Baby it's cold outside

This is just one of the sweetest songs I have ever heard. Enjoy :)

(I really can't stay) But baby it's cold outside
(Got to go away) But baby it's cold outside
(This evening has been) Been hoping you'd drop in
(So very nice) I'll hold your hands they're just like ice
(My mother will start to worry) Beautiful watch you're wearing
(My father will be pacing the floor) Listen to the fireplace roar
(So really I'd better scurry) Beautiful please don't hurry
(Well maybe just half a drink) Put some records on while I pour
(The neighbors might think) Baby it's bad out there
(Say what's in this drink) No cabs to be had out there
(I wish I knew how) Your eyes are like starlight now
(To break this spell) I'll take your hat your hair looks swell
(I ought to say no no) Mind if I move in closer
(At least I'm going to say I tried) What's the sense of hurting my pride
(I really can't stay) Baby don't hold out
(Both) Baby it's cold outside

(I simply must go) Baby it's cold outside
(The answer is no) Baby it's cold outside
(The welcome has been) How lucky that you dropped in
(So nice and warm) Look out the window at the storm
(My sister will be suspicious) Gosh your lips look delicious
(My brother will be there at the door) Waves upon a tropical shore
(My maiden aunt's mind is vicious) Gosh your lips are delicious
(But maybe just a cigarette) Never such a blizzard before
(I got to get home) But baby you'd freeze out there
(Say lend me a comb) It's up to your knees out there
(You've really been grand) I thrill when you touch my hand
(But don't you see) How can you do this to me
(There's bound to be talk tomorrow) Think of my life long sorrow
(At least they'll be plenty implied) If you caught pneumonia and died
(I really can't stay) Get over that old doubt
(Both) Baby it's cold
(Both) Baby it's cold outside

I took my eyes off her for 3 seconds

She was standing at the bedroom door, eating a cracker.  I turned around to put on a shirt.  We were getting ready to go to the company's kids' Christmas party.  I didn't even button up.  All I did was pull the shirt over my arms.  Three seconds.

Some internal alarm went off.  I spun around to see her slip down the first stair.  Then the second.  A scream stuck in my throat as I lunged toward my precious baby, my life, now sliding down down down just beyond my desperate grasp.  The third.  The fourth.  And on.  And on.  And on.   

Oh God.  Oh God.  Oh God.

She tried to stop herself.  Tried to turn.  It put her into a spin.  There were four more stairs to go. 

The scream made its way out as I kept trying to grab her but instead saw her rolling, head spinning, her little arms flailing as she spun and bounced out of control down to the floor.

My heart stopped beating.  The world disappeared.

Her screams pierced my head.  Oh Thank God.  She is crying.  Thank You God.  Thank You God.  Thank You God.

I scooped her up and ran.  I found the couch and opened my eyes to look down at my screaming baby.  My life.

No blood.  Nothing seemed broken.

She grabbed at my breast desperate for comfort.  I clung to her desperate for ... reassurance?  forgiveness?

She's OK.  Nothing more than a slightly swollen lip.  I don't know if I will ever forget what I saw.  The memory is so sharp that it still causes my heart to tighten.  I don't know if I will ever forgive myself.

Funnily enough though, she still loves to climb the stairs.

How come...

... when some people leave a comment I can reply to their email addy, and I can't with others???

WT... Friday

Any idea why I changed this to Wednesday?  Me neither. 

But anyway:

The unopened pack of  ham slices that were supposed to expire TOMORROW were already smelling funky.  WT...?  So much for the visions of club sandwiches that where shaking their bootays in my head.  PBJ... meh.  It silenced the growl at any rate.

They put up the Christmas trees in the mall.  But that was it.  Just Christmas trees.  No lights.  No dangly thingys.  No sparkling stuff.  WT... ??  Welcome to Elbonia.

And that's it!  That's all I got.  It's been a good week I guess :)

So let's hear yours!

Up, down, in, out, all about.

She fell asleep at 4:30pm today on the way home from the mall.  And it seems as I write this at 6:00 pm, like she is down for the night.  Earlier this week she fell asleep at 9:30pm.  Last week saw 5:30pm and 11:00 pm.

Not scheduled much???

She used to be a roughly 7 /8 pm to 7 / 8 am with a couple wake-ups in between.  Now, I have no clue how things will go.  I'm just following her lead.

I'm totally for ''sleep when you are tired and eat when you are hungry''.  It makes perfect sense to me.  But jeez, what's wrong with a lil' semblance of routine?!

