Sometime last week while I was giving toddler munchkin her bath, she points to the nipples on her flat chest and says, “See mummy.  I have boobies!”  Okay.  My first thoughts were that she definitely didn’t hear that from me.  I was pretty certain I hadn’t had ‘that’ conversation with her yet; and I know I still say ‘boobs’ like we say in Naija.  So it wasn’t me (like Shaggy).

As I tried to figure out who it could be (between her aunt and daycare), I calmly said to her,
“Oh yeah?  Show me your boobies.”  She points to the flat nipples again.
Then I tell her, “Well, you don’t have boobies yet. You’re still a little girl.  When you grow older, you will have boobies.”
She says, ” Will they grow like your own?” (Jeez!).
I (still very calmly) said, “Yes, when you grow, your boobies will grow too.”  Meen, I didn’t think I’d be having this conversation with a 40month old child!

Baby munchkin was in the bathroom with us when this dialogue was going on.  Suffice it to say that the words, “I have boobies” have become the most repeated words in this household ever since.

Just this evening, DH narrated the conversation he had with toddler while he was giving her a bath.

Toddler munchkin: “See daddy!  I have boobies.”

He said he was too taken aback to say anything, so he just keeps quiet and wishes she’d drop the matter.

Toddler munchkin, again: “Daddy, see my boobies.”

Daddy just nods and continues his task at hand.

Toddler munchkin: “Daddy, when I grow, my boobies will grow like mummy’s boobies.”

Daddy: “Uh-oh”.

Toddler-munchkin: “Daddy, do you like mummy’s boobies?”

At this point DH couldn’t hold it much longer and he burst out laughing.

Kids say the darndest things!

During my leave of absence from Blogsville, I got awarded the Stylish & Versatile Blogger award by JustJoxy;  so this really is coming very late.  Thanks Joxy for that award.  To fulfill the condition for the award, I must say 7 things about me.  So without further ado,  here goes:

1) I love to read.  I read anything and everything as a child up until mommy-hood came calling.  Now, I can’t remember the last time I read a complete book.  However, I always feel the need to flip through any written material I come across.

2) I’m complex emotionally.  I might not drop a tear when something happens and everyone around me is wailing, but I’d cry when it’s least expected, like when watching movie or just listening to the lyrics in a song.

3) I love my own company, not that I crave it intensely ; but I very much welcome it when it comes (especially now).

4)  The worst time in my career life was when I was in Sales in an I.T company.  Thought me that I’m definitely not a Sales person.  I’d rather build relationships than make a sales pitch.

5)  I can be the friendliest person one minute and the most reserved the next.  It all depends on my mood.  However, I’m generally an easy going person.

6) One of my main philosophies in life is “What comes around goes around”.  You can’t expect to receive what you don’t dish out.

7) I procrastinate a lot.  (If I got a dollar for every time I heard/said that I’d be a millionaire by now)!  I’m trying to stop cos I’ve realized it’s causing me my friendships.  Many of my friends take the fact I don’t keep in touch a lot as a sign that I’ve forgotten them, when it’s just my procrastinating juices flowing.

So, that’s ME in a nutshell.

Thanks for stopping by.

Sunday was Mother’s Day here in the States. I’m sorry this is coming a bit late, but like they say, “Better late than never.”

Mother’s day is usually a big-do over here (I think generally, Americans like to over-do anything and everything just to make sales). Anyway, the general idea is that mothers are made to feel special on that day, something different from their normal routine; it could be breakfast in bed, no cleaning/cooking on that day, flowers, dinner/movie, whatever will make her feel special and appreciated.

Yes, I know we are all supposed to feel special and appreciated everyday, but HELLO? that just doesn’t happen all the time. Just like we are supposed to be thankful to God everyday for His many blessings and have this burning passion/zeal for Him in our hearts everyday. However, if you’ve been to a spiritual retreat ever, you would agree that the passion and zeal you feel right out from the retreat fades away with time and almost always, we revert back to our old ways. It is usually not intentional on anyone’s part, but that’s just life.

That’s why I like special days like birthdays, anniversaries, Christmas, Easter, Thanksgiving, Mother’s/Father’s day, Valentine’s day etc. They force us all to pause and acknowledge things. At these times, we are thankful for another year added to our lives, marriages or special events; for the birth and resurrection of Our Lord; for the many blessings of family and friends and for the love of that special person in our lives.

