Category: Stuff

Family Complete

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Last week a friend of mil’s came to visit Baby V.

The two of them hadn’t met in a while and were having a catch up.

Talk turned to someone they know who has a two (I’m guessing) year old daughter and just recently had a baby boy.

One of the women says, ‘Oh, so now their family is complete?’

And the other replies (while shaking her head from side to side (Indian style)), ‘Yah yah – family complete.

I sat there becoming more and more irritated.

WTF.

Since when does having one boy and one girl make a family ‘complete’? Is my family incomplete because I have two boys? If I had a third child and that one turned out to be a boy as well, would my family still be incomplete?

I find these archaic views of life so frustrating that I wanted to just scream.

But I didn’t.

I just shut up and smiled. This time.

Christmas Stuff

LagosMum1 Comment

This is the first year we’ve been in Lagos for Christmas for a really long time. My third time in the last ten years. The last time we were here was when I came back with V1 when he was twelve weeks old. We put a tree up that year – but didn’t do presents or anything like that.

This year, I wanted to make it really special for V1 and for V2 as it was his first Christmas (not that he would remember.

So I just wanted to share a few of our Christmas pictures.

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Insecurity

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I got Rolo (my Lhasa Apso) before LagosDad and I were married. In fact, I got him before we were even engaged. He was, in every way, my baby.

I fed him, I bathed him, I walked him, I cleared up his messes and I comforted him during thunderstorms.

Things, of course, changed slightly once LagosDad moved in. Rolo couldn’t understand why he wasn’t allowed to sleep on the other side of the bed, and LagosDad couldn’t understand why each time he got out of bed and came back, the dog was in his space!

Rolo was still my baby though!

When I went away to have V1, I was gone for over five months. I know Rolo was well taken care of in my absense – but I missed him. I even cried when I said goodbye to him. And (confession time), when I first held V1, I may have (ok, I did) cooed at him and called him a ‘good dog’ (oops).

Of course once I came back, it was all change again. Rolo went so nuts when I walked through the door, that he didn’t even notice the baby in the car seat. And when he did notice, I put the car seat down on the floor and let him have a good sniff and an all over lick of the baby (much to some people’s horror). I saw no reason to not let him continue to share the bed. And I didn’t mind if he rolled over on V1’s playmat. As far as I was concerned, I was boosting the baby’s immune system!

But… even though all that happened/was allowed – things were different for Rolo. Even though he still got a lot of love and attention – he didn’t get as much as before. I was busy. I had a baby. Poor Rolo – he adopted an old Care Bear of mine in the weeks following our return. This Care Bear became his security blanket. Or, as I like to call it, his Hump Buddy. He took the bear with him everywhere he went. Upstairs, downstairs, this room, that room. Everywhere. He humped it, he chewed it, he slept with it, he ripped its nose off and he pulled its stuffing out. And, (I think) when he was wishing ill upon the new baby in the house, he chewed its neck. He did this a lot.

Rolo and his Care Bear

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(Sorry for the poor picture quality)

So the state of the bear in the above picture isn’t actually that bad. While I was away this time, having V2, the bear was ripped to shreds (by him) and was thrown away.

When I came back, Rolo, now ten years old, was ecstatic. As was I. I’d missed him. A lot. He was very happy to see V1 as well (quite indifferent to V2) and spent the first three days trying to hump him! Finally I told V1 that we had to go through all his cuddly toys and find which ones he wouldn’t mind Rolo having. He picked out about four (with my approval) and we lined them up, ready for Rolo to choose. He chose the biggest bear of them all (one my mum bought me when I was 15). It’s actually bigger than him! This bear is already being dragged up and down stairs, in and out of rooms and some of its stuffing has been pulled out already!

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Poor Rolo. I think his choice of bear relates directly to how insecure he’s feeling!

Fisbee – The Elf on the Shelf

LagosMum3 Comments

Now I know most of you already know about The Elf on the Shelf – I already knew about it too. I’ve just been anxiously waiting for V1 to be excited about Christmas before getting one!

