Fashion Mommys

This morning I came across a tweet. And to quote: “What’s with young moms making their boys look like future heartbreakers? Can a kid be a kid bakithi” (Gosh young moms never win right?) I was a little startled because I was under the impression that every parent had the right to dress their child the best way they knew and wanted. Ok, maybe I was also taken aback because I AM that parent. And I reckon it’s unfair for us to be called out on personal choices. One thing I have learnt since becoming a parent is to try and never be critical of the choices other parents make for their children. The offence is magnified when the offender is not even a parent (but I think this person is a parent). The shock!!

Since my son was a born, I made it my sole mission to dress him well. I didn’t care how much an item would cost me. If I saw it and I had a vision of him wearing it, it was in the cart. The reason is I want him to look immaculate and polished at all times. I want to create an image for him that he will grow up with. I am the South African version of Kris Jenner. I am that parent who has a game plan for their child’s life. From how he looks, who he associates with, his social calendar, everything. One day when I trust him enough to make his own decisions I might sit back and watch but by then I would have sown the seed for him to look at the world through different eyes.

Let’s be honest, how many times have u seen a bland dressed child who was not necessarily well groomed and just swoon? *sound of the buzzer*. That child is like every other child. But when u see an immaculately dressed child, who exuded self-confidence and smiles like he/she owns the world, you want to play with that child, chat to him, hell, even ignore the parents and just chill with this “dude” or “chick”. That’s how the world works unfortunately, people judge you by how you look. First appearances are everything. I want my child to know that amongst other important things. The world likes people who are confident and well.. Beautiful.
I see the way he carries himself, you can’t tell him nothing! He knows he is cute. He knows he makes a good impression but he is also a child. He wants to play and high five and shows you his Spiderman collection or Ben 10 figurines. He is just a boy whose mother happens to dress him well. And he very much still gets to be a kid. He does play. At school, at kiddies parties, at home and whenever he feels like it. But playing doesn’t mean he has to be dirty or filled with grime. Maybe it’s also his personality, because he has never been that child who gets super dirty – so dressing him up has always been fun and worth it. He enjoys it and as he is growing older he is starting to pick out his own clothes (and we do have days where all he wants to wear is his Spiderman jumpsuit..). His clothes don’t count up any additional years to his little four years. And I guarantee I’m not robbing him of his childhood. He is still a child.

I don’t want him to be an ordinary child (or even adult). He is special to me and to the world. And if he knows that, he will never at any stage take his life and his opportunities for granted. I hope he will always carry himself with grace, poise and like a true gentleman. I don’t judge people on what they chose to wear but we live in times where men (and women equally) don’t care. They just arrive at funerals in jeans, spend all day in sweat pants, go to restaurants in shorts ect. I want Maqhawe to know, at a wedding/funeral you suit up! You wear the hell outta that suit like you will raise the dead! None of that jeans nonsense, totally disrespectful!

And ladies, anytime a well-dressed man who smells good steps up to you, he already has 40 points out of 100. Immediately you take that person seriously, he has your attention (until he opens his mouth and maybe he is the ultimate douche but…). How you look matters!! We live in an image driven world. And as a mother I am raising a future adult, a leader, a CEO, a GQ editor, maybe even future president. How bad would it be to dress him up now? There are so many things worse than wanting your child to look good. And in hindsight this is why we have cultures like “izikhothane”. These young men associate style with mismatched shoes and pants that would light up carousel #JesusFixIt .. I don’t necessarily blame their parents but if they knew better, they would definitely dress better.

And lastly I personally don’t spend all that money just for my child to look good on Instagram. That’s a fictional world, where people lean on sports cars just for show; put a random fancy location to their pic and all sorts of crazy efforts to get as many likes as possible. What I’m doing here is bigger than that. Yes it always nice to post up pictures and show the world your pride and joy (whether it’s your car, you pet dog, you beautiful home or your well-dressed offspring). There is nothing wrong with it. If you can afford to dress your child and believe in it, go ‘head.. And if you can’t, sit down and watch others do it.

PS: my favorite link of all times!!! http://nymag.com/thecut/2013/06/five-year-old-boy-whos-become-a-style-icon.html

Asian Invasion

A week ago I returned from thee most invigorating and fun 10 day trip in Thailand. I had travelled to Phuket, Krabi and Bangkok (which I haaaaaated). The days went by so quickly, I’m certain someone was fast forwarding the clock. I cannot even begin to describe in words the amazing time that was had. I was travelling with my Aunt (my dad’s second sister) and a high school friend of mine, Buyi. Ultimately we were all stressed and just need to rejuvenate. I couldn’t have asked for better travel companions as we all bought different attributes into making the trip a success.