I did get flowers, a late breakfast after church in IHOP and this beautiful handprint from toddler munchkin. It had the cutest inscription behind the plate which said:

I miss you when we’re not together
I’m growing up so fast.
See how big I’ve gotten
Since you saw me last?
As I grow, I’ll change a lot,
The years will fly right by.
You’ll wonder how I grew so quick
When and where and why?
So look upon this handprint
That’s hanging on your wall.
And memories will come back of me,
When I was very small.

I know the challenges of motherhood are many, but little perks like these, make it all worthwhile.  A Happy Mother’s day to all the wonderful moms, moms-to-be, or mother figures out there.

I wrote last on this blog. Phew! I still can’t believe that much time has passed. It was never intentional to abandon blogging that way, but like I said, I am a procastinator. Oh! It’s been at the top of my list of New Year resolutions several years to stop procastinating, but I always, always fall back into it. I’d been planning to update this blog ever since, but this past year has just been plain crazy. It really isn’t easy mommying in this end of the earth. I know that’s not even reason though, but coupled with my procastination, well….. I’m really hoping that no matter what, I’ll be able to write in at least once a week.

Really thankful to some you guys that stopped by to see what was happening and even sent messages to find out why I hadn’t been online for a while. Made me feel appreciated and missed. (grins)

Okay, so here we go again, another resolution (this time, mid-year) to not procastinate and update my blog at least once a year. You can hold me accountable for that.

Can you believe we’re almost halfway through the year?  It still feels like yesterday when I dropped baby munchkin and she’s going to be 1 soon.  It’s really true when they say once the baby’s out, it’s just a matter of time before they’re grown.  Isn’t it ironic that when your kids are babies, you just can’t wait for them to grow up.  You can’t wait for when they’ll start walking, when they start feeding themselves, when they start talking, when they get potty-trained (oh! I really can’t wait for this myself), when they get independent and you won’t have to do everything for them.  Then when they actually become ‘independent’, you wish they were still babies and needed you. 

Life sure moves fast and I’ve realized from talking to other mothers and parents, most times we are too occupied to going through the motions of taking care of our kids and family that we really do not stop and savor the moment.  Then when they grow and don’t need us as much, we wish we had more time to bond with them.   I know it’s easier said than done, but I really intend to ease up a bit and enjoy toddler and baby munchkin’s childhood as much as I can.  I know there are moments that I’d rather cry than smile, like this morning.  I was feeding toddler munchkin her oatmeal while baby munchkin was climbing all over me.  She ended up toppling the bowl over and spilling the whole food on the floor and breaking the plate.  Normally, I’d have freaked out, but I just put baby munchkin in her chair (which I know I should have done in the first place), picked up the pieces, cleaned up the mess and made a fresh bowl.  I couldn’t believe how calm I was, and it made me realize that we can actually make choices as to how to act and react in situations.  You can decide to be happy and look at things from a positive view instead of dwelling on the negative things.

Here’s a video I love.  It talks about taking life slow and savoring the moments as you move along so you don’t have any regrets later in life.  And yes, it’s from NickJr.  You’d be surprised at how much you can learn from kid’s stuff.  Enjoy!

I admire the Yorubas.  They love their language and they are not ashamed to show it.  It is not uncommon to hear Yoruba in the stores, in church, in the streets or in offices.  All it takes is two Yoruba people in the same place.  I must confess it used to be a bit irritating to me back in Nigeria when you hear Yoruba in corporate offices instead of English.  However, here now, I’m more appreciative of the fact that they don’t care what other people think about them using their language to communicate (even though I still there should be a limit to it). 

The average Igbo man is different.  He wants to show he can speak English.  I’ve experienced several cases where I met another Igbo person and maybe said something in Igbo, only to be replied to in English.  We feel like speaking our language makes us ‘Igbotic’.  I have to admit that I’ve been guilty of this.  The primary language in my house growing up was Igbo, even though we started mixing it up with English as we grew older. I remember I used to feel a bit ashamed in primary school when some friends would visit and go like ‘You speak Igbo in your house?’  I don’t know why right now, but I know there was this twinge of shame.  Now, I feel totally foolish for ever feeling that way.  I am so glad I was raised in my native tongue.  It is an asset to me and part of my heritage and culture which can never be replaced.  There’s nothing like knowing how to speak another language apart from English, and which other is best to start with if not yours.  I wish I had taken my French classes in Secondary School more serious.  I always liked it in Primary School, but I had the most boring of teachers when I got into Sec. School that I totally lost interest.  I just worked hard enough to pass.  Seriously, teachers have a lot of influence on your take on a subject.  But I digress.