So now I have the WHOLE EVENING to myself, and I have no clue what to do with it.  There are dishes and toys to be packed, laundry, general cleaning, my nails, sleep debts to repay.  You know, the exciting stuff.  But... naah...  How bout nothing for a change?

Hubby left this morning to go ride sled dogs for Santa somewhere past the Arctic Circle in Northern Finland.  He said that Rudolf isn't so special... all the reindeer he has seen so far have red noses.  Maybe Rudolf is just a stud like that.  I wonder if he will bring back a Husky?

Later edit:

So much for that early bed time.  She woke up at 7:15.  It is going to be a looooong night.

The baby bit my boob and other fun tales.

AAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWW.

That's how I reacted to the searing feeling of her newly chipped front tooth grating away the skin of my poor, poor, right mammary.

WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. sniff sniff sniff.

That's how she reacted to my reaction.

''Oh no, Mama's sorry pumpkin. It's OK. It's OK. Here you go'' *returns now shredded and bleeding boob to sniffling Angel*.

*Stifle scream of agony as she resumes nursing.*

She didn't mean to. It was an accident. It was most likely my fault. It still hurts like the deepest flaming pits of hell. It was her favorite boob too. It still is.

Onto other fun stories!

I didn't marry an @ss!!  I knew it! He is a wonderful, caring, sensitive, loving, funny, awesome, smart, sexy, handsome man. He just had a moment of weakness. It happens. I was a bee-atch. It happens. But everything is all lovey dovey once more :) Yay! Being in love is so yummy :)

It's CHRISTMAS!! My tree et al is up. The baby is trying her best to take it back down. I am Jingle Bell Rocking all around the kitchen thanks to this amazing lil program called Spotify. Since I can't get any Trini radio stations to play on the Mac (because the Mac, the radio stations and / or I am incompetant), I am using this nifty thingy to listen to all my music. Unless you like really crappy pop, obscure Euro trash tunes or weird techno music, Estonian radio just doesn't cut it.

Music is such an important part of Christmas, isn't it! There is nothing like the notes of those old hymns or the jingling of the bubbly Christmas pop to transport you back to your own childhood days when Christmas was a time of magic. Listening to it today while I pushed the baby around in the living room in her stroller (she likes it, we don't have to get dressed, I'm sure we look weird, but I'm not complaining) I felt that magic again.

The magic of twinkling lights; the excitement of trying to catch a glimpse of Santa and his flying reindeer; the smell of ham, home-made bread, sorrel, ponche-de-creme, turkey and stuffing; the bustling feeling of preparation in the air; the choir at church who always give it that extra jazz; the magical stories; the beautiful, fairy-tale decorations at the mall; the new curtains and freshly painted walls; the happy visitors; the creche; the generosity; the laughter of Christmas morning; the ''how yuh Christmas shaping up?'' from everybody you meet; Soca Santa sweating on the highway in his roller skates advertising Elsa's Toy Store; the any-time-of-the-day-traffic-jams; the music that plays only at this time of year.

Elbonia doesn't really celebrate Christmas. They acknowledge it all right, but I wouldn't use the word ''Celebrate''. They are a reserved people (coughcoughgrinchescoughcough) If you blink at the mall you are likely to miss the decorations. Nary is carol to be heard.  Polar opposite to Trini Christmas.  Trini's are everything but reserved.

This will be my 3rd year away from home for Christmas. I would give anything to be back in Trini. But Birmingham will have to do. Yup! Birmingham. One of my closest friends, Nalini and her two little girls are leaving warm and sunny / rainy Trini to spend a cold Yuletide with her brother in B'ham. The Angel, hubby and I will be crashing.  We'll be kicking it pseudo-trini style, with scarves and sweaters instead of strappy tops and stilettos . Grocery lists are being compiled for real Trini ingredients as I write.  And I am finally feeling ''it''.

I'm really really looking forward to Christmas this year :)

Are you feeling the feeling yet?

Bets are on.

I'm still not speaking to the Large Child I married. A simple apology for being an imbecile was all that I needed. Instead, what I got was Mr. Wrong and Strong (is that just a trini phrase?). And a repeat performance on imbecility. Yes. A repeat performance.

I wonder how long it will take before it registers that:
1. Children and babies, like other mammals, need food and water on a regular and continuous basis.
2. Defending idiocy is a guaranteed panty-blocker.

I'm taking bets!

YAAAAAAAAAWN, grumble grumble grumble

You know how much sleep new moms get right?  Well, the ones that don't use sleep training anyway. This isn't about sleep training the Angel, so I don't need any advice there.  But thanks all the same :)

The way I figure it, I'm still a new mom.

