I’m Nervous

I wrote earlier this week about how I didn’t want to leave V and go to London for six days (I Don’t Know If I Can Do It).  My reasons for leaving him are, I have to admit, quite selfish.  I didn’t want to fly with him on my own.  I’ve got to sort out his birthday party stuff while I’m there – and he won’t remember my mum, so he won’t stay with her alone, which means I won’t be able to get on with whatever I have to.  

My parents, it seems (or so they constantly tell me) had no problems leaving me when I was V’s age.  And many times after that.

I thought I’d be a lot stronger – but it turns out I’m not.  I spent a few nights not being able to sleep.  I cried until 5am and cleaned out a couple of cupboards.  It was during one of these sessions that I decided I’d just take him.  How could I leave my baby??  I would, of course, be leaving him in the best of hands…  But still!  It was only when I broached the subject with Hub that I found out…  V’s passport wasn’t with us.  It had been sent to Abuja to get his visa sorted and would take two weeks.  I felt, strangely, relieved.  My decision had been made for me.  I didn’t have any choice.  I couldn’t take him…  Is that terrible of me?

Why didn’t I just change my flight?  I *have* to be back so I can start organising the party – sending out invites, ordering the cake, etc.  

And then… Yesterday I found out that his passport was ready.  I was thrilled that I could take him if I wanted to, but, yet again, I was torn apart.  My decision had been undecided.  Late last night, after yet more worrying, I thought – f*** it.  I’m taking him.  I can’t bear to leave him.  My parents haven’t seen him since April, and may not see him again until December.  My brother last saw V when he was six weeks old and I want to do things with him.  I want to take him to the park.  I want him to crawl in the grass.  I want him to eat the bread when we go feed the ducks and I’d like to take him to the zoo.

But I’m scared and very, very nervous…

I’ve never flown alone with him.

His changing bag is usually very heavy.  Combine that with *him* and my own hand-luggage and I’m going to need a back-brace. 

I’m short.  5ft 1.  I can’t reach the overhead storage compartments!  How am I going to get the bag down??

What if I need the loo?  What if he does a poo?  What if he wants to crawl around everywhere?  What if the person next to me gets irritated?  What if he cries non-stop at landing (like the last 3 flights)?

How am I going to carry him, collect my luggage and put it all on the trolley?  And if I put him in his stroller, and I have a trolley – who will push the trolley?

Should I take the Baby Bjorn?  Then I can carry him on me and load everything (including stroller) on the trolley…?

I’m confused.  Maybe it would be easier to just leave him behind?

Nooo!  I couldn’t do that!  Look at his face, could you leave him?


But seriously… Any advice would be VERY welcome!

I Got My HotPants – Now I Just Have To Exercise In Them…

Finally.  Finally, finally, finally I’ve got my HotPants!  It is SO exciting.

I can’t remember when I ordered them – it seems like so long ago!  They arrived ages ago – but I only just got them last week.  I just realised that makes no sense – let me explain.  The lovely people at HotPants offered to post them to me in Lagos, but I didn’t think that was a very good idea.  The postal service here used to be terrible.  Once a letter came two years after it was sent (from India).  It has recently become better – Hub got a parcel last week from the US and it only took a week.  I guess you never know.  Anyway, so I asked them to post the HotPants to my sister/parents in London and then we would figure out how to get them here (this usually involves asking very dear friends for favours (thank you GRH!))

My mum called to tell me that her cousin was coming to Lagos on the 17th of July.  I didn’t hear from her on the 18th – no problem, it was a Sunday anyway and everyone was chilling at home.  Didn’t hear from her on the 19th either.  Was beginning to get a bit worried.  Why hadn’t she called yet?  And I didn’t want to call her – because maybe she hadn’t unpacked yet or was busy.  Then on the 19th afternoon she pinged.  I forgot that I’d changed my number.  And she didn’t have the new one!  I wanted desperately to go and collect my parcel right then – but I’d heard from many people that the traffic around the Island was terrible because of David Cameron and Goodluck Jonathan’s visit.  A journey that should take 10 minutes could take up to 3 hours.  I’d waited so long already, I figured one more day wouldn’t hurt.

So now.. I have them.  I tore open the plastic and looked at them.  I think I was expecting cycling shorts material type thing…  I put them on and my heart sank.  I was going to have to LOSE WEIGHT BEFORE I COULD ZIP THEM UP!  I should have ordered a large!  Not a medium!  Have no fear – I thought to zip them up before pulling them all the way up.  *SIGH of relief*

I don’t feel hot or sweaty while I wear them and it’s only when I take them off that I realise how hot I am!

I’ve been wearing them for a week – but not noticed my clothes feeling bigger yet (but I also haven’t been exercising).  This could be because I haven’t been anywhere, and therefore not worn any thing other than my HotPants or pjs/trackies…  

Will update as and when!


If you want to order your HotPants, use my voucher code for a 10% discount!