Back to the Yorubas.  I am yet to meet a Yoruba person who cannot speak Yoruba.  Seriously.  All the Yoruba people I know can speak, old and young, living in Nigeria or abroad.  I really don’t know how they do it.  Even those living abroad can speak almost as if they are in Nigeria.  Fine, it might not sound as ‘conk’ as the Nigerian one, it might have a bit of an accent to it (like GNG who has been murdering the language since 1979), but the bottom line is that they can communicate well in their native tongue.  Yes, I know many Igbo kids who can understand Igbo, but most of the time, they can’t speak.  My sister’s kids here in the States can understand every word you say in Igbo, but they can’t speak a word of it. I am so impressed that they understand, that’s a lot more than you can say for some kids in Nigeria who can’t even understand talk less of speak.

However, me, I want more than understanding.  I want the full communication.  Toddler munchkin is growing, and right from infancy, we’ve been speaking to her in Igbo.  All her first words were in Igbo. Sometimes, we had to repeat things we had said in English to her in Igbo for her to understand.  It was really funny.  Now that she’s growing and with programs like Dora, Sesame Street and Barney them, she’s picking up English.  She hasn’t started daycare yet, but now she’s started making full sentences, she makes them in English.  She still says some things in Igbo, but more of the time, she speaks in English.

I could just be content that she understands the language and that no one can ‘sell’ her in Igbo, however I want for her to be able to express herself in Igbo too.  I always imagine scenarios where we don’t want people to know what we’re talking about.  It won’t be fully complete if she responds in English, cos people can still make out a bit of the conversation if a part of it is in English.  When the Yorubas talk, you don’t hear any single word is English.  There’s a Yoruba word for every single thing. Meen!

Anyway, what I really want to know is how the Yorubas get their little ones to speak the language.  I think the key is to insist that they reply or speak to me in my native tongue and not in English.  Is there another trick to it? Yorubas in the house, please let me know.

I find it hard to believe it’s almost a month I last posted on this blog.  Just where did the time go?  We’re already in April and before you know it, we’ll be shopping for Christmas all over again.  Fine, I know I’m very good at procastination and have been meaning to post for ages now, but the way the days just keep rolling into weeks just amaze me. 

Yep! time is precious.  We might not really understand it, but time is actually more precious than we take it to be.  I remember that article about how minutes and seconds count.  Like how a month might make a difference in the unborn baby, how a second  might make the difference to the athlete and all that.  If we are not careful, we’ll spend our time on things that don’t matter and we can never take it back.

I was very lucky to have spent my Easter holiday with my family.  My first sister was visiting from Nigeria.  My other sister here in the States came with her family, and then my brother also joined us in a mini-family reunion.  It was the best Easter I’ve had in years. The kids had so much fun that my little munchkins needed almost 2 solid days to catch up on carried over sleep.  I’m sure toddler munchkin must have been wondering what happened the day after everybody disappeared.  It just made me feel so sad somehow.  DH and I both come from large families, but because of living here, these kids will probably not understand how many relatives they have.  It would just be ideal if we could always have family reunions like these where everybody will get together and know each other.  By the grace of God, we’d get to take them home as often as we can.

Anyway, I think I’m back to blogsville.  Will try and stop my procrastination (umm….think I’ve told myself that several times).  Guess I’ll say, I’ll try and be better.

I always thought of myself as being very patient and even-tempered.  However, I must say I don’t think I am.  You know the story about the guy who said he had stopped stealing only because there wasn’t anything to steal?  Well, one should never say they don’t do this or that until you’ve really been tested and you didn’t fall.  I’ve never had my patience tested as far as this.  My toddler munchkin is more than a handful.  I really don’t know where all the energy comes from.  It’s really exhausting and I find myself losing my patience most of the time and always screaming.  She just doesn’t know when to stop.  Everything is play for her and she’ll run around laughing when you want something done.  I have to chase her to put her diaper on.  I have to chase her to give her a bath.  I have to chase her to eat her food (the only things I don’t have to beg her to eat are chicken and eggs).  Even if she’s hungry, she’ll still make a play out of the whole thing before finally sitting to eat.  Gosh!

I am just asking God for grace and more patience.  I know this is the period for her to behave like this.  My mom says that at this period, their ears are for fancy.  I totally agree.  The thing is that I don’t think kids back home in Nigeria are this hyper.  Is it something in the food here?  Seriously.  I’ve thought about that.  Or is it because back home you can just let the kid expend all its energy outside while here, the weather might limit what the kid can do?  Or really is it that the kids are just as hyper and stubborn  but only the house helps get to see it because they are the ones that spend the most time with them?

