Clothes

If you’ve read early posts on this blog, you’ll know that I bought most of Vinay’s clothes (to 9 months) before he was born.  There is a good reason for this – it has to do with being in London over the summer, being due in September and living in Lagos.

I didn’t realise quite how many gifts he would receive.  And I also didn’t realise that he would spend most of his time wearing a vest or pyjamas.  

My mum regularly sends him t-shirts or shorts or trousers.  He still receives clothing as gifts and I still keep buying him more!

Each time we travel I buy a whole bunch of t-shirts and shorts, but I buy them in a bigger size.  You know…  Just in case.

But then I lose track of what I’ve bought and what I still need to get.

He has three pairs of pyjamas in 3-4 years.  

And he still has two or three packs of vests in 18-24 months that are unopened.

Last year when I went to London I went a little overboard.  *embarrassed face* 

I bought him SO many clothes.  I think I was feeling a bit guilty for leaving him for a week…

He has worn/is wearing some of the clothes I got him.  And some were too big.

I was thinking about him starting nursery soon and that he would need all those clothes.  

Anyway, so yesterday I was going through all his clothes that are too small and/or not in good condition and putting them aside.  Then I opened the new cupboard (he LOVES this cupboard) and took out all his new stuff and started going through what will fit him now.

I think I took out at least fifteen or twenty t-shirts for him to start wearing when he goes back to school.  

HOW did I buy him SO many?!  And how did I not notice???  Maybe I shop for him because it’s more fun than shopping for myself (since nothing fits)?

They were all 2-3 years.

He was absolutely thrilled.  He is his mother’s son, after all.

I kept the clothes that were still too big aside (to put back in the cupboard) and V asked me why I was putting them there.  I explained that they didn’t fit him as they were too big.

V: Yes.  This t-shirts still big.  Mama, when the clothes get smaller I wear them?

Me: No, baby.  When you get bigger you can wear them!

Never a dull moment with him around!

 

 

Cutting The Line

This afternoon I took Vinay to go get some groceries.

After experiencing Park N’ Shop on a Saturday a few weeks ago, I decided I would try and avoid ALL grocery stores over the weekend as much as possible.

Alas, that was not possible today.  I can’t even blame it on anyone.  It’s only because of my own disorganisation.

Anyway, I whipped round the store as quickly as possible with Vinay sitting in the filthy trolley.  There was no other choice – he either sat in the trolley or got run over by other trolleys.  The place is tiny and cramped – two trolleys can’t fit side by side in the aisles.  Two people can barely fit.

So I got to the till and stood behind (but not directly behind as the tills are L-shaped) the person paying.  Another (Indian) lady turned up with her basket, stood in front of me and started unloading her stuff!

I just looked at her.  I couldn’t believe it.

I said to Vinay (loudly), ‘Oh, I’m sure we were next in line.’  With a tiny hint of sarcasm, of course.

She looked at me, smiled and said, ‘I only have a couple of things, do you mind?’

I replied, ‘Well, since you’re already standing there there’s not really much I can do.’

She huffed and turned her attention back to her basket.

At that moment, one of the guys that work there took me over to another till, I paid and was out before she had finished.  Hah!

So – should I have just stayed quiet?  

She was older than me, but by no means elderly.  She is what I would classify as an ‘aunty’ – anyone your parents age is called ‘aunty’ and ‘uncle’.  But I didn’t know her.  Should I have been more respectful?

If I had known her, would I have said anything?  Probably not.  Most of you would think that if she knew me she wouldn’t cut in front of me.  But – I’ve experienced ‘aunties’ just standing in front of you in the line to pay.  Why?  Because they can.  And they know you can’t do or say a damn thing about it.  They’re friends of your parents or your in-laws.  They talk and spread gossip and they KNOW you can’t do anything!

What would you have done?

The Mothership

About two weeks ago, I wrote about how irritating it is to go shopping with my husband.  The way he shops drives me crazy! 

Well, today, I have been driven a different kind of crazy.  I went shopping with my mother.  I know, I know – the general consensus on Twitter was ‘Do NOT go shopping with your mother.  Ever.’  

Here are snippets of our conversations.

Mum: Arun (short for Aruni (which was my name before marriage)), look at this.  This is nice.

Me: No – I don’t like it.  It’s too shiny.

Mum: Actually, no.  It will make you look fat.  Sorry, fattER.  

Me: Err.  Thanks.

~

Me: Oh – this is nice, look.

Mum: Oh yes, it does look nice.  (She has only seen the back of it so far.)

(I turn dress around.)

Mum: Oh no.  All your dresses are the same style and they’re very unflattering!

(Please note that she was referring to ONE (cotton/wool blend) drawstring dress that lost it’s shape after the first wash (but I still continue to wear it).)

~

Mum: Look at this top – it’s very much your ‘style’.

Me: Is it? (Really not sure)

Mum: But don’t get it.  I remember you had something similar in Bombay.

Me: But I don’t like it anyway.

Mum: Good.  I don’t think you should get it.

(You see where this is going?)

Now, you must understand that my feelings weren’t hurt…  I’m actually glad that she was with me.  As irritating as she sounds (and can sometimes be), at least she’s honest and makes sure I buy things that look good.  I know I’ve put on weight over the last few months (and I’m going to embark on Operation Fit and Fabulous (this will involve wearing my HotPants, listening to Thinking Slimmer and geting on with MutuSystem) when I get back to Lagos (on Monday)).

So HOPEFULLY by Easter (or at least by the time BritMums Live rolls round), I’ll be looking my best 😉

 

Shopping

I don’t know about any of you…  But I love shopping.  Well, I used to.  You know, back in the days when clothes fit me properly.  Now I like to shop for shoes and handbags (the only things that will always look good).

I’m well aware that some people hate it.  My sister, is one of those people.  She *hates* it.  She would rather stick pins in her eyes than go shopping.

Women always complain about shopping with the men in their lives.  And men *always* complain about being dragged round the shops when all they want to do is stay at home and play video games or watch football.

I’m lucky.  My husband enjoys shopping!  He actually likes walking around looking for clothes to buy.

BUT he’s the most irritating person to shop with.  You see, with me…  I see, I like, I try (most of the time) and I buy.  That’s it.  There’s no confusion about anything.  

He is another story.

For example, he might decide that he needs a brown belt.  He’ll go into one store and look at the belts.  Then he’ll go into the next store and look at more belts.  On the way to the belts, he’ll pass the sweaters and think about getting one.  Even though a) it’s summer (or hot wherever we are) b) we live in a tropical country c) we’re not planning to go anywhere cold for the rest of the year.  He’ll then go into a few more shops looking at belts.  He will also stop and look at brown shoes.  I don’t know what it is about brown shoes – but he’s got millions of them!

After going from store to store.  He’ll call me (if I’m not with him) and tell me he wants to show me something.  He’ll then take me to *all* the stores he’s just been to, so I can help him decide which belt to buy, explain that he doesn’t need a sweater and that he has brown shoes just like the pair he’s just shown me.

If he’s buying jeans or trousers, he does the same thing.  Except he WAITS for me to get there before trying anything on, which is a complete waste of my time!

Usually when we go shopping together, we part ways after about ten minutes and agree to meet again at a certain time and place.  He has, once or twice, called me ten minutes after I’d left him to ‘please come and see something’.

I just can’t understand it.  He has good taste (when shopping for himself).  I love the way he dresses.  And he was quite capable of shopping by himself when we got married!