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When he came home from school yesterday, he went straight to his room. And there he saw The Elf. The nanny and I claimed no knowledge as to how it got there.
I sat V down and started to read the accompanying story. He kept staring at the Elf suspiciously and interrupted every other word with, “What’s he doing here?” “Who is he watching?” “Why?”
I told him Santa had sent him to watch over all of us. And that he was going to report back to Santa on our behaviour every night. V looked at the Elf again and said, “I want to throw him in the bin.”
I know the whole elf thing is meant to be about the children – but I’d been looking forward to this for at least three years! No no no. I couldn’t have this.
So I told him to let me finish the story and he could ask me questions afterwards. (Once a teacher…)
I finished the story and explained it all to him over again. And he got excited about it. Finally!
He named the Elf Fisbee  (which was one of the suggested names in the book). I was pushing for Buddy (like in the movie Elf), but he wasn’t having any of that. And I didn’t want to push my luck!
He happily told LagosDad and his grandparents about Fisbee.
And he was super excited to find Fisbee hanging off a light in the living room this morning. He even went so far as to say, “I’m going to be a good boy all day today!”
So fingers crossed that the excitement continues…
And that he is a “good” boy all day!

The Advent Calendar

LagosMum1 Comment

So here a couple of things I didn’t think about before buying V1 his first chocolate Advent calendar…
1. Ants
2. Melted chocolates
3. Can be used to bribe V1 top do his Kumon
4. Dog might get to chocolate before any of us

So the calendar will be kept in the fridge and only taken out to open the door, discuss the numbers and look at the pictures. This WILL only happen after the Kumon is done. And we’ll have to be careful not to drop any more of the chocolates!

The Wedding

LagosMum6 Comments

One of the biggest plus points of being in London over the summer meant that I could attend my cousin’s wedding. If I were going to have the baby in Dubai, as was the original plan, this wouldn’t have been possible.

The wedding was fantastic – three nights of partying. Everything went according to plan, the entertainment was brilliant and, of course, the bride was beautiful.

So three nights of partying. For everyone else! I couldn’t drink – but I danced until 3 and 4 in the morning! I had to sleep for two days after the reception, but I enjoyed myself.

I met so many people I hadn’t met in years and got to catch up with lots of family.

There was one girl I kept seeing. She looked familiar, but I just couldn’t place her. I asked someone her name and then realised I had no idea who she was.

She very randomly approached me at the reception and told me she was worried that her dress may fall off. Let me just reiterate – I don’t know her and she doesn’t know me. She then went on to tell me that she had recently lost a bit of weight after going to a nutritionist and that she was feeling great. She then said she wanted to lose more because she wants to look good. I heard about her friend who did some diet and how well it worked, etc. I tried to add a comment here and there, but the music was really loud and we could barely hear each other.

Then she asked me where I was staying. I told her. She said she wasn’t far from there and maybe we should meet up sometime. I nodded. She still didn’t know my name! She gave me her phone to put in my details and then gave me a missed call so I had her number.

Then she said: Isn’t it awful that women don’t support each other or share their weight loss secrets? We should meet for a nice big glass of wine and talk about how we can support each other while trying to lose weight.

Ummm…

I told her I wasn’t drinking until September-ish. She made a face.

I told her it was because I’m pregnant.

She tried not to look surprised!

Basically, she had this very long and boring conversation with me because she thought I was fat. Not pregnant!

Where I Am…

LagosMum11 Comments

Ok, so here’s where I am with things…

The first thing I had to do was book-in with my previous ob/gyn.  I booked-in late, but he is squeezing me in.  That was a huge relief!  We still have to pay the extortionate hospital deposit, and I’m hoping that will be done this week.

The second thing I had to do was find an apartment.  I emailed many agents about dozens of flats.  Zoopla is my new favourite website.  I got some leads.  Some didn’t even bother replying.  Finding a short-let during the summer, in central London and in our budget proved to be a bit challenging.  Especially since we were looking for a three bedroom/two bathroom place.

I found one place which was perfect for us (the living area seems a bit small from the pictures, but it will have to do).  The agent and I were in touch for the longest time.  She wanted all sorts of details, which was fine.  And then when we confirmed that we wanted the place, the amount of paperwork we had to produce was ridiculous.  I’m not sure if it’s because we’re overseas, or if that’s what’s usually done.  While this was going on, I was also in touch with another agent regarding a second place.  The price was the same, but it seemed bigger and was in another area which I would have been happy to stay in.  According to the agent, the landlord of that flat wanted to know if we could pay six months’ rent up front.  No.  Well then, did we have a UK guarantor?  Yes.  What was his job/role/company, etc?  Told him.  Did he/she make circa 100,000 GBP/year?  Was this landlord mental?  Could we send them bank statements?  Yes, we could.  In the end I stopped communicating with them.  Not because I didn’t want that flat, but I got so fed up.  If you have a list of questions, can you please send them to me all at once?  Instead of asking me one, waiting for me to answer (all via email) and then sending me another?  Ridiculous.

