Untitled - post about nothings
All week, I’d have a thought in my head I wanted to write about. But when I finally settle down at night, I’m exhausted, and I’m thinking of how early I need to get out of bed the following morning, and I just knock out. I’m not awake enough/alert enough to write a proper post, but I decided to get a few things out.
I got some make up sleep Saturday morning with the net result being that laundary has not been sorted out and I just scrambled to make sure Monday’s school uniforms are layed out and ironed. I also ironed Tuesday’s uniforms knowing that there won’t be time for that Monday night due to Karate class. And yes, Karate uniform is also ready to go, sans ironing.
I have been lacking quality sleep - the one where you sleep uninterrupted for 6 hours. Baby’s been keeping me up with his night time snacking. I broke the habit once and he slept all night (I hadn’t thought it was possible), but it also meant the end of breastfeeding since he only got that at night. The habit is back and breastfeeding has resumed again and he seems to prefer this at night now to a bottle. Should I break the habit again? Regain quality sleep and deny him of breastmilk? Or should I just hang on in there? I’ve been erring on the side of hanging on. The boy is 2 months away from turning 1 year old. I won’t breastfeed beyond that, that’s my limit (at least, my imaginary limit). The first time, I planned to continue till Darling Angel turned one but I quit at 9 months.
Darling Angel’s making progress at Karate. She’s been to three classes - she didn’t cry at the 3rd one even though it was another large class which seemed to intimidate her. In fact, she was unable to count from 1 to 10 when asked. She stood static in the middle of the dojo while the other kids ran around punching bags and rolling over mats. At the end of the class she assured me she wanted to return. Yay!
A month ago, I had worried about Baby Brother’s seeming inability to feed himself small bits of food such as cheerios. This was while he was home with uncle and aunty from Nigeria. Before that, his grandma had been watching him for months, then he went to daycare for 2 weeks before aunty and uncle took over. The boy was pampered and would refuse to use his own fingers to feed himself. He could pick up the food, but he would cry until someone took it from his fingers and put it in his mouth. Two days after returning to daycare, he started to demonstrate proficiency at self-feeding. Now, I’m worried by his floor-foraging. He seems to prefer picking and eating scraps off the floor than being fed from a plate. I’m trying to keep the floor clean but he’s adept at finding stuff. I need many eyes on him at all times. I’m grateful for Darling Angel’s now frequent chime, “Baby Brother has put something in his mouth” which brings me running to prise his mouth open.
I’m trying to eat mindfully. I now write down everything I eat. I didn’t do it today, and my eating was not so mindful. Back to being mindful tomorrow. I’m hoping it’ll help me shed my remaining post-pregnancy weight.
At 10 months, Darling Angel was already one month into potty training and making good progress. I can’t even imagine putting Baby Brother on a potty unless there’s a model that can be attached to his bum so it goes with him as he moves around. Oh yes, there is - it’s called a diaper.
Talking of diaper, we’ve (I mean Baby Brother, but I feel so strongly about saying ‘we’) had a diaper rash, turned dryness or irritated skin for months that just won’t go away despite doctors prescriptions. Doctor said to air his bum. Air his bum? I tried it last weekend, and quickly threw a pair of shorts on him but no diaper. Went through many pairs of shorts. Drove me nuts trying to keep him off the couch and anything that might be hard to clean.
Darling Angel wants straight hair. I guess there’s something burnt into the subconscious of women and girls about the desirability of straight hair for a majority of Africans and African Americans chemically straighten their hair or wear straight weaves. In fact, I did the same until not too long ago. Darling Angel insists all I have to do is brush her hair a lot until it gets straight. I explained to her that she has extremely curly just like mine. “Is that the opposite of straight?”, she asked. That’s right.
