It’s Complicated

LagosDad and I have been trying to figure out how to tell V that he’s going to have a younger sibling by the end of the summer.

But we are finding it a bit complicated.

I’ve tried testing the waters a little bit and have had a couple of “big brother” and “baby brother or sister” conversations.  I think we are in trouble.

This is how the last conversation went…

Oh – we were watching Charlie and Lola.

Me: Oh how nice! Isn’t Charlie such a good big brother? He always takes care of Lola. I think you would be a good big brother.

V: No.

Me: You know, many of your friends have little brothers and sisters.  And some of your friends have big brothers or sisters *gives examples*

V (after a slight pause): Where can we get one?

Me: Well, babies grow in their mama’s tummy.  So we would grow the baby in my tummy.

V: No.  No.  I’m the only baby allowed in your tummy!

Oh.  Crap.

My grandmother’s advice was to stop asking him if he’d like a baby brother or sister and to just tell him that he’s getting one!

Sounds like good advice to me.

All I know is we have to do it soon.  As in today.

We’ve got birthday parties for the next FOUR Saturdays – and we need to tell him before he hears it from someone else!

Any advice?


I’m broody.  I’m so broody, it’s not funny.

And every day I’m looking at the most adorable little baby shoes.  Like the ones below.  And it’s not helping.


(Those aren’t even the cutest!)

We are trying.  We have been trying.  For a year.

This time I was sure.  Okay, to be honest, not that sure.  But hopeful.

So hopeful, I dreamt about holding our baby.

I thought about nursery furniture.  And the layout of the room.  I wondered if I would want Vinay and his new sibling to share a room, or if they would sleep in their own rooms.

I tried to remember how many Newborn and Size 1 Pampers I’d ordered in advance when I had Vinay.

I thought I’d ask my sister to buy me Pregnacare while she was in London next week, since it would probably be cheaper.

With each thought and each question, there was a voice in my head telling me to stop being ridiculous.  That this time wasn’t going to be *the* time.

And sure enough, that voice in my head was right.  This isn’t our time.

Not yet.

But what I want to know is, when WILL it be our time?

And how do I deal with all the people that keep asking why we’re not having another baby yet?

Almost every day someone I know is announcing their pregnancy.  While I’m happy for them, and even a little excited, I still feel that stab of jealousy.

I guess until it does happen for us, I just have to forget about it.  I have to stop thinking about it.

And when I do think about it, I have to think positively.

Putting On and Taking Off the Baby Weight

I have always enjoyed good food and have never believed in ‘depriving’ myself of anything. I did exercise (on and off), so was able to keep myself in my regular size 12 clothes.

When I found out I was pregnant, I waited for the morning sickness to start. It didn’t (thank goodness). And I was hungry aaaaaall the time! Or maybe I wasn’t hungry and just ate because I wanted to or because I could. I’m not sure.

When I think about it now, I feel very guilty because my diet at that time wasn’t exactly healthy. I drank a lot of Coke. Sometimes at 6am. I hate the (longlife) milk here- so I was drinking little cartons of chocolate milk (twice a day). I ate chocolate all day long and didn’t do any exercise. I did eat some healthy things of course – but it’s difficult to remember those now. The main thing is: my boy is happy and healthy despite the crap I ate.

My mother constantly told me not to eat for two. I ignored her and, sometimes, even ate for three!

At 7 months I went to London to await the arrival of my gorgeous boy.
OMG- McDonald’s! We don’t have McDonald’s in Lagos. I went craaaaaazy! Cheeseburger, large fries and a Coke. The week before baby was born- I had 2 cheeseburgers (but only 1 portion of fries!)!
And the worst thing is – I used to stop off on my way back from my weekly check-up. I told myself I’d only go once a week (after the Dr) – but I usually ended up there 2 or 3 times a week. And sometimes I had to sneak away from my mum and my hub to get my fix.

Oh! And I forgot about the Coco Pops. I hadn’t eaten those since I was 18. And suddenly I couldn’t stop eating them. Two or three bowls a day (One after the other. Every morning while watching America’s Next Top Model).

And the Bourbon biscuits! I had to steal them from the kitchen and hide them under my pillow to eat in the middle of the night. All because I wanted to avoid the disapproval of the mothership.

Needless to say – I put on a lot of weight. And I put it on everywhere!! My boy is 9 months old (almost) and my wedding ring still doesn’t fit!

After baby was born, I found it difficult to stop eating so much (and I wasn’t breastfeeding (but that’s another story)). Luckily I went right off the Coco Pops. Didn’t go off McDonald’s, though.
And I still want to eat and eat and eat (sometimes).

It was 7 months after V was born that I started exercising again. Pilates twice a week and P90X 3 days a week. And funnily enough-because I’m exercising, I don’t feel like eating *that* much anymore. Unless we go out!

I feel much better about myself and my body. I went from a size 12 to a 16 (sometimes even 18) and now I fit into some size 14 clothes.

I’ve still got a long way to go – but I’ll get there in the end.