Do you know how much sleep the new mom of a sick baby gets?  It is like taking the amount that she normally gets (which isn't much), and dividing it by a kajillion.  Or thereabouts.  You can round it off if you feel like.

Did I mention that it is winter?

One thing I learnt early on about this thing they call winter, EVERYBODY gets sick.  More than once.  More than twice.  Heck even more than 3 times.  And the funny thing about babies is that if someone coughs in the next town, they get sick too.

She's been sick 3 times so far.  Winter just started.  Sleep is allergic to me.

The bags under my eyes look like the big heavy duty garbage bags you use after a smashing party.  Now if I had been to the party... that was another lifetime.

So this morning I asked the man large child I live with (formerly known as The Funny Dude) if he would PLEASE take the baby downstairs after I nursed her and had been up for OVER AN HOUR WHILE HE SLEPT ON OBLIVIOUSLY so that I could grab just a little shut eye.  Just a little.

Eventually he did.  Waking up takes time, you know.  It does one no good to be rushed and all.  

The Angel was less than impressed at first, but eventually I heard her playing begrudgingly, and I rolled over, pulled the covers over my head and literally Slippery-Slope-FELL into a deep sleep.

But OF COURSE, it was just too good to last.

Her cries woke me up.  It's an evolutionary thing I hear.  Apparently dads don't have that ''baby is crying = alarm bell in my soul'' gene.  Which explains why he is usually SLEEPING ON OBLIVIOUSLY while I am NOT.

But I forgot to give you some background:

EVERY morning for the past SIX MONTHS or so, I make breakfast for us.  Fruits, yogurt, bread, cheese, eggs, oatmeal, pancakes... any combination of those that I can throw together.  Hubby usually just drinks coffee.  I feed the baby and myself.  EVERY MORNING.  This is NOT a new routine.

Back to the story.

Hubby opens the door to my short-lived haven and hands over a teary, sobby, snotty, sad, little Angel.  Poor thing.

''Did you give her breakfast?'' was my STOOOOOOOOPID question.

Honestly, if I could turn back time, I wouldn't have bothered to ask.  And saved myself a butt-load of thunderbolts.

''We don't have anything,'' was the DAFT AND OBVIOUSLY UNINFORMED reply.

You see, there was yogurt, bread, cream cheese, butter, oatmeal, cheerios, baby biscuits, fruits, even left-over pizza. 

But STUPID ME!!

I LEFT THE IDIOT THINGS IN THE FRIDGE!!!

Preeeesenting: The Angel's First Year complete with sappy Savage Garden song.

I finally got it to work. YAY!!  clap clap clap.  *takes a bow*

I know the song is super cheesy; but since she was born, every time I hear it, I fill up and overflow with Mommy Love.  Probably not the reaction they had in mind when they wrote it, but...  tough cookies.

So here you go.  The Angel's first year.

WT... on Wednesday

It's that time again! You know, where I share with you all the *beep* moments of my week.

I planned everything for the Angel's first birthday on Sunday gone... a clown to do balloon tricks, a menu that wasn't entirely based on sugar, friends from near and far with kids, balloons galore, custom-designed cake, hats and noisy thingamabobs. Everything. Or so I thought. I forgot to ask Mother Nature for permission to have a 'do'. And she had other plans. She thought a SNOW STORM would be more fun. WT...(AAAAAHHHHH) So much for the party. We ate the cake anyway, with 2 neighbours who braved the blizzard to join us. And then built a snow-man.

Google keeps ignoring me when I try to log in. WT...??? And that means blogger too. This post is a fluke.

Hours spent putting a slideshow of the Angel's first year together, complete with sappy music, seem to be in vain. Blogger and YouTube won't let me upload it. WT... (grrrrrrrrrr).

Some Estonian kids keep showing up at my door dressed in weird costumes and singing weird songs. And I have to give them snacks. WT...! Halloween was weeks ago! Now I have no more cookies.

Not too bad a week actually. It could have been worse.

What about you? How has your week gone so far?

Thursday 13. My first year of being a Mama.

In a few days, the Angel's first year will have be over. My baby just isn't a baby anymore. There were times during this year that I longed for her to be older just so I could understand and be understood, but there were countless more times when I held onto every inch of her soft, baby sweetness and whispered ''I want you to stay like this forever.''

1. Mommy-love is the most overwhelmingly beautiful thing that I have ever experienced. When she was first born, it took me completely by surprise and I swore I could never have another baby. It just wasn't possible to love more than one person this much. Now, I'm not so sure. Me thinks me wants more... lots more :) (Relax honey, I can wait a little while longer.)