I can only understand with the house-helps back at home.  Sometimes, you’ll scold them or even beat them for screaming and hitting the kids, but seriously, if I can feel this much frustration for my own kid, how much more can an outsider take?

I am begging God to help me change my attitude and maybe losen up some more.  I really have decided to stop making an issue out of everything.  If she doesn’t want to wear her dress, I don’t beg or force anymore.  When she starts feeling cold, she’ll come for the dress.  If she refuses her food or starts running around so I’ll chase her, I just put it away.  After a while when she starts demanding juice, I just bring out the food and insist she eats it first.   I think that’s the way to go.  I’ll only insist on things I know will either harm her or her sister.   The rest will just play itself out.

God help me!

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My oldest nephew turned 14 a few days ago.  He is in one of the Secondary schools in Nigeria, so I had called to wish him a happy birthday.  His voice sounded like that of a grown man, it was almost unrecognizable and he sounded so cool and collected on the phone, I was amazed  . For some reason, when I dropped the phone after I finished talking to him, I found myself tearing up.  I couldn’t help going down memory lane:

I remembered the day he was born.  He was so cute and fair, we called him ‘the cutest baby’, even up till he got into primary school. 

I remember carrying him on my lap while singing him a song or while we watched Barney and friends together. 

I remember giving him a bath and tickling him which always made him erupt with laughter. 

I remembered the first time I rode on a bike with him.  He was 5 and I was staying with them while doing my Industrial Attachment.  Since the driver wasn’t home from wherever, I had to take a bike to pick him up from school (there are, okay were, no taxis in Eket at the time).  Anyway, I was kind of apprehensive since it was going to be his first time on a bike, and I wasn’t sure what his reaction was going to be.  I had seen several kids get hysterical whenever they were being put on a bike.  I didn’t need to have worried.  The boy was so excited, he threw his hands up in the air and was laughing his heart out as the wind blew on his face.  It was so funny and people kept turning and looking at us, but I didn’t even bother to stop him from having fun.

I remembered how we had this thing between us about missing each other.  Any time we saw each other or spoke after a long time, he would ask if I missed him and I would say ‘Yes’.  Sometimes, I would do the asking and he would excitedly answer yes, but most of the time, he did the asking.  When I spoke to him on his birthday, I was the one that asked if he missed me.  There was a pause before he answered yes. 

I don’t know if it’s just the big boy stage, or maybe the saying ‘Out of sight is out of mind.’  It sure hurt to think it might be the latter.  We used to be very close, and I always thought it’d be that way.  I thought I’d always be there to watch them grow and be a part of their lives. I know I haven’t kept in touch with him personally as much as I would have loved to, what with him being away at school and me with my 2 munchkins and crazy schedule.  I just wished the distance wasn’t there.  I just wished I could have the best of both worlds, the comfort and standard of living in America WITH all my friends and family around me.

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I didn’t mean to stay away from blogsville for this long.  My two munchkins were sick, one after the other.  Baby munchkin had a fever and then a rash after the fever broke.  All through the event, she was a bit cranky even though her appetite was not affected!  she’s a true daughter of her father.

Toddler munchkin had, still has a bad cold, with cough too.  When she’s coughing, it’s like her whole body is about to break.  The good thing is that it’s not the dry cough.  The bad thing is that she doesn’t know how to cough it out and just swallows the thing even before I begin to say ‘Spit it out, baby’.  My main issue with the cough is that even though it’s bad during the day, it’s like 10times worse at night.  I normally don’t like anything that disturbs my sleep (have I told you how I love to sleep?) .  Anyway, it’s frustrating to have my sleep interrupted like 6times between 11pm and 7am, but what’s even more painful to watch is how uncomfortable and in pain she is.  I wish I could just take the cough from her so she can have her peaceful sleep and I can deal with it myself.

The most annoying thing about everything is that these people here will not give anything to them for whatever is ailing them.  It’s like  a health policy.  They always go like ‘We really can’t give anything to kids below the ages of 4 for cough.’  and then for baby munchkin, they said it was some kind of virus that would just go away.  Fine, the rashes have gone and she’s feeling a lot better.  However, toddler munchkin still has her cough and can’t get any medication for it.  I’m told, ‘ just make sure she’s hydrated and it’ll pass.’  I really get where they’re coming from considering how drugs are abused here and all, but it really can be frustrating if one really needs medication.  I wish I were still in Naija.  The cough for go since.  Anyway.