I Don’t Know If I Can Do It…

I’m going to London next week.  Just for six days – but still… It’s London!  There’s no where quite like London in the summer (please let it be summer).

I am quite excited about seeing my parents and siblings, going to my favourite restaurants and shops and walking on the street!  It is such a feeling of freedom – being able to finally walk wherever I want.

So with all this to look forward to, why am I worrying so much?  Why can’t I sleep at night?  Why do I keep bursting into tears?

I’m leaving my baby behind.  While I’d love to take him, I don’t want to uproot him for just six days.  Last time we travelled, it took him weeks to get back into his routine.

Will he miss me?  Will he wonder where I am?  Will he look around my room, expecting to see me?  What if he says his first real word while I’m away?  What if he takes his first independent steps?  Will I ever be able to forgive myself for not being there?

Maybe I should take him…

I’m ‘Thinking Slimmer’ – The Next 21 Days

After posting I’m ‘Thinking Slimmer’ – The First 21 Days and being a little disappointed by the results, I feel nervous and impatient about whether the next 21 days will be better…  I lost only 1 kilo.  I know – I’ve read it several times – it takes longer for some people than others.  I guess I’m one of those!

During my pregnancy I put on a *lot* of weight.  About 20 kilos.  44 lbs.  3 stone 2 lb.  The maternity jeans I bought when I was 4 months pregnant, didn’t fit by the time I was 8 months pregnant.  And while I was pregnant, I was quite happy to be fat!  The picture below was taken at my baby shower.  I was six and a half months pregnant then.


When Vinay was born at only 2.5 kilos, Hub asked, ‘If he’s only 2.5 kilos, how did you put on so much weight?’ Or something along those lines.  I cried.  But that didn’t stop me eating whatever I wanted or drinking Coke every day (usually during the day when he was at work and wouldn’t find out).

Once Vindoo turned seven months, I decided that enough was enough.  I had to at least start trying to lose the baby weight.  When I looked in the mirror, all I saw was a fat face, fat arms, big, huge thighs and a belly with an over-hang because of the c-section.  Looking at photos was worse – because it was proof that what I see is what other people also see.  The photo below was taken when Vindoo was six and a half months old.  I know – I look like I’m having twins.  And the problem is, Vindoo’s turning ten months in three days, and I don’t think I look any different to the below photo!  I *need* to fit back into my size 12 clothes.  I *want* my face to not look like a Mr. Potato-Head.


Although my Slimpod hasn’t (so far) worked as fast as I’d like, I have noticed changes in the last 21 days.  Some of these are:

* I work out 4 times a week (usually).  And if for any reason I can’t make it to my class, I try and do something at home.  Or I just feel guilty about not doing anything.

* I haven’t had a Coke.  And… I don’t really want one *just realised this is true and jaw has hit desk*.

* I’ve cut down on the amount of sweets/chocolates/cake I normally eat.

* I feel better about myself (until I see pre-pregnancy photos)

So, here’s the next 21 days…

Day 22 – Day 27

I only did two aerobics classes during these days – but they were hard work!  I mostly had light lunches, and didn’t snack much.  On the Friday (Day 25) I had to go out for lunch.  I was very surprised at myself – I had a Soda water (when the person opposite me had a Coke I thought I would want one, but didn’t).  I had about 3 French fries (unheard of).  I didn’t have the ice cream (although I had some apple crumble).  And the cup cake… I saved it for Hub and then had 2 bites.  On Day 26 we went to a friend’s house for dinner – and the food there is always delicious… But I did not have double-helpings of anything.  And I had a little dessert – not half as much as I would normally eat!

I weighed myself on Day 27.  Since Day 1, I have lost 3.5lbs.  Surely it should be disappearing faster than this??

Day 28 – Day 34

No workout this week – Pilates teacher is on holiday and aerobics teacher was having surgery on her toe.  She’s not taking classes for two weeks.  And I’ve not felt motivated enough to do any working-out at home!  I’ve not been doing too badly, I don’t think.  Still no Coke this week.  I didn’t snack between meals until Day 32 when I had a bag of salted popcorn.  I felt guilty – but it was just so good!  This has not been a good week at all.  I have already told myself that I will start the whole process over again when I finish Day 42!

I weighed myself on Day 34.  I haven’t lost any weight.  But I guess it’s good that I’ve not put any on?

Day 35 – 42

I’ve done really well this week.  I haven’t worked out, but I’ve not had *any* chocolate (apart from two bites of cake on mil’s birthday).  And Hub and I decided to have a potato-free week.  And it wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be.  It’s actually been really easy!  I’m so proud of myself!  Sunday was a little difficult – it always is.  I had ice cream 😦  But I’m still proud of myself.

I weighed myself on Day 40.  In total, I’ve lost 4.4lbs.