2. Labour is the most horrendously, excruciatingly PAINFUL thing that I have ever experienced. When it was over, I swore that I would NEVER EVER EVER have another baby. There was NO WAY IN HELL that I would put myself through that again. And that was with an epidural (or so they told me). Now, I'm not so sure. Me thinks me wants an all-natural home birth next time :)

3. I don't know of anything sweeter than my baby's smile.

4. I don't know of anything more heartbreaking than my baby's tears.

5. Sleepless nights suck. You get over it and live to see another day. Although that doesn't change the fact that it sucks. It sucks especially hard when, despite being awake for half the night, the baby decides to start the day at 5:30 am.

6. Sucking the snot out of your newborn's nose when she can't breathe isn't as gross as it sounds. It tastes like water, but slightly more gelatinous. I know you were dying for that tidbit of information :D

7. Everyday I experience more joy than I knew existed before I had her.

8. I have, at times, gone days without a shower; I have often been covered in puke, snot, pee, poop, and sometimes a combination; I can't remember the last time I had my nails done or wore high heels; I am still fabulous :)

9. Now that she is a toddler, I miss my baby.

10. Now that she is a toddler, I can't wait to see who she will become.

11. A toddler is a world of fun, shrieking giggles, silly games, tests of patience, jiggly bottoms scurrying away at nappy-change-time, splashy baths, everything needs to be tasted, cupboards are for emptying, cat tails are for pulling, sweet snuggles, and unabashed love.

12. A newborn is a world of tiny hands, the sweetest angel sighs, itsy bitsy clothes, heart-breaking tenderness, softly curled little bodies, miraculous beginnings, and love love love.

13. Seeing a man lovingly take care of his baby is a guaranteed panty-dropper. (thanks for that lovely expression Witchypoo :)

WT... on Wednesday

CENSORSHIP!! WT...

Because I'm a good girl who listens to her parents (kyaaah kyaah kyaaah) I've decided to change my smash hit 'WTF Friday'. It was a one hit wonder. Now, you can express yourself with varying degrees of shock, surprise, anger, OMG'ness; from ''What the Heck'', to ''What the Blazing Red Firetruck''.

Express yourself!

No, I'm not a snob

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It's just that I can't seem to find the time to check you out, my wonderful bloggy friends, or if I do, I can't get around to writing my comments. I sometimes get as far as clicking on your link... but then the baby wakes up.... again. She's teething.... again.

And for the past couple days I bin bizy making the invitations for her first birthday party! How exciting!!! Drawing and cutting and gluing and, and, and... Oh My!! I'm in kindergarten heaven.

So now I have to play ketchup. A quick glance yesterday let me know that there are many wonderful posts and comments waiting to be read. I'm drooling with anticipation, kinda like the Angel is also doing atm.

Off I go!

Tea Time

ˇ
Me: ''Turn on the kettle please honey.''

Funny Dude winks seductively at said kettle and suggestively rubs its smooth, round body: ''Uh huuuuuhhhh''

Funny Dude: ''No?''

Poor fella.

WTF Friday

Last night I found out that today will be Friday. WTF! Where did the week go? In honor of my Eureka moment, I present all the things this week that have made me say WTF:

Only 35% of Estonians supported Obama. WTF??

The fact that this was a defining moment in history was not that important here (except to us foreigners). There wasn't much ado about it at all. WTF?

There was ICE on the car this morning. WTF!!

The Prime Minister of Trinidad wants to spend 35 million TT dollars to lease luxury vehicles for the Summit of the Americas from BMW in Germany. The local dealers wanted to lease them to the government at no cost. WTF?!?!?!?!?!

The tooth fairy now has to pay 20 dollars per tooth. WTF! In my day, I got 25 cents! Kinda like how in my parents' day they used to pay 3 cents for a loaf of bread, with cheese. Damn I feel old.

They say it takes a village to raise a child. So why am I doing this alone? WTF! (Yes, I have a husband, but he is at work all day. He does what he can, especially after enthusiastic discussions about the value of sitting on the couch with his laptop and its impact on the parenting experience.)

The cat's bowl is empty. Am I the only one that sees that? WTF?

I've been very tired, kinda pukey, head-achey, my boobs are sporadically leaking, but the pee-pee stick only shows 1 line. WTF??

Sarah Palin didn't know that Africa was a continent. W.T.F???????????

I saw a t-shirt that read ''Don't blame me, I voted for McCain''. WTF?