Anyway, so the first place is confirmed.  The only thing is, there’s no TV, Internet, bedding, tumble dryer.  We’ll have to organise all this once we get there.  Is it possible to get WiFi without a landline?  And is it the norm to not have all this included?  Or does it just depend on the individual landlord?

The third thing on my list was the nanny’s visa.  She has come to Dubai with us.  And she’s even come to Bali.  When we go to Dubai, the travel agent organises her visa for us and when we went to Bali, she got a visa on arrival.  Getting a UK visa was a whole new ball game for us.  Again, the paperwork we needed was excessive.  The online application was looooong!  And it wasn’t cheap either.  We submitted everything and she had her appointment for her biometrics etc on 7th May.  It took two hours to submit all the paperwork and process everything.  They told her it would take 15 working days.  We waited and waited to hear.  It was after 21 working days that we got the text message that the passport was ready for collection.  And…  She got her visa!  Hurrah!

I’ve also organised all the ‘baby stuff’ I need to take with us.  Baby bottles (new), baby blankets (some new), baby clothes (very few, V’s old ones), etc.  I’ve just shoved it all in an empty cupboard for now.

I’ve ordered all the freight from the UK – Pampers – sizes 3 and 4, new light fittings for the children’s rooms, new bed for V, formula for baby, dog treats (not for baby), toiletries (for baby).

I’ve moved all the furniture round, so that all the baby furniture that was in V’s room is now in the playroom (now the nursery) and so that all the toys that were in the playroom are now all in V’s room.  I’ll probably put the children in the same room eventually, but not just yet.

I’ve peeled all the animal stickers off V’s walls so that LagosDad can have the room painted before we come back.  I thought V would be a little upset to see the stickers go, but he wasn’t.  I guess this is just another sign that he’s growing up!  He actually helped me to peel some of them off.  We worked together and chatted.  I mentioned to him that Papa was going to paint the room before we came back.

A couple of days ago we were talking about leaving and how we all had to pack, etc. and I said something about LagosDad coming with us.  V said, ‘I don’t think Papa should come with us to London.’  Oh?  Poor LagosDad.  He’d be upset to hear that V doesn’t want him around.  I replied, ‘Oh?  But why not?’  V responded, ‘Don’t you remember Mama?  Papa has to paint my room!’

So, we’re nearly there.  We leave in 10 days.  But I haven’t booked flights yet.

I better get on that.

 

Pre-School Assessment

LagosMum2 Comments

Before I even had V, LagosDad and I talked about which school we’d send our children to.  The choices aren’t vast, but there are certainly more than when we were growing up.

I went to the American International School (AIS) from kindergarten until I was 11.  At 11 I went to boarding school in the UK.

LagosDad went to the Indian Language School (ILS) until he was 13.  At 13 he went to boarding school in the UK also.

So, it makes sense that I wanted my children to go to the same school as me (not boarding).  And he wanted his children to go to the same school as him (including boarding).

Let me just say that one of the main reasons that we were sent to boarding schools is that there weren’t many (any?) high school options here at that time.

Anyway – so LagosDad was quite adamant that our children would need a solid foundation and that ILS was the place for them to be.  There was no way in hell I was allowing that.  I know about the Indian school system.  And while they do provide a good foundation, I think there are more important things that children should be learning at the age of three, rather than their times tables (I jest – I don’t know if they learn them at three!)  They are very strict and I don’t want my child(ren) rote learning.  Shouldn’t a three-year-old be learning how to share?  How to use scissors?  How to colour in the lines?

Anyway, after V actually arrived, I started thinking the British system might be better.  Not for any reason.  It was just a thought.

Of course there was lots of talk between all the mums.  The mums that already had their kids in school were like cheerleaders for the educational choices they’d made for their children.  And those that had babies (yes, this talk started from when our kids were about a year old) got more and more confused.

I ended up registering V at both schools – NOT ILS, but AIS and another British one.  LagosDad knew ILS wasn’t going to happen and (finally) accepted it!

I registered V at AIS when he was two and at the British one on the “first working Monday of September after the child turned two” (those are their rules).  He wouldn’t start at the British school until September 2015, but I thought I’d register him anyway because of waiting lists.

After the AIS registration, I received an email from the school saying I had to email them every 90 days to keep the application active.  So I did that – every 90 days without fail.

I started to understand (eventually) that it didn’t really matter what any of the others (mums) were doing with their children and where or when they were going to school.  What mattered was MY child and what suited him.

Yes, the British curriculum is more advanced than the American one.  But in the end, the children all learn the same things – it’s just a different process of getting there.