My aunt is 40-something and I think secretly she is the older version of me. We have so much in common but she gets on my last nerve. At home we are referred to as friends (by the other jealous aunts)..We have the same disposition and generally she has my back. But boy did she annoy me during the trip. I was five to losing my mind. Firstly this woman had packed EVERYTHING you can think of, so when we got to the airport we had to empty her suitcase and ask our lift to take some of the clothes back home. I’m not kidding when I say she had packed sandwiches and Big Korn Bite chips…Why? I had told her a dozen times we don’t need to pack food because the airline supplies.. (since we will be flying 11 hours). As I thought the worst was over, she whipped out a pack of condoms and asked me if I bought any. I really had no option but to burst laughing. She said we never know what may happen along the way –what if we get raped. Basically if we do find ourselves being molested by an Asian man with a tiny wiener, her plan is to politely ask him to wrap it up. I told her no such would happen but she insisted on having them close by. After that she kept beeping at every security gate we passed because of her “diamond” encrusted-Lil Mama tracksuit she was wearing. It felt like a long, long walk to freedom. She did however come handy, because she had every pill you can think off. She was like a walking dispensary. She had sleeping pills for when our sleeping patterns were thrown off due to the time difference, pain and muscle pills after Buyi and I were feeling tender from all the swimming and diving, nausea pills for the hysterical boat ride we took, she helped nurse my sore on my ass crack (don’t ask how it got there) and when I developed a suspicious looking pimple inside my nose, she happily peeped up my nostril to check it out.. Generally she was our personal pharmacist /nurse.

Although shopping with her was a complete BUST! I’m a very decisive shopper so I really hate shopping with people who can never seem to make up their minds. My aunt is like that… She is stingy so she has to be 1000% sure if she wants something. This drove me crazy because I didnt’t have time to ponder if she wanted to buy a 200Baht sarong (which by the way is about R66)…Thank goodness for Buyi because she has the patience of a saint. She entertained her, negotiated prices with her and helped her shop.

Buyi on the other hand was such a trooper. She made sure we woke up promptly, she bought sunscreen (which my aunt and I hadn’t packed), she made double copies of all our documents in case I had forgotten something, she carried this backpack that could store anything when all I had was a little sling bag and when we couldn’t find decent booze at the hotel, she coerced me into drinking Gordon’s Gin (no comment- it got the job done). She cheered me to dive from the speedboat into the ocean (which was UNBELIEVABLE) and she told us not to talk to strangers (and we did get approached by some shoddy Nigerian characters at one of the malls in Bangkok). After diving and spending hours out in the sun, we were so sunburnt and raw it was sad. I kept calling her my little Lupita..She was bad for me in that, all we did was eat. We got hungry at the same time and we would just pig out. As I write this we are both on an intense no carb, high protein diet.

So many and wonderful memories were created on this trip. I would genuinely advise my friends to travel more and to definitely do Phuket. The locals are friendly and there are so many fun activities to partake in and many places to explore. I enjoyed being able to walk the street without fear of being robbed as there is almost zero crime there. The food interestingly enough was beyond edible. My only let down was how the concept of breakfast and lunch is just not respected! Rice and noodles for breakfast? I spent most of days skipping breakfast. Lunch was always different. The seafood equally fresh (we dined on prawns, crab, lobster, mussel. Seafood royalty).The cocktails were like little fairies gliding down your throat. I couldn’t have enough. We went to these magnificent islands (Phi-Phi, Bamboo) and we swam with the fishes and scuba dived till we touched the coral… We rode elephants into the jungle, which was insanely scary. It was spectacular how these massive animals were so tame (under the right conditions obviously). The baby elephants danced and sang for us and also did tricks with hoola hoops. We also did an educational tour on how rubber is made, which opened my eyes to the plight of these people in 3rd world countries who work so hard for things we take for granted. I had not even once considered how rubber was made nor did I care. It was interesting none the less.

The entire trip was such a great blessing and it ignited my adventure spirit and I definitely will be travelling more. I did however miss my son terribly, and well travelling makes you realize how much you love your own country. Despite the eTolls, Nkandla, Oscar saga, the daily heartbreaking stories we read about every day, we generally have an awesome country. I wouldn’t trade it for anything. When we touched down at OR and existed the plane, even the air felt different, in a good way.

PS: Although SA has a thing or two to learn about that free wi-fi they have everywhere in Asia. THEN we would be 100% awesome!

