It’s okay to be a little broken.

Some of the time.

It’s okay to hold onto the madness

Some of the time.

It’s okay.

Everybody’s waiting for that external validation. For everything.

To be told you are doing a great job.

To get those likes. Those views.

To make it big.

Or, is it  just me?

I knew someone once, who used to write, and destroy his work.

Because, it was just….for the beauty of writing.

For me, that was horrific. Lol.

But, maybe that’s what we need to go back to.

Existence. For the very sake of existence.

Writing, because it is joyous.

It may sound defeatist. It isn’t.

It’s intended to elevate our beings. If you elevate yourself, to the level of your readership/viewers. You are your only audience. What would YOU like to read. What would YOU like to watch.

Dance, like no one is watching.

Because no one is.

What a hopeless title.

Regarding motherhood.

‘Trials’

But Motherhood is not just fun and roses.

And more and more women are opening up about its challenges.

We don’t have to pretend its ONLY roses, no thorns.

We can confess that we cry. Or shout. And we get frustrated. A LOT.

But lately I’m starting to realise, I’m afflicted with a bizarre triad of ‘personality traits’ that makes parenting even MORE difficult for me.

I am an introvert. I am extra-sensitive, an Empath. I am a perfectionist.

I realised it when I was walking with another mum friend. And she was chatting away with me as her baby cried. She was actually having an entire conversation as she pushed the baby in the stroller, and I walked alongside her. I mentioned to her how mind-blowing her abilities were to me. She shrugged my compliment off, and kept chatting away.

Because, I could NEVER do that. Even now, though my child much older, his wailing, whining, or crying…taps into a very direct radio frequency in my brain. And it drowns out EVERYTHING else. Literally. It’s as if someone plays a recording of my son crying at the loudest volume, with surround sound. And other people talking, other things going on around, sound very, very far away. All I hear is the incessant wailing. It drives an animal-like panic inside me, to make it stop. At all costs. Immediately.

My husband will attest to the fact that once my baby starts crying, I pay no mind to anyone else. I can’t hold a conversation with him as long as my child is unhappy for ANY reason. And to be absolutely fair to him, he has taken being second place in this particular way, very well. More that I would have if it was being done to me!

This extra sensitive nature of mine, is a symptom of being an introvert. I read a BBC science article recently about how introverts, ‘feel things more intensely.’ If you mention the word ‘lemon’ to an introvert, they start salivating immediately. It’s because even just the thought of the taste, makes their body react to it. An extrovert does not react to just the ‘idea’ of something. They need a bigger stimulus. (I tested it on my husband. He looked at me like I was crazy. Why would he salivate to the word ‘lemon’???) Lol.

So in general, parenting makes me FEEL more. I feel it deeply every time I don’t live up to my ridiculous perfectionist parenting standards. My child would not eat sugar. My child would be in bed by eight pm. My child would not throw tantrums in public (the first time I failed that one was…funny. In retrospect)

But to say that I don’t appreciate that I am in the unique position of spending every day with my child, would be a lie. I love my son so much my teeth hurt.

But that’s just it. I love just as fiercely as I feel everything else. And boy, does it fill me up. Constantly.

So I need to carve out, and fight for moments alone. His nap times, are so extremely precious to me. A moment of the day I can just empty out my thoughts and emotions. And fill up my cup. With things that are just me. Not a mum, not a wife. Just me.

So mums make sure you take that time out. Reach out and embrace it.

We are all uniquely made. Some of us need it more. Some less. But make sure you get that ‘me’ time. Fight for it. Demand it. Do not, above all feel guilty about it. You deserve it.

I suck at business.

I generally suck at life as an adult.

I like lazy saturdays (and Mondays, and Wednesdays) ….sitting in the sun, with a breeze coming through the terrace windows. Writing, and watching netflix, and checking facebook.

Why shouldn’t life be this awesome all the time?

I shall leave the world-saving to other people who like to work hard.

Is that as bad as it sounds?

Yes, It is.

But really tho. I like my life (most days)

I work 3 days a week. Just enough to cover my expenses.

The rest of the time, I lounge, spend time with family, and enjoy my baby.

Wallah it’s beautiful.

When I get stressed out that my uni colleagues are making strides to further heir careers and I’m just treading water….I remind myself that I dont have to wake up at 5am every day. And naps. I take lots of naps.

LOL.

Love you all.

So, non-surprisingly, not a lot has been written about Afro-Arabs. (Try google that term, or anything related to it. You just get Arabs in Morocco/Algeria. Doesn’t reeeeally count)

Buy, hey, we exist. (Here I am!) I’ve written about this before on the blog.

Today, I continue my chronicles about learning to love this curly hair I have, when the society around me is programmed to love whiteness, straightness, and all things Euro-Centric.