During this light bulb moment, I began to see (and so did LagosDad) that the American school environment is just what V needs.  He’s a smart kid – I know everyone says that about their children – but I really think he is!  He wouldn’t struggle in a British school.  But because he’s an introvert and a little shy and nervous in large groups of people, AIS is just what he needs.  They focus on the whole child.  They’ll help with his self confidence and maybe even bring him out of his shell a little.

So now we were decided – it was going to be AIS.

I’d heard stories from other mums about how difficult it was to get their kids in and how some kids were on the waiting list for a year and still hadn’t been offered a place.  Apparently, also, the later you apply, the harder it is to get in.

So you can imagine my joy when I received an email from them last month, inviting V to come in for his pre-school assessment.  I called them immediately and made an appointment for 12th May.  They gave me a time of 8.20am, which wasn’t ideal – but I wasn’t going to complain!

I do wonder why you need assessments for a three-year-old.  And I think it’s a little silly – but if that’s how they do things, then that’s how they do them!

So friends told me, ‘If you get the email, you’re basically in.’  And that the assessment is just ‘formality’.  And what they’re looking for is learning difficulties.  One friend told me they asked her son when his birthday was during his assessment.

So I knew, V would have to play with blocks or do a puzzle or something and that the teacher might ask him when his birthday is.  And I also knew that I’d have to wait in the office for him to come back.

I started getting anxious about him going with a stranger to another room.  Would he actually go?  Would he make a fuss?  Have a tantrum?  Then I started worrying that he wouldn’t speak to the teacher.  And if he did speak to her, would he give her the answers she wanted to hear?

I started ‘preparing’ him about two weeks ago.  I explained we were going to AIS and he was going to meet a teacher who would take him to play, etc. etc.  I told him almost every day.  He’s one of those that needs to know what’s coming!

I also asked him when his birthday was (just in case)…

Me: V, when’s your birthday?

V: I’m going to have a Batman party and everyone has to wear black.

Me: Ok, that’s fine.  But when is your birthday?

V: July.

Me: Mmmmm… No it’s not.  It’s in September.

V: No mama.  It’s in July.

Me: No Vins, it’s in September!

V: IT’S IN JULY.  I SAID IT IS IN JULY!

I dropped it for a few days!

Each time I (very randomly) asked him about his birthday he always had the same answer.  I didn’t even know he KNEW the month July!

Last week we had a breakthrough.  I told him I knew his birthday was in September because he shares his birthday month with Rolo (the dog).  After that he was very happy to say his birthday was in September *face palm*

Anyway, so the morning of the assessment dawned and off we went to AIS.  We had to wait in the office for a bit as we were slightly early.  But this was good, because he saw the teacher come in and he saw two other little boys go with her.

Then it was his turn.  She came in and asked for him by name.  I said, ‘Here he is.’  She approached him and said, ‘Hi V!’

And what did V do?

He growled at her.

Yes.  He GROWLED.

I apologised and told her he was being a cheetah that morning.  She tried again, ‘Oh!  Are you a cheetah?’

He growled.  AGAIN!

Luckily she got distracted with the secretary for a moment and I was able to tell him to ‘stop that nonsense’!

I’m actually relieved he didn’t hide behind my legs!

He was reluctant to go with her, but he went.  And he wouldn’t hold her hand, but that’s ok.  She was a stranger, after all!

I waited for him – laughing in my head about him growling, but hoping she wouldn’t think he was nuts and that it wouldn’t affect his chances of getting in!

Finally he was back!  She said he was very quiet and only spoke with a lot of prompting.  Hmmm…  I guess that’s to be expected?

She gave me a list of ‘skills’ that he needs to be able to perform by August and I had to sign the paper and return it when he started.  They were things like being able to go to the bathroom by himself, asking for water or to go to the bathroom, etc. Being able to sit still/concentrate for short periods of time, being able to share toys, eat by himself, etc. etc.

He is quite proficient in most of them, so I’m not worried.  Plus he won’t start in August as we won’t be here, he’ll start in October.  So we have more time to work on things!

What I’m wondering is, does this mean we’re in?  Why would she give me a paper to sign and tell me to bring it back if he wasn’t in?

(Once we left, he told me he did a puzzle in the classroom, but he wouldn’t tell me anything else.  He won’t tell me what the teacher asked him or anything and it’s driving me crazy!)

Anyway, this is one more thing to cross off my list of things to do/worry about!

*Just for your information – I’ve had many people ask me why I don’t want to put V in the school where I taught for six years.  I left four years ago and I don’t know what it’s like there any more.  But you know when you know the inner-workings of a place?  And what the management, etc is like?  Well…  That.  It put me off.

