank God for a clear

Any parent has felt like this big cat when it
comes to their child at one point or another

headed daddy, he came in, took in the situation and we went to the hospital we go to when we must – because worst case scenario is that if we smell nonsense we can call in people we know won’t stand by and watch us being lied to (when I don’t trust the hospitals around… I have a grading system that guides my decision on when to take baby where for what, because most of these places are strong in one thing, or two so… yeah, I really do not trust 95% of the doctors anywhere! The 5% is reserved to those who are our friends from before they were doctors to the one in 100 who don’t have time or patience for bull and they are usually closer to retirement than the others).

So we find this really cool and direct young doc who says it like it is, he basically tells us little man’s issue is easily sorted with a simple surgery. But without this surgery the problem will just get worse and cause even more serious problems. Of course a girl has done her reading and since she is still interested in bio sciences, her reading and the doctors’ prognosis made sense. So the guy pushes us to a pediatric surgeon. At this point let me just share that this doc at the pediatric casualty turned out to be related to a friend I had in primary school, somewhere in the midst of tea plantations. So he refers us to a pediatric surgeon.

As a principle I don’t do long blog posts so here is part 2.

Whats not happening?

I’ve been having very interesting conversations with women, mothers, wives, from very different backgrounds in the last 72 hours and I cannot help but feel theres an ugly vein throbbing under all the joys of parenting. This throbbing vein is felt with the men in these womens lives, in our lives, who seem to be doing the dumbest things! Things that make very little sense. Things that make you believe that indeed evil is real!

Conversation 1.

This lady is sitting outside at an open field in my neighbourhood and her face is just misery. It spells misery from the creases on her forehead to the inward downturn of her lips set ablaze by fiery eyes that are not quite seeing whats ahead but seem to be looking for something to torch internally. So I ask her if she’s okay. In polite-nese she says she’s fine. I tell her she looks like she’s just been damned to hell with no hope for redemption. She says she feels like it. Apparently her husband has sent their children to his village saying that he cannot afford to keep them in Nairobi and its cheaper if his mother takes care of them. Apparently this man has been making bad business decisions f or the last two years which  has seen them lose their little land, close down a shop they had and now their home is mortgaged to the bank. This lady feels like he is purposely sabotaging their lives despite advise towards saner ways of making money. So she sits at the open field too afraid that if she goes home she might kill him in his sleep.

Conversation 2

Theres a man I know whose children would prefer not to speak to or even engage with. Not for lack of love but rather for self protection. One of the children recently told me that she would rather send money to his account rather than visit him or talk to him because each conversation ends with her doubting her selfworth after she has been reminded that girls like her don’t amount to much in this world. As much as she says she is lonely and would like to meet a good man, she’s too afraid of being continuously reminded of her miserable place in society so she’d rather learn to embrace her singlehood rather than take a risk with a man who might turn out like her father. To her men are just good for making babies while having fun at it.

Conversation 3

Theres a man I know who seems to have gotten married without knowing why, and cozy’s up to the title daddy while wondering why the baby just can’t shut up and give him peace… He somehow expects a child barely one year old to understand him man-to-man.

I know there are many wonderful men being the best they can be for their families but there re these poor souls who seem not to know that they literally are the bastions of their home and of their families. Is there a way to rescue these men from themselves, or at the very least from women who want to give their all to support the men they believe in and for those poor children who are being wounded by the mans confusion? 

Its easy to blame alcohol, drugs, peer pressure and all that but I think the bottom line is a man needs to understand his place in society, be proud of it and deliver to his family. Otherwise these same men are the guys who will be shouting how women are bullying them out of jobs and out of the home. If you are a man and you are reading this, how now can you help your fellow men rise to their position in society?