 

 

Dirty dog diaries

Dirty dogg diaries

O my gooooooooodness *Shenene’s voice*… My friend just busted her new boo thang! … She finally decided to snoop around his IG (Instagram), Facebook and Twitter account… Turns out this mu’fawker is still smashing his bebe mama’s cakes to smithereens! We are so distraught. Well not entirely because she hadn’t given up the cookie monster #ThankYouStevHarvey #3MonthRule. But yeah, seems little man has been busy with the double life!

She has been seeing this guy for like 4 months. Everything has been cool thus far right? Until yesterday she jumped into this Tony Gaskin link she sent me:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1eV1t3Ux1cw

I think she may have spent the rest of the afternoon engrossed in all these Tony episodes/video clips on YouTube because next thing baby girl is Sherlock Holmes. Clearly Tony reached deep down in her feminine gut. I must say I’m pretty peeved off and disappointed that it had to take some brown eye-d self-help, life coach brother to trigger her snooping prowess. This is some shit I could have told her. She then decides to go through his social media. FOUR MONTHS LATER!!! My girl was just asking for trouble in the first place.

 Ladies listen up! When you meet a guy, after you say “hi” and give him your number (because clearly this is a sign of interest), get on that damn World Wide Web and GOOGLE his damn behind!! That’s what it’s there for…  I’m talking Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook; check his Whatapp profile picture and status, Linkden…. Why on earth would you just take what he says at face value? Brothers are tricking us every blessed day of the week! Ya’ll are plain thirsty and too trusting! That’s what’s wrong… And if he is on neither, run! Run like Forrest Gump on steroids. Clearly he can’t be trusted and has something to hide or he is a psychotic hermit with a dull life because that would explain why he is not even on one social media. Run sweetie.

Anyways my friend’s boyfriend said to her, the baby isn’t his and him and this bird were on and off for the longest time but they have been broken up for a while now… (Ding, ding… LIAR! IG pics of them both from Dec vacation. SMH)….She is now a nervous wreck because today they are meeting to have “the talk”. And it doesn’t help that this chicken head looks like my friend…….. O_o

Honestly truth of the matter is don’t let the thirst fool you. In order to have peace in your heart and balance in your soul, STALK-A-NIGGA. That’s right. I’m about that life & more. I’m that woman that snoops EVERYWHERE. My snooping skills are on a hundred. Anybody who comes in my life quickly realizes this. Because I will pry in your phone, your social networks, you bank accounts, your momma’s bank account, what kinda breed you family pet is, your blood type… ALLES! I don’t like things to miss me and sure don’t like nasty surprises, like illegimate kids mushrooming out of nowhere. Nuuuuu-uuuuh… Not me ma’am. If it’s out there I will find it and bring it home.

I’m now patiently waiting to hear feedback from this talk, and hear how he will worm his way outta this one. … Like my man Jay said “It’s a hard knock life!!”

Okay here is the thing- I don’t like going to church. Please don’t judge me. But I really don’t like going to church. And I know right now I probably sound like an unsacred atheist but I’m not. I do believe in God. I’m actually a staunch Catholic. Ash Wednesday, lent, Holy Communion, Hail Mary chants, confession, all of that, I do it. And I love my religion, but I just don’t think that going to church every Sunday will make me more of a believer than someone who doesn’t. I’ve had friends invite me to their church because I think secretly they feel I don’t have a spiritual life and I need Jesus. Now here is the thing, a lot of my friends attend these praise and worship churches. And truth is I’m not a fan of them. It could be a combination of their OTT methods, the extravagance of everything (I really would like to see my priest face to face than on a 100 inch TV screen), everyone is generally in everyone’s business…It makes me uncomfortable.

The other day a friend invited me to Grace Bible Church. God bless her heart. I only accepted the invite to get her off my back and because I didn’t want her to think that I was a bad person. So during prayer (and mind you people are praying and crying at the same damn time.eeeek!), the priest asks if anyone needs to be prayed for and if so, raise your hand. So I figure okay let me raise my hand, I might as well get the most out of this moment right? THEN! They ask us to come forward. This is the part I HATE! Why? Why must I now shuffle to the front like a kid in assembly? Anyways I go because chickening back is out of the question. Once we are there, the priest prays a little bit, thanks for coming foward and then asks if we mind going to another room with the church ushers. He comforts us by letting us know that this is all procedural and they will tell us more about the church blah blah blah… At this point I’m slightly getting ticked off. I really don’t want to do it. But once again, the whole congregation is staring at us, and I don’t want to seem like the spawn of Satan. So I went much to my reluctance. Everything I was carrying (bag, phone, bible) was still in my seat because I had not foreseen this episode panning out like this. Once we were in the other room these ushers set us up with some individuals who are already stationed to talk to us. Then they start with the questions (why do you want us to pray for you, what’s going on…) and the prying… They start explaining what being born again is. I wanted to expire right there and then. Firstly I didn’t want to be born again; secondly I didn’t even want to be at church!!!!! I wanted to be in bed, in my pajampas (as my son would say) at 11h00, with my coffee, possibly nursing a hangover or reading the newspaper. Not here with this woman I don’t know, wearing a tragic 2 piece suit, tryna sniff in my business!