In 2 weeks, the Angel will be ONE YEAR OLD. WTF?!! Where did the year go??????? My tiny, soft, precious, beautiful, cooing, fragile little newborn is now a rumbling, tumbling, babbling, even more precious, even more beautiful toddler. But more on that in another post.

I am a wife and mother! WTF!!!!!! (But that's to be read in more of a ''Oh my God! HOW COOOOOL'' kinda way )

So there you have it. My Eureka moments for this week. Did you have any?

And now I hope.

So finally Ye Yankees have done something that the rest of the world fully agrees with. Kudos. Two very enthusiastic and wiggly thumbs up, with smiley lipstick faces painted on them (not the same shade Miss Alaska uses, obviously).

And now I allow myself the feeling of hope; a feeling that I have kept a lid on for the past couple months. Although I did take a lil taste every now and again.

I hope.

I hope that if a country as large and diverse and varying with extremes as the US can come together regardless of any differences to collectively choose something good, then so too can my own tiny country.

I hope that one day my faith will be restored in Trinidad's politicians, and that one day I will have a Prime Minister and Members of Parliament that I can respect, and even look up to.

I hope that climate change becomes an important enough issue in the US for Trini politicians to be forced to take it seriously too.

I hope that my daughter will grow up in a world that isn't 90% below sea level, and destroyed by war.

I hope that war will not be never again be the first option.

I hope that the disenfranchised young men in Trinidad's ghettos will see this new president as a role model, as something worth emulating, and feel the strength they need to change their lives and neighbourhoods.

I hope that somebody reading this will send me an Obama T-shirt (size S) :) I don't care if you have worn it already. I just want a little piece of history that I can be proud of, and that will restore my faith in humanity when it needs restoring.

A scary story for Nan with horny demons and broom sticks.

ˇ
My bee-ooootiful friend Nan wants us folks who read her blog to write some scary stories, preferably with ghosts. Ooooo, OOOOOO. I don't have a story with ghosts; will horny demons be ok, Nan?

Back in 1999 I worked ''down south'' in Trinidad. Every evening, I would take a taxi to Chaguanas, my home town, and call home for someone to come pick me up. This was before everybody and their toddler had cell phones, so a line at the sole working pay phone was inevitable.

Sidenote: A working pay phone in Trinidad is a rare thing, at least most of the times that I have ever needed it. Like that time Dominique and I shut down just outside the most notorious ghetto (Beetham / Laventille) at 5 am (which incidentally is a scary story by itself). We walked all over town trying to find a phone after being robbed, never found one, begged the manager at KFC to no avail, and were eventually pitied by a KFC customer who had a cell. But that's another story.

So I was walking to the snaking pay phone line, cigarette in hand after the no-smoking taxi ride and minding my own biz. At the end of the line, there is a tall, dark man with a white tam (that's the small hat often worn by muslim men). He starts looking around, agitated. Then he zeros in on me.

''You should be smoking Broadway, not DuMaurier'' he offers.

Out loud ''Um, yeah, ok'', smile. Mentally ''Whatever dude'', roll eyes and make this face :-S

''Broadway is a spiritual cigarette and you are a spiritual person''.

Raise eyebrow ''OK'', and start looking around to avoid further conversation and wish for own car to avoid the weirdos associated with public transport and public phones.

Another sidenote: If it wasn't for this particular weirdo, I would have nothing to write for Nan. So thanks dude, and thank you Universe for making not rich enough to have my own car and cell phone in 1999.

Back to the Man in the Tam. ''Your lucky colour is blue, and your business day is Wednesday. You should wear blue on Wednesdays when you have meetings or anything important at work.''

Sigh, I guess this beats standing in a long line staring at my toes. ''Yeah? What else?''

From here on, my memory gets a bit blurry. There were a bunch of things he told me, but I don't remember them all. So where's the scary part, right? It's coming, it's coming.

''You have bruises on your thighs. You get headaches and back pains. You have a vaginal infection.''

BLINK BLINK.

''There is a demon having intercourse with you on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. That's why you wake up feeling so tired on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays.''

Honestly, I thought the Saturday crap feeling was just a hangover. The other days, were probably because I went to sleep too late. Couldn't explain the bruises, pains and itchies though. As for how the hell he KNEW???

''It was from a woman, through a man. She is jealous of you. Your light is growing dim and you need to do something about it.''

I think I asked him what I needed to do, or something else at that point. I remember he told me how to get to where he lived because he could help me; he was a Spiritual Baptist leader, also known as an Obeah Man (Voodoo Doctor is another name).

''But you will do something when the time is right for you.''

By this time, we are at the front of the line. He makes his call; I, with shaking knees make mine.