 

Toddlers & Tiaras

LagosMum4 Comments

I never get the TV to myself these days. Usually we’re watching Andy and his Dinosaur Adventures or Nina and the Neurons. Actually – anything  on CBeebies is what’s usually on!

Pair that with the fact that LagosDad has been home with a trapped nerve for three days (God help me) – and I’ve had no time to myself.

I don’t know how it happened, but I was lucky enough to be able to choose what I wanted to watch yesterday.

I flicked through the channels and saw that Say Yes To The Dress was on soon. I won’t rave about the show – many think I’m very sad for watching it!

Anyway so before the show started, Toddlers and Tiaras was on.

Have you ever seen it?

I know the show has caused a lot of controversy. I can understand people think it’s an appalling extra-curricular activity for children to partake in. And I think I can see how some parents might enjoy dressing up their daughters every weekend. Like they’re dolls or something. I realise that some mums have other reasons for entering their children in beauty pageants – I just can’t think of any.

So in the episode I watched yesterday there was an eighteen month old who didn’t really know what was going on around her. By the end of the episode her dad was saying, “I think she’s probably a bit tired now. It’s been a long day.”  You think?!

There was a three-year-old who, according to one of the judges, “didn’t make enough eye contact”.

And there was a six-year-old who, according to another judge, “had a fake smile”.

At one point, the three-year-old came on stage for her swimwear bit and got distracted by one of her fake nails which was falling off. It bothered her and she didn’t know what to do about it.  A judge commented saying the toddler would get marked down for ‘personality’ because of that and the eye contact issue.

The child is THREE Ffs!

I was quite horrified by it all. You can think whatever you want about your own child – but to have people on television saying your child has no personality, moves stiffly, has a fake smile, etc has to be an absolute no-no. No?

I think the worst part for me was watching the awards at the end. The categories were things like “prettiest eyes” and “most beautiful”.  Who the f*ck are they to judge on what’s pretty or beautiful?  Aren’t all children beautiful?

Is it any wonder that girls are growing up with major body image issues? If you’re exposing your daughters to being judged from the age of eighteen months, what will happen to them when they’re eighteen? How will they see themselves? Is it fair to do that to them?

I did a little more reading about the show, the contestants and their parents.  I have to say I was quite shocked by some of what I read.

Some of the things that these kids have to endure: spray tanning, hours of hair and make-up application, eyebrow plucking, eyelash tinting and curling, fake teeth and fake nail applications.  And they’re not usually happy about it.

Then I read about one mum who dressed up her toddler as Dolly Parton. Complete with fake boobs and backside.

Another child has a special ‘Go-Go Juice’. It’s part Mountain Dew and part Red Bull.  According to the girl’s mother, ‘everybody on the circuit does it’.  Well that’s ok then, isn’t it?

One mum made her four-year-old smoke a fake cigarette on stage and another dressed her daughter up like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. You know, like a hooker.

There’s also the mum who waxed her five-year-old’s eyebrows. That’s bloody painful for me as an adult. How would a child cope with pain like that .

I wish people would let their children just be children. Aren’t they growing up too fast as it is?

 

Pain

LagosMum6 Comments

I’m in pain.  And I’ve been in pain since my fourteenth week.

I have pain in my pubic area, the tops of my thighs, the base of my back and my backside.

Getting in and out of bed almost kills me.  Turning over while in bed is worse.  Getting in and out of the car is manageable, but it hurts.  Basically – I have to try and avoid any activity where I have to put more pressure on one leg than another.  Like getting dressed (I have to sit down to do this).  Or going up and down the stairs fifty times a day.

After doing some research online, I gathered that what I have is SPD.  I’d never heard about it before, but vaguely remembered a friend saying she had it during her first pregnancy and has it again now, in her second pregnancy.

I had an appointment with my ob/gyn at sixteen weeks.  He asked how I was doing.  I told him about my aches and pains.

Now he’s not the kind of man who will hold your hand and tell you everything’s going to be ok.  He’s not the most ‘personable’ guy – but I knew this about him.

But when he looked at me and said, ‘Well, it’s your second pregnancy, so it’s to be expected.  Although sixteen weeks is a bit early to have this kind of pain.  You’ll have to just deal with it.’, I was a little disappointed.

No adivce?  No dos and don’ts?  Just deal with it?  No examination or anything?

Now I’m at nineteen weeks.  And the pain is ok – bearable on some days.  But on others, it’s worse.  And I think it will continue to get worse as the baby grows.  I’m hobbling around a lot already!

Should I go to my GP?  Or am I meant to just grin and bear it?