What not to say to an expecting mother

Her body is consumed with the details of creating a human being. As we celebrate her, we make careless statements without full awareness of their impact.


“You have put on weight!” She knows and is probably not feeling too thrilled about it. A compliment on how good she looks is welcome but only if you mean it, otherwise just smile and wave.

“You are still pregnant?!” If she wasn’t it would be obvious. She is exhausted, 9 months is a long time you know?! She can’t do much about it and she doesn’t need the added pressure, so be gracious and encourage her along.

“Are you sure you are not having twins?” Simply because she has a specially extended tummy doesn’t mean there are several babies in there, babies sit differently in utero but if indeed she was having twins, whatabout??

“You look like you are about to pop!” You can’t get more unkind. She might be a close friend who lets your jokes fly over but let’s not push it.

Don’t touch her tummy without permission. Pregnant women can be extremely irritable and sensitive and would appreciate the personal space.

So, tread softly.

When it’s all done, do not …

Focus on her flaws. Concentrate on the baby, direct your concern to whether she is healing well.

Tips on how to raise her child are welcome if she asks.

Rat lovers

At 7, boys are curious, discovering the world and the creatures around them.
Mich wants a pet, a creature he can own and look after, it's in his dreams and prayers, Santa Claus is going to have pressure.
Some of the book titles he’s borrowed from the school library include;- “Guinea Pigs”, “Training older dogs”, “Brave Dogs, Gentle Dogs” …
I don't know how to handle this.

His Dad is not a "pet fan", I am, but it depends on what kind of pet. It's not particularly comfortable having frogs and grasshoppers stare at us through plastic bottles placed on the dinning table and I have politely asked Mich to keep them somewhere else. This time I was handed a book on pet rats.

Here are a few excerpts from the book;

Choosing the right rat; These creatures come in more than 20 color variations; black, white, brown, grey, caramel … A healthy rat doesn’t sneeze, wheeze or have diarrhea. Okay!

Making a rat habitat; An aquarium works best. Buy aspen chips and hay to line the bottom of the aquarium, don’t forget rat food pellets, food dishes and a water bottle with a tube – apparently rats get pretty thirsty.

Working on your relationship; When rats are angry or afraid they bite, so play with the rat, make it comfortable and safe.

Cleaning up; Rats are neat freaks, so make sure to clean their little house, that involves removing droppings and stuff.

Exercise; Rats love to run around and are particularly interested in racing, especially towards food.
Tips on how to build a race track, a good rat diet and so on.

At this point I’m thinking, if I read any further I will catapolt into a feat.

Mich nearly mailed this book to grandma because she needs to read up on how to care for rats. She killed a rat the last time he visited her. He was traumatized and reduced to tears at how inrat (my version of inhumane) she was.

Wait a second - Ratatouille, Despereaux, Jerry, Stewart, these are all rats of some kind.

Come to think of it, “Rat race” is not a new phrase either.

Oh my goonness!! There are plenty of rat lovers out there.

What low maintainance, cute pet can get for my boy?

We are NOT getting a rat.

The National Book Festival

Last weekend I attended an amazing event organized by the Library of Congress - The National Book Festival. I was thrilled to be there on two accounts; I love reading and an amazing woman/writer/author/poet/Pulitzer prize winner was going to be there – Tony Morrison. I wanted to listen to her and later have her autograph a copy of her book for me.
The Metro (DC train) is incredibly jammed over the weekends, the connotation of being packed like sardines was quite appropriate. I imagined everyone was heading to the book festival and in fact many were, but many were also visiting museums and historical sites. DC has many attractions and being the Nation’s capital, it seems to draw the world.

I dashed towards the National mall only to find the crowds were already comfortable – as though they had spent the night or something. I was only 5 minutes late for Tony’s talk but her tent was over flowing. I stood at the back; tip toed and cringed my neck to see the lady. She looked just like I thought she would; light skinned with grey locks. She is in her 70’s and still looking great, sounding strong and very informed. Her interviewer kept up to a good pace, asking where she grew up, which schools she attended and why, and how did you end up doing what you do? - the kind of questions anyone would love to ask. The audience was glued to her, almost suffocating as they held on to her every word, they laughed in excitement and listened keenly.

When asked which people had impacted her life the most, she mentioned Angela Davis and Mohammed Ali. Angela who? Ali I knew but Angela Davis? Never heard of her, and just what would Angela and Ali have in common? - Nothing.

Angela Davis is an African American Philosopher and a civil rights activist. Mohamed Ali is the legendary boxer who “floated like a butterfly and stung like a bee”. She was fascinated by his humility and willingness to take instructions from her without questioning.

After the talk, I rushed out to buy her book but everybody was thinking the same thing, by the time I queued, the line was winding for miles like a giant python. The pretty ushers assured us that we would all have our books signed, so we waited patiently. One hour, two hours, the line was moving alright but maybe not fast enough. We kept hope alive, we were going to stand in line no matter what, we were going to meet this amazing woman, she was going to sign our books, shakes our hands and we would never be the same again, perhaps in that handshake we would be transfused with her talent and become the best writers yet. In the third hour it became apparent that some of our wishes wouldn’t be fulfilled, Ms Morison could not sign any more books. The line dispersed. I was disappointed. At least I saw her live, and listened to her speak - I could live with that. I found something to eat and strolled through the other tents. There was so much going on – Family storytelling, contemporary life, children’s authors, poetry and prose, history and biography but as you can imagine only 1 hour to drink it all in. I had to get back home and the bus service is none existent on the weekends, don’t understand why.