Can this be correct?  How is this possible?  All I see on Twitter is stories of weight melting off people.  My eating habits have definitely changed – and I’m pleased about that, but shouldn’t I have lost more weight?  It has been 42 days!

I will continue on my quest to lose the baby weight, and I will continue with Thinking Slimmer…  

I WILL WIN!  It will just be harder than I thought…


My Darling Boy


My Darling Boy, 

You are growing up so fast, it makes me feel sad.

Soon you won’t need or want me to hold you.

Or rock you.  Or walk you.

Soon you won’t be able to fit in my lap.

And I won’t get any more toothless grins.

It makes me sad, but there are so many things I am looking forward to.

I cannot wait until you say your first word (and it better be ‘mama’).

I cannot wait until you can sing and do the actions to the action rhymes we listen to (rather than just watch me as though I’ve lost the plot).

I cannot wait until you can walk independently.  I know it’s going to be a mission watching you all the time, but I can’t wait.

I cannot wait until we can do art and craft activities together.

I cannot wait until you listen to stories without eating the books or tearing the pages.  I have so many books to share with you.

I cannot wait until you can play football with your papa.

I cannot wait until you draw your first picture.

I cannot wait until you can spell and write your name.

I cannot wait to do your homework with you.

I cannot wait to be your Tooth Fairy, Santa Claus and Easter Bunny.

I sit and think about all the things you will be able to do and all the things we’ll do together and I can’t wait.

I cannot wait.


Oh, Vinay!  Now look what you made me do! *wipes eyes*

I Didn’t Want to Do Baby Massage

I never thought about baby massage during my pregnancy.  I didn’t think about reading up on it or finding out what it entailed.  It didn’t really matter.  

I had been told by mil that she massaged her two boys and ‘look how strong and handsome they are’, ‘they cried so much during their massages – but that’s good because their lungs ‘opened-up’.  My sister-in-law said that it will upset me to see mil massage the baby because he will cry so much, but I must let her do it because it’s really helped her son.  To be honest, I was quite dubious and wasn’t sure if I liked the idea of this whole baby massage thing, but I tried to keep an open mind.

My mum didn’t massage any of us, so she wasn’t adamant about it.  FYI, we’re all strong and healthy.

A couple of weeks after V was born, mil came round to do the massage.  I was horrified.  He screamed, he cried and it really looked painful.  This happened a few times and I could not say ‘no’ – for reasons I cannot explain here.  All I can tell you is, apparently, ‘it’s the Indian way’.

Once the in-laws left London to come back to Lagos (Hub included.  He was all for the massaging, in case you were wondering), I stopped doing it.  I would sometimes, half-heartedly, rub some oil on him.  But neither he nor I enjoyed it.

Meanwhile, mil was calling every day to check we were all ok and every day she asked if I was massaging the baby.  I just kept saying, yes.  Yes, yes, yes.  I’m doing it.

As it came nearer to me leaving London and coming home to Lagos, I started worrying.  I knew mil would be over a lot.  I knew she would watch me do the massage or want to do it herself.  What was I going to do?  I understood that massaging would be *good* for him, but I didn’t want to do it *that* way.

That is when I started researching.  I was so surprised!  Baby massage didn’t have to be a horrible experience for mum or baby!  It was bonding time!  And the benefits were numerous – many in common with what mil had told me.

So I found this place – Kailash Centre of Oriental Medicine.  I made an appointment with a lovely lady called Amy and I had a private baby massage lesson.  It was so relaxing!  And V was so happy!  THIS.  THIS is what it’s meant to be about.  The first rule of baby massage is: Don’t do it if the baby’s not happy!

I started massaging him every day and V and I both got used to the routine.

Then I bought Baby Massage and Yoga: Teach Yourself by Anita Epple.  I read it, I used it, we both loved it!  It is very easy to follow as the strokes are clearly described and so is the accompanying diagram.  Unfortunately, we didn’t get to work our way through the whole book because once V started crawling, he usually just turned over and crawled away mid-massage.  Or he would want to stand.  So we don’t do the massage part too much anymore which makes me a little sad.

But we still do a little of the baby yoga and we both enjoy it 🙂


Getting ready for his massage (rather, waiting for Mama to get everything ready!). 

The Gallery – Vintage

According to Wikipedia, clothing from the 1920s to the 1980s is considered vintage.


It’s hideous, isn’t it?  NO!  It’s not mine – it’s my mum’s dress!

She bought it in 1985 or 86 (she can’t remember) and wore it two (or three) times.  I told her she must have been an Alexis Colby wannabe in those days!  She paid an extortionate amount of money for it – I nearly fainted when she told me how much.  With that money, I could buy…  I don’t know – a lot!  How it came to be in my possession is another story altogether!

The dress is so heavy on the beaded, sequined shoulder I couldn’t get it to sit on the hanger properly!

And here we have the back


Shoulder Detail


Sleeve Detail


UGH *shudder* I think I’m going to have nightmares!