Mrs.O's writing room.

The morning drive to school is interjected with intense quiz sessions, taking a cab is starting to look like an alternative. Mich has some serious abstract questions to ask, I never know what is coming at me. Monday Mich – "If you fall from a cloud what happens?" Me – "You die" Tuesday Mich– "How fast do you fall?" In my mind – How fast do you fall? What kind of question is that? You just fall. His Dad – "9.8 meters per second", then he goes on to talk about gravity and all that;- Physics lesson right there . Wednesday Mich – "Can a cricket swim?" In my mind – But of course, don’t we hear them most in the rainy season? His Dad – "No! Crickets can’t swim, they would die,they breathe through their abdomens ...". Science lesson - Check. Thursday Mich– " When you’re making a brick, how do you prevent it from sticking to the ground?" In my mind – Hmmm… but what makes you think it would stick to the gr

What am I doing in this mans bed? Who is this kid calling me mummy? And why is this baby suckling at my breast? -  Exposing this sacred part of my body? I want to go dancing. I want to write a new chapter in the novel of my life. I want to twirl in the free open meadows. I want to listen to the sweet tweeting of the birds and the crunching sound of leaves under my feet. I want to date again, to spend time with friends after 8pm and not feel it’s late. I want to have a snack for dinner and not have to cook a meal. I want to think about me alone. A friend invited us to a housewarming; on the card the party would run from 4pm – 7pm. I thought 7pm was late - it’s Amani’s bedtime. Sam had a good laugh, he said, “When you think 7pm is late for a party, then you know you are truly growing old”. Tut tut! I’m in trouble. There were days when 7 pm was time to bath and get ready for the paaare - which only begun to sizzle at 11pm. We organized parties, danced and laughed till the wee hours

A fat hamster, having lived a lazy life is placed on a tread mill by a 6 year old boy. The boy is so excited to have a hamster for a pet, he turns the wheel double fast to see how fast its little legs can peddle. The hamster runs, faster and faster – it loses breath. Its feet can’t move as fast as its mind dictates. It topples over, gets dragged, ends up with its feet in the air, still peddling as though it was on the tread mill and its eyes wide open in bewilderment. I feel like that hamster. After 3 months of sitting at home, 2 and a half of which I spent sleeping and eating and feeding Amani, I'm thrown back into this fast paced work world and I’m struggling to catch up to speed. Half my mind is at home with my little bundle. As I focus on the pile of work on my desk, my expanding chest is a constant reminder that right about now, I would have been serving my munchkin her breakfast/break/ lunch or snack. In theory I should;- -Feed her before I leave in the morning – 6:15am