As I waited for my ride at the Vienna station, I was approached by a Mormon – never imagined this day would come. He talked about a new prophet called Joseph Smith, who with 12 other disciples wrote the book of Mormons, a somewhat contemporary bible. Why would I need another Prophet and an extra bible? Jesus and the original Bible work just fine for me. It made for an interesting conversation at most. So I’m home, thankful that my mind has been exposed to magical number of authors and genres of writing out there but mostly grateful that I know whom I have believed and I’m persuaded beyond a shadow of doubt.

Have a wonderful week good people.

http://www.mamamich-mjay.blogspot.com/

Luck all the way to IMF and back

The alarm screeched at 5:30am. I scrambled out of bed and dragged myself to the bathroom. I had to be dressed and ready by 6:30am to catch a ride with Patricia to Washington DC. I was going to meet an old friend. Our appointment was scheduled for 11:00 am but such is the price for a free ride.


Since she was running late, Patricia dropped me at the Metro train station and to prove self-sufficient, I said “sure no problem, I’ll find my way from here”. I stepped out of the car and immediately wondered who I was trying to impress, I didn’t recall how the system worked. I adorned the “I know what I’m about” look and walked into the station. The signs got me onto the right footing, when it came to the details, masses of people were walking in every conceivable direction; I couldn’t guess who to follow, so I asked. The lady at inquiries told me to walk to the end of the corridor and turn left. It was 8:30am, my stomach was beginning to tell stories.

In an open area, people were making cups of coffee and picking bites, I couldn’t believe my luck – free breakfast! But no, it turned out that after you picked your goodies, you were expected to pay at the counter. The chances that someone could make a cup of coffee and walk away were very high (but maybe that’s just the sinner in me).

Right opposite this coffee area was a Barnes and Noble store and as usual, books get the better of me. For over 2 hours I was engrossed in scanning through magazines, checking out the latest books, searching for kids literature - I didn’t notice time.

At 10:40am, I couldn’t ignore the next task, I had to find the metro train heading to Farragut West but first I had to buy a ticket. Now, if you know those ticket machines, then you might have inkling on how intimidating they can be. I have seen people stand there like they are watching a cryptic movie, not certain what to do, this day, I was one of them but not for long. As I was just about to start scratching my head, a lady walked up to me and asked if I wanted to buy a ticket. I said yes. She offered hers, saying she was not going to use it and it was valid for 4 more days. She had paid $47 for it and she was happy to sell it to me at $15. I was immediately suspicious, but okumanya I’m a villager, I gave her the benefit of the doubt because she was a muzungu, anti you know fe abbadugavu tuyina history (do I need to repent for that?).

I had only $13 and she was happy to take it. I couldn’t believe my luck, although a part of me was concerned that the card would be rejected. It wasn’t. Actually it was a very good investment because I was able to make several trips on the metro with it. Now because I had to change to the orange metro line, I was a little unsure of myself. As I stepped off the train, a gentleman was helping a guy find his way and as luck would have it, we were headed in the same direction. So I stood at a distance and listened and then walked slowly behind them. When they got onto the next train, I quickly hopped on and gave thanks in my heart.

I got to the IMF headquarters at 11am. As I walked through, I thought about Dominic Strauss Kahn and how he probably walked through these very doors. Wow, sophisticated and guarded from every imaginable angle! While waiting, I received a phone call. The lady asked if it was a good time to talk and I was tempted to say “Sorry, not right now. I’m at the IMF headquarters waiting to see some very important people” but my cordial spirit took over and I said “Sure, now is as good a time as any!”

I’m glad I did, it was a hiring firm inviting me for an interview - that will be conversation for another day.

Julius, it was fun catching up on the past, present and future.

Metaphorically speaking

3 years ago God gave me a song, but not the stage to sing it on.
It said “You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains” - I was slipping further into the valley.
It said “You raise me up to walk on stormy seas” - I was drowning.
It said “You raise me up to more than I can be” that’s when I asked, “But God, what do you mean?”

Silence!
I figured I had misheard Him. I tucked the song away but each time I heard it play, it drew me to a familiar place. He was God anyway and I had no business creating a stage or selling tickets for my show.

Has God given you specifics but the details of your life are easily comparable to catching a cloud or sand sifting through your grip? Well that’s not new, been there. I have learned that our God is too big to fathom, His ways are way, way, up there and you and me are down below. He knows the end from the beginning and everything in between.

Keep walking, keep praying, keep trusting and you will be amazed at what God is doing. May be not now, actually many times, not now, but in Time, it will be made beautiful. Blessed are those who are patient for they will develop Character and Discipline and Self control. In case you haven’t realized, your life is not about you – tough huh?! Well, that fact becomes more palatable when you get with the program.

Three years down the road, I’m beginning to see how the lyrics of that song are playing out in my life. I stand in awe. I confess too that I had gone off on a tangent, when I first got the song; I imagined how it was all going to play out. I could see the stage, the instrumentalists, the backup team, but oh how off the mark! I look at it now and it’s an orchestra and there is a crowd of witnesses. If and when I take centre stage, I will not need to convince any one listening; they have seen and heard my voice in rehearsal. He makes all things beautiful in His time.

Remain accountable and...

Wait upon the Lord!

Ps. If this message strikes a chord with you, Amen! I just felt compelled to write it. If you have questions I'm happy to answer them too.