We continued talking; I guess about my demons. I don't really remember.

A few days later, I was liming (that's trini-speak for hanging out) with my usual crew, at the usual place: The Sheppard's house. Nan, being married to a Sheppard, was also there. Of course I told my story. Nan offered to take me to see a friend of hers, a yogi.

Sometime later (a few weeks, or maybe even months I think) we went.

Deep into the Paramin hills of Trinidad's Northern Range.

It looked like something out of a movie; maybe like a hobbit village in Lord of the Rings.

A house built into the mountain. Small huts around. White painted stones. Meandering paths. Huge trees that grew where they wanted, and have lived longer than my grandparents.

The yogi had long whitish-blonde hair. She had that open warmth about her. The kind where you know the person is real. She hugged like that too. An open full hug. ''We were sisters in a past life'' she told me.

Yes, it's another sidenote. She also told me that I will be a writer. And that I should write when I can. It has only taken me nearly 10 years to start doing it.

I told her about the man, the demons, how much I prayed that night, and many nights after, and that the symptoms had gone.

She took me, with my friend Rachel to one of the wooden huts. Nan was pregnant at the time, and decided to stay back at the main house. There was a straw mat on the ground, big open windows; a little bird was flitting around inside.

''You can lie down there'' she said warmly, pointing at the mat, and picking up 2 cocoyea brooms.

Sidenote of actual importance: Cocoyea is the spine of coconut tree leaves. The leaves are stripped, and the spines can then be tied together in big bunches to make brooms. They are great for sweeping the yard, and also, apparently for getting rid of horny demons.

''Ohm Kali, Ohm Kali, Ohm Kali, Ohm Kali, Ohm Kali'' she chanted, circling me, sweeping the spindly brooms over my body, inches from my skin. ''Ohm Kali, Ohm Kali, Ohm Kali, Ohm Kali'' louder and louder, picking up the pace.

''Get out! You are not welcome here. Leave her alone. Go away.'' Sweeping, circling, chanting.

''Ohm Kali, Ohm Kali, Ohm Kali, Ohm Kali''. Her chants began to get calmer, softer. And then she stopped.

''You must be a very strong person to have kept him off for so long. But he is gone now.''

Friday night

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I had me a lil ol' celebration of my fantastic 30 years of life, coupled with a housewarming.


I'm trying to get the music list done, and downing my first glass of wine. Do you see why I don't blog more often? My desk is still-to-be-unpacked-boxes, and my chair is a still-to-be-unpacked suitcase.


There was still paper on the windows because we haven't bought curtains / blinds yet. We haven't decided what we want yet. Paper works for now. Haute Couture. The latest in window treatment design. By my 3rd glass of wine, incidentally, I was going into great detail on how to avoid an episiotomy via perineum massage with my pregnant friend and her husband, seen here.


I don't remember, but I'm sure it was really funny.


UFO?


We make such a CUTE couple! Notice the tilt in the glass numero 4?


I do actually have friends, I just need to throw parties to get them to come around more often.

Thursday Thirteen... on turning 30

As some of you know, I hit the top of the hill yesterday! Whooot whoot!! To celebrate, I had a lovely nap. Bliss. Thanks for all the good wishes, tips, Facebook messages, text messages, phone calls and Happy Birthday vibes that you sent my way :) Every one of them made me smile, and that's always a good thing!

I thought that maybe I would give this Thursday Thirteen thingamabob a try. Surely I can think of 13 things to say about the journey to turning 30. So here we go:

1. Life gets a bit clearer when you are who you really are. Not that I fully know who I am yet, but I am beginning to know her. She isn't half bad, is surprisingly intuitive when she really listens to her soul voice, and doesn't like people who aren't real (ironic huh!). I don't know why I spent so much time trying to be who I am not (maybe I was just trying out different styles), but I am glad that the real me is showing up more often.

2. Relationships are easy when they are with the right people. The difficult ones generally aren't worth the hassle. As I get a lil older, I'm finding it easier to let go of the difficult ones.

3. I don't know half as much as I thought I did; but I'm beginning to learn.

4. No matter what your philosophy is on life, parenting, work, books, art, how to put on a nappy, the best way to cook chicken, what colour shoes you should wear or coffee vs tea, there will be people who will think that you should do it differently. This is a good thing. Doing what I truly believe is best is almost always best for me.