So, I did made my own flax seed gel yesterday (finally!) , and I loved loved loved how it made my hair feel. Soft. Curly. Not crunchy. Not dry. Just happy little curlies all over my head.

Showed it to my mum, like: ‘ Hey feel my hair mummy, it feels and looks awesome!’

She scrunched up her face and says: ‘Yes, but why does it look like that?

I’m like : ‘You don’t like it?’

She responds :’ No, I like it better straight.’ (My hair was blow dried and flat ironed last week)

Sigh.

‘Well, mum this is how it grows out of my head. God gave me curly hair not straight. So I love it like this’

Way to kill my happy vibe mum. Lol.

But, it’s okay. I’m used to it.

One person who always supports my hair escapades, no matter how crazy I look? My husband. Love him!

Do you miss me?

Even if just for a little while?

Do you miss me?

Miss the way I smiled?

The way I pushed my head back to laugh,

Laugh.

And laugh.

And laugh.

Because, I miss me.

Haven’t seen me in a while.

Looked all over.

Thought maybe you’d be able to find

A trace.

For I am done searching.

Maybe she…

I?

‘Me’…..will come,

When I’m finally done.

Done breathing too.

Hey you

I was lost once

I was a sea of loneliness

A muddled up, deep chasm of half-wishes

Pining away, at picket fences and pretty dresses.

You wouldn’t have noticed me then

You wouldn’t have paid me no mind

I was too busy hiding the sad

It’s okay.

I’m better now.

The sad,

Is only an occasional visiting distant relative

The chasm,

You’ve filled it up with new.

`

My baby just started walking. On the 13th of August. 26th August was his first time to use the potty properly. I’ll spare you the deets. Lol.

There are so many firsts lately. Alhamdulillah. Its hard to keep up. I’m just trying to enjoy every moment. Every first.

He is so proud that he can walk now. It was a long process until that final day he could actually walk. Started with being able to stand on his own. Then his first two steps. Then the day he took four steps. And then the day he finally took SEVERAL steps. Subhanallah. In coast we say ‘miguu yatoka mbali’ Meaning we came a long way to be able to finally walk.

And boy did my little baby have determination.  Every day. Stood up and sat down like a million times to build his balance and muscle strength. Then the first step… Falls down. Gets up. Falls down again. The dedication and training.

Then came the issue of balance. He walks around in circles…and falls a LOT. To practice balance.

Then came the day he finally was able to  carry an object  and walk with it. His chair. Lol. Then his ball. Now it’s two balls. He likes walking around with two balls in his arms. Just because he can.

I’m privileged to witness this journey.

I’m so proud to be his mum.

And so crushingly worried about him all the time.

Salaams everybody. Motherhoods been keeping me busy.

Bisous.

I have such low moods. Cyclical. I’m sure its some sort of condition. Menstrual cycle related perhaps? It would be nice if i could predict their coming. I inevitably have a huge blow out with hubby. Without fail.

It’s like this anger bubbles inside me. And I push and prod, until I have an excuse to let it all out, on my unsuspecting (not entirely innocent ;)) hubby. Poor him. Its cathartic though. That release.

And then I spend the next month building it up again.

Now I really should do something about it.

Heard about this natural supplement I think I may look for it at the health food store and try it. I think its graca root or something like that. From Hey Fran Hey.

Lately though, I’m just in a funk. A really deep funk. That I can pop my head out of now and again. But inevitably slide back in. Like right now. In this moment.

It feels like my heart is stuck in quicksand. My whole body feels heavy with dejection. My mind feels foggy, and tingly. And mind numbingly slow. I feel sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo slow. Sad. And slow. And without motivation.

I’m forced to do however. Do…everything. Eat, drink, sleep, shower…look after my baby. Lol. Because life doesn’t stop for your low moods. And the fact that I’m forced to do. Makes me angry.

So I alternate between low mood and simmering anger.

Yea.

That’s me.

Now, I realise this is my normal. To some extent. I’ve been like this since about 3rd year of University. So maybe 10 years or so.

I realise some people are just built that way. We don’t stay at equilibrium at all times. We are a bit off kilter now and again. And maybe that’s just how it is. Its okay.

I love myself anyway.

I feel horrible I subject my family to my outbursts now and again.

But I hope that the positive outweighs the negative. And the family giggle fest and sock fight (we were throwing socks at each other) made up for outburst later (when hubby woke up the baby for the THIRD time) To be fair the first two times, I didn’t complain at all….lol.

So all of you that can relate to this…hit me up.

Love and Kisses

QQ

I have become an inadvertent porn site.

Lol.

The post with the most views is ‘How Breasts Can Be Useful’

And search items that lead them there is ‘Indian Girl Boobs’

LOOOOOOOOOOOOOL.

Sad. And funny.

Sorry horny men who end up on my blog. No porno here. Just the musings of a young-ish Kenyan Girl.