That situation reminded me again why I stay away from foreign churches but also why I just don’t like going to church on the regular. I have a different way of tapping into my spiritual side. I pray and I talk a lot with God. We have these casual conversations that he and I get. We chat while I’m in the shower, in the loo, driving to work, in a boring meeting, at the ATM when my balance slip is produced ect ect.. He knows my thoughts and knows my heart. He hears my pleas and my cries. I don’t need to be jumping up and down or literally sobbing for him to understand that I acknowledge him and that I need him. Nothing about it is animated. It’s just us.

Church I personally feel (without stepping on any toes) is sometimes a place for people to feel better about whom they are and what they have gotten up to for the last 6 days. I agree that it’s a nice joint to go get your spirit renewed, make your occasional financial contribution, catch up with some of your congregation mates you might have attended Sunday school with, whatever. But I just can’t be found there every Sunday. And no I won’t go to hell because of my attendance (or lack of!)

Stay blessed

N.

Happy New Year

It’s been a while since I last uploaded a post… I could blame it on writers block (do I even qualify as a writer? LOL).. Or pure laziness. I think I took a break whilst preparing for exams last year and never really bounced back. Let me first wish you a Happy New Year. Hope your year is blessed with much success and you accomplish any aspirations and resolutions you have set for yourself. It’s amazing how we start of the year thinking we have plenty of time to fulfill what we set for ourselves, but before we know it, it’s another December and the year has passed by swiftly. So make the best of it.

Gosh, so much has happened since my last post. We lost the father of the nation Tata Madiba. As much as death is inevitable, one can never quite get used to it. This was a major blow to the country and world at large. He was obviously a man larger than life, but he was also a mere mortal. Suppose if we had our way he could have lived forever. Even though he was no longer politically active but his mere existence and presence gave us hope for a better South Africa, which we still continue to strive for. However his sprit will continue to live amongst all of us. May his soul rest in peace.

Both my amazing friends gave birth to these gorgeous angels!.. A boy and a girl, who kinda made me super excited. I got to spend time with them this past December. I had forgotten how tiny babies are before 6 months. I think a part of me was scared to hold them because I have these long clapper claws and I was scared to scratch them. But they are amazingly beautiful babies and when they cried/didn’t want to sleep, they reminded me why I will never again be tricked into having more bebez!

My uncle Mxolisi Nxasana came on board as the new head of NPA…*whoop*.. The family couldn’t be any prouder. Here is to busting crime and corruption. We continue to wish him all the best in his new position.

Beyonce dropped that amazing album of hers in December. Aaaaaaaaaich…. I can’t even be mad at that woman.. Who even does that? Yes I’m a huge B stan (even though Jay Z is my spiritual husband). I am still blasting the album every day, all day.

I passed all my modules, with some distinctions. I’m officially a couple of modules away from my degree. I am actually very surprised considering what a shit year last year was, financially, emotionally and not to mention physically (I randomly gained weight. I swear it’s a conspiracy between the universe and body..aggg). It was unbelievable I made it to the other side alive.

I rounded off the year not too badly. My son officially spent his first week at home (my home in the hood). And this is such a big deal because A) It was the first time he was away from me or his nanny for such a long period, B) He is a complete cheese boy who can’t even play barefoot. So it was refreshing to see him interact with the local hood brats and playing on the street and eating isiqedha (he calls it ice..LOL). It was also comforting to see him fit in and have what I know as a normal carefree childhood. So going forward he might just be spending his school holidays down in Durban.

Anyways here is to a New Year filled with amazing blessings and hopefully more posts from me. So much is happening right now and I have all these thoughts I want to blog about. It’s crazy… I promise to be in touch soon though.

PS: O and Nkandlaville happened. Yawn.

Hugs.

N.

More kids? No thanks!