5. Fresh air is always good.

6. Comfy shoes are better than ankle-breakers / circulation-cut-off'ers. Now we just need them to start making the impossible: Comfy AND pretty. Until then, sometimes I'll just have to grin and bear it :-)

7. Partying is fun.

8. So is curling up on the couch with hubby / a good book / the laptop / the cat.

9. I like not waking up with a hangover.

10. Girlfriends are essential. I miss mine and wish they didn't all live so very far away. Writing that made me cry ;-(

11. I am incredibly lonely.

12. My family is the most important thing there is in my life. Hubby, my baby, my parents and brother are my world.

13. Becoming a mom has finally given me a real purpose in life. No ''job'' can give me the kind of joy or fulfillment that taking care of my baby and family does. I know that I couldn't have this life back in Trinidad (Estonia's maternity leave is 1.5 years fully paid), so I guess I just have to work harder at not being lonely. On the same note, no job has ever been this hard. It is the steepest learning curve I have ever encountered, coupled with the least sleep, non-stop 24/7 demands, and hourly tests of my patience which I sometimes don't pass. But I would never ask for it to change... except maybe that she would sleep all night, be immune to teething pain and colds, and think that the view from the floor was much cooler than the view from my sometimes weary arms.

13.5 I still feel like I'm 27. And I'm glad that I am no longer 21, as much crazy fun as it was.

So there we have it. It is a milestone. I have reached it. I still have faaaaaar to go, and if the journey from here on out is even half the fun that the past 30 years have been, I'm in for a cool ride.

housewife + blogging equations

bigger house = more housework

new house = i like to keep it looking new and clean

baby trying to feed herself = mess mess mess

I like being barefoot, but hate feeling grit or dust underfoot when I'm inside + baby trying to feed herself + return of cavorting cat who does nothing but shed hair all day long = me sweeping so many times I wonder if I am on the verge of OCD.

me on the verge of OCD + bigger house + new house = having very little time to blog

having very little time to blog - convenient access to computer as it is on the floor because we haven't bought a desk yet = not much blogging done.

1 swanky new fangly ipod touch from hubby = I can still read everybody else's blog but really couldn't be bothered trying to type comments or my own blog entries with one finger on such a small screen.

writing this blog post = me choosing not to use the baby's nap time to have a shower or take a nap myself.

I know by now you are just over yourself with jealousy for the excitement that is my life ;-)

On the other hand, tomorrow = Happy 30th Birthday to Moi!

What shall I do?! What shall I do?!?! Sweep again? Vacuum again? Nap? Shower? Decisions decisons!

QOTD

"Nobody tells you that if you live long enough and if you survive the inevitable stresses and mistakes, the best part of parenting is having your children in your life as adults ... your ultimate purpose is to get through the child development years to savor the pleasure of having in your life a magnificent adult with whom you have an excellent relationship ... if you're aware at the beginning how this process works, you can make better choices about the kind of memories you want to end up with."
Lois Haddad.

Baby steps

ˇ
She's taking them! Yes folks, the Angel is walkin'. It will be a while before she is ready for a marathon, but the first shaky but proud, tentative but determined, I don't need my mama, baby steps have been taken. This is when it is supposed to get easier, right? Right? Please say yes!

I'm so proud of her. *beaming stupid grin*

But I don't think it can compare to how proud she is of herself :)

And just in time too. All I have been hearing from my mom is how my brother and I walked in 10 months. And it's still a few weeks until her 11 month birthday. Not that it matters to me. But now my mom can go telling her friends that her grandchild is walking.

She seems to have taken after me though... most comfortable when barefoot. Shoes just seem to get in the way. A sad state of affairs when it is 10ˇC outside.

I don't have a video yet. When she was doing her thang I glanced longingly at the camera perched on the kitchen counter, knowing that if I got it, all she would want to do it eat it. And then you would have a video of baby teeth and drool and not baby steps.

On another note, Alex spent his 3rd night somewhere that isn't here :( I'm still holding onto hope that he will come home.


P.S. I entered some of those fave thingies on my profile, if you care.

P.P.S She is actually 1 week away from 11 months... and 1 week away from my 30th! OMG!! When did that happen???

Puusy cat, pussy cat, where have you been?

London visiting the Queen?
The row of houses under construction across the street?
A neighbour's garage?
Inside the neighbour's dog?

My cat Alex iz mizzin. I opened the door last night and out he went. With laptop in one hand, squiggly baby in the other, my parents on Skype and a lasagne beeping in the oven, I just wasn't able to stop him.

Alex is where they get the phrase Scaredy Cat. And with the move to the new house, plus a complete lack of any outdoor experience (we lived in the city and he didn't know how to operate the elevator), he must be pissin himself somewhere. He might hear me calling him, but he ain't gonna answer.

