My miracle

It's been a long journey up till this point and a longer one yet a head.
Some of you may have heard about my little miracles Nziiza and Kwizera God decided they would be safer in heaven so He took them back.
But on July 22, 2010 at 11:05 am, He gave Sam and I another miracle to keep for a little while.

I take this moment and many others to thank God for being real good to me. He has answered countless prayers and seen me through some dark dark valleys.

I look at this miracle and my heart dances wildly.
Like Mary said in Luke 1:46 -

"My soul glorifies the Lord
and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
for he has been mindful
of the humble state of his servant.
From now on all generations will call me blessed,
for the Mighty One has done great things for me—
holy is his name".

My boys came too soon, at 24 and 20 weeks respectively. I was later diagnosed with a weak cervix. When they got heavy, my cervix would just give way and there was no way to save them. To get the full story look out  for the November edition of African Woman under Real Life Stories.
End of kalango.

Anyway, I went to hospital thinking I was carrying a boy because some eager radiologist let her mouth run without request. Sam and I were not keen on the sex, we were thankful already, a healthy baby was all we wanted.
When the baby was handed to me, I was freakin' electrified.
"What?! it's a girl? It's a girl!" "Oh my goodness, it's a girl!"
The doctors had a good laugh.
I mean, who does that these days? Who goes into the labor ward not knowing what to expect? (I know, it's either one or the other -thank God) but I was supposed to have checked and double checked.

"Oh the joy that continues to flood my soul.
Something happened and now I know, He touched me and made me whole"

Amani Keeza Ongwen is now 4 months old. She is a strong and beautiful girl - just like her name suggests.

Her favorite person in the whole world is her big brother Mich. Nobody makes her light up and kick like she has a bee in her bonnet - the sound of his high pitched voice and his perky personality set her on fire.

Her favorite cartoon characters are Elmo (Sesame street) and Bob the Tomato (Vegetales), these two make her smile, but not as much as Mich does.

She loves stories with lots of pictures - big colorful pictures.

So, what are you asking the Lord for? Is it taking long? Is the pain more than you can bare and the yearning unfathomable?
Don't despare, God will meet you. Make sure not to leave the place of appointment (prayer closet) and don't forget to say thank you - remember the story of the ten lepers.

It hurts.

Have you ever made a decision that you nearly regret?
At first it seems the obvious thing to do but things go wrong and regret sets in. Why is it simply done by others and when my turn rolls around I face obstacles?
I know it’s not nuclear physics, it's life, but right now, it hurts.

I had Amani’s ears pierced on Saturday. I was told this was the perfect age, she would heal a lot quicker - I thought yeah! This is the thing to do.
I gained the courage to pierce mine at about 22 years of age and I didn't wish I had done it sooner but I thought she would thank me for this.
Took her to the salon and within a few short minutes we were done. Only problem was the guy who did the job didn’t mark the spot so the ear holes were not anyway near identical. One was much further up than the other.

Now, I stand at cross roads;
Should I let it pass? - this would be her special mark. She would be different:-)(I’m not sure I would be in her good books though).
Should I go back immediately and have her pricked again?
Should I allow time for this one to heal then do it again?
My insides are boiling. Why should my little girl suffer because some guy did a crappy job? But again, I exposed her, so he is not entirely to blame.

Trouble in the hood

Sam and I were enjoying a lazy Saturday afternoon; Sam was working on the computer and I was keeping Amani entertained when Mich walked in sparkle eyed. He seemed to have a brilliant idea. He said “I’m going on an adventure!”

“Nice Mich, and where are you going?”

“I’m going to the market”

He sat down and drew a map. 

Sam and I were half attentive - Mich is always talking about things that he makes up in his head.

He went to his room and came back with a rack sack.

“Mummy what do you pack when you’re going on a long journey?”

“It depends on where you are going and for how long” I replied

“Not very long, just for one day”, he said

Sam and I run through a list – a rope, a torch, an umbrella, snacks…

“And where would you be going?”

“Out of the gate”

Sam said, “Uh, I don’t think that would be a good idea”

He went on working at the computer and I playing with Amani.

After about 45 minutes, I noticed the house was awfully quiet. I walked out to see what Mich was up to and noticed the gate was open. Since Stella was outside, I asked her if she had seen him, she thought he was in the house.

PANIC!!!

Then I prayed intensely.

I walked out the gate and there was no sign of him. What were the clues?  Market, long journey, adventure. Since we have a market at either end of our road, Sam searched at one end and Stella at the other.

She found him on his way back, talking happily about what he saw.

That gave me the fright of my life, especially with all the kidnappings going on.

Now that we have a slight idea what kind of 6 year old we are dealing with, Sam and I need to listen more attentively, take clues and act on them immediately.

Meanwhile Amani made 3 months a week ago; she is eating and sleeping well. She wears clothes for a 6 to 9 month old. Weighs a good 7.2 kilograms and her smiles are for world; they literally make her father melt like an ice cream in the Dallas summer heat.

She has been drool central. Yesterday I was about to feed her when she gave me a knock out smile, the sun shone on her gums and they sparkled, well at least I thought they did. She seemed a little unsettled when my sister asked if she was teething. I brushed it off – “No, she is only 3 months old”. But then I flashed back to what I thought were sparkling gums in the sun and quickly checked again. There, on her lower gums where two white teeth, shyly peeping out of her gums. Yup! She is teething alright; I hope she doesn’t get any ideas of using me as … I won’t even go there.

My Einstein

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 ground?
His Dad – "You could use straw, or grass"
Mich – "I’m making a ball out of mud but every day I come back from school I find it stuck to the ground".

The way I see it, I need Sam by my side all the time. Physics wasn’t my favorite subject, so really … I hope he asks all his questions while his daddy is nearby otherwise I will be in serious trouble. Don’t want to be getting butterflies in my tummy each time I hear “mummy?!”

The alternative is to answer the questions a day late, that way I have time to surf the internet for answers.
In the mean time I thank God for an intelligent husband :-)

Did I marry too soon?

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 of the morning, then crammed ourselves in the girls rooms of a friend’s house (at 4am). I want to do that again.

Now I’m thinking about home work, P.1 school projects, shopping lists, diapers and occasional intimacy.

I enjoyed being single. I skipped at the opportunity to have a drink. Young men told me they loved me, they wrote poems, they tripped over themselves and I basked in their praises. I didn’t look, they came searching. I miss that attention.

I would like to travel and not worry about the husband and kids. Sometimes the task of raising human beings is daunting, the thought that little Amani depends entirely on me is overwhelming.

Why is it okay to go into town with a head scarf on? Frumpy clothes suit me just fine and now I fancy my mother’s flat shoes.

It’s unsettling to meet friends now married with 4 – 5 children. The lean mean guys are now pot bellied; the ladies are chubby all over. For some men the hair has taken flight, never to be seen again, for others the hair reminds me of snow white - white being the common denominator. The perky personalities have been replaced with frowns – life is too serious.

Maybe it’s not marriage, maybe I’m just growing older. Is this midlife crisis?