I’m almost certain people who ask me when I’m having another kid hate me. They are just fearful to say it out loud. Look you can say it. I’ll sooner be okay with that than have another family member or friend, even worse strangers step up to you with “manje ulamanisa nini”. Not only do I find it downright invasive, because ultimately you are asking me everything ranging from my contraceptives to my sex life and even my uterus, but also these are conversations I really expect to have with the father of my kid(s) and my gynecologist. And then there are the sanctimonious stares and gasps I get when I declare that I have no such plans. Yes, I don’t plan on giving my boy a sister or brother. I have zero desire to be pregnant again or to have my vagina stitches up like a bad rag doll. Does that make me a bad mother/person? NO!!  I won’t say never again, but in this moment and time I genuinely foresee my son being an only child.

A lot of people think I’m being mean and unfair on him. “Who will he play with?” “Who will he have a sibling bond with” “Why are you being selfish when you have tons of siblings” they ask. Some even go as far as to ask should something happen to him, how will I feel when I don’t have a child. Obviously these questions are annoying and I find them to be meddlesome but more than anything, people who ask such are obtuse. And I say this in the say breath I would speak of people who assume all women want to get married. Being a mother is beyond amazing. It made me know love in its purest form, and it also showed me my greatest strength. From enduring pregnancy (having to go cold turkey on my wine was no joke and then there was that consistent pain I had on my one bum cheek) to pushing a 3.5kg baby naturally with no epidural (or Disprin or Panado.. or whatever it was I was screaming for in that moment) is a lot of hard work and sacrifice. I’m almost certain I don’t want to do it again.

My father has a lot kids. I grew up in a house where every day a new sibling mushroomed out of nowhere. And then there were the cousins and relatives. I grew up surrounded by a lot of people and I’m the first to acknowledge it was lovely and the house was always cheerful. I was never bored and generally didn’t need to make friends (though I ended up with a woo-tang crew). So I know how wonderful and entertaining that set up is- but I also know the downside of it. Having to share EVERYTHING and having to pass down all your favorite clothes and toys (IF there was any toys to begin with). And having to economize on food (there is a reason why I can’t even stand the sight of polony!!), clothing, school, social life ect. That is the reality of having more than one child. And what is a many to me is more than my pocket can handle and any number that will mean compromising my son’s needs and wants. This is not to imply my parents didn’t give me most of what I needed but I could never have what I wanted because we had to share and money was tight.

I’m aware that once people are married and building their families, they then think they have a license to just over propagate. I think this is senseless depending on your reason for doing it. If you can emotionally and financially support your expanding family- good for you. Unfortunately for us black communities we also have a high number of illegitimate kids, which often means by the time you get married or start a family, you partner is already financially committed to another child or children. Your child’s means are already minimized. It is all those factors that I consider when people talk about having more kids. With the cost of living on the increase, my son’s expenses increase approximately by R3000 every year.  Why on God’s good earth would I want to have another expense in the form of a child? Please don’t get me started on ludicrous school fees and transport, then there is the nanny/helper (her salary also has to go up every year), extra mural activities, social life (I attend approx 15 kiddies party a year and they all require us to bring a gift of +/-R200). We also need to be aware that having kids is more of an emotional adjustment than a financial one. Emotionally I don’t feel ready for another child. All my time is consumed by the one that I have and the balance between my social, proffesional & academic life. Not to mention I’m so inlove with my son, its sickening. I don’t want him having to share his mother’s love and attention with anyone. Yes pyschologically as parents we are designed to love our children equally (thats what the big books say) but in reality there is always the favorite child. 

To tackle the issue of my son being bored, that is an unjustified excuse. In-between crèche, cousins, extra murals and my friend’s children whom we visit, I don’t see how and why he would be bored. He has enough people in his life to interact with. My job is to ensure that he does interact and build relations with other kids outside of his home. My cousin and I didn’t grow up living together but we are thick as thieves. She visited me often and vice versa. Today we are inseparable.

If ever God were to take my son from me, it would be tragic. End of story. No other child would ever replace him or rather having another child will never in a million year make me feel better for my loss. It would be such a tragedy but that how the good Lord intended.

I will be a big girl and also admit that this decision is purely for my own selfishness. The twins aren’t what they use to be after having breastfed my son. The mere thought of them being suckled on again (other than for my own sexual gratification), doesn’t sit well with me. I’m vain and narcissistic. Three years later I’m still adjusting to this new body that came with child bearing. All my war badges (stretch marks, tummy, and soft boobs) I wear them with pride… But one badge at a time.

My son and I have the greatest fun. We do everything together and I still love cuddling him to bed every night. He is my baby. I don’t feel I have spent sufficient time helicoptering him. I also believe he doesn’t needs to share his mommy or his privileges with anyone.

He is my only and we like it like that.

Photo: hehehehe