I've put his litter box and some food outside (as per the experts) and am keeping hope alive.

Any other tips on locating stupid cats?

He doesn't have a collar or microchip :(

Another tale from the rock, and a lil extra

ˇ
First, the lil extra: We moved into our new home this weekend! I am currently wading through boxes, bags, suitcases, dust, yadda yadda yadda, with an Angel who is trying to walk, but mostly just pulling my pants down. I'll be a hit with the neighbours for sure.

Now, onto Another tale from the rock, courtesy my brother in Bermuda:


Yes folks,

El Capitan here again with another tale of the strange occurances in the triangle.

This weekend is a long one and most of the trinis were either abroad like Jasen enjoying Miami carnival and Shelly (Safraz's wife) eating out the whole of Minnesota or moving incognito like Michael so it was down to Safraz and yours truly.

We decided that we would go fishing on this very afternoon. Safraz had heard of a nearby fishing spot on the Rockaway jetty. Yes folks, its so strange that not even I could make up that name and yes, Safraz is the same one who made us end up in the choppy water aboard the HMS Sinkeasy.

The sky was very overcast and a cold breeze was blowing when we got to the jetty. We scoped out the waters around the jetty and noticed that there were several good fish about.

We were getting our fishing rods ready when Safraz got up and started walking towards the stairs. At first I thought nothing of it - you see, my rod is an exceptionally long rod and requires proper handling and technique to get it full strength and readiness so I was preoccupied...as far as I know he could have been going down the stairs to let something out of his rod!

While cutting the bait to put on the hook I heard this splash...well more of a "splutunk". It sounded like a shoe had landed in the water. Still, I had to look as we were the only 2 people in the area. There was no one around, not even Safraz!

After a few seconds had passed, Safraz's head resurfaced and he was desperately trying to climb back on the jetty but the tide was still too low for him to reach so I ran down those stairs as only El Capitan could but did not think that whatever happened to him could also happen to me! Too late.

As I reached the last stair, I skidded on the moss and screamed "AAAAAA" but fate had a different plan for me. I just landed on the last step but still could pull Safraz to safety.

After I laughed myself back to the top, I asked what happened and told him the only thing I heard was this innocuous "splutunk". Maybe it was the laughter but I still have no idea what he went down those stairs for only that he slipped off the jetty without making a "peep". The man silently fell off a jetty folks.

Perhaps if he had done like me and screamed he would have landed back on the stairs.

Out of the Butts of Babes

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A 10 cent coin. Roughly the size of one US penny.

The Angel that laid the Golden Egg?? Our very own ATM machine? The Alchemist reincarnated?

I swear I didn't feed it to her. Cross my heart. See picture for proof that I am not a completely delinquent parent.

Though sorely tempted to provide photographic evidence that I am not making this up for the sake of a blog post, I decided you may prefer to take my word for it.



See! Veggies, not money. Veggies.

Typical Morning Conversations with the Funny Dude, Part 2

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Hubby: I think I shall buy myself a new hat... like This One!





(Click here for Part 1)

More about Moi

Thanks to Green Girl, I have something to say today. In real life, I'm not exactly known as quiet, so why is it so darn hard to get a post together sometimes???

Anyway, I got this from her. And since I know you are all DYING to know more about Moi, here you go:

1. What are your nicknames? T, Teri, Hoooney, mamama, and my mom used to call me Tessa a billion light years ago.

2. What game show and/or reality show would you like to be on? Since this is completely hypothetical, I would love to be on Jeopardy, cuz to even qualify would mean that I'm really REALLY smart.

3. What was the first movie you bought in VHS or DVD? I can't remember VHS, but the first DVD was Memoirs of a Geisha... crappy pirate copy for 10 TT dollars (about 1.50 US) downtown in Trini.

4. What is your favorite scent? A Bakery, and sweet, clean baby.

5. If you had a million dollars that you could only spend on yourself, what would you do with it? Get my whole family together for Christmas. Bank the change.

6. What one place have you visited that you can't forget and want to go back to? New York.

7. Do you trust easily? Yeah, unless you are obviously full of sh*t.

8. Do you think before you act, or act before you think? This is a toss up, but I am finally learning to think first... some of the time.

9. Is there anything that has made you unhappy these days? That I will miss yet another Trini Christmas with my family. Trini's do Christmas better than Anybody, Anywhere. The music, food, drinks, house limes (get-togethers) and the prelude to Carnival. I haven't felt it in 3 years :(

10. Do you have a good body image? I'm a yummy mummy ;-)

11. What is your favorite fruit? Fresh young coconuts with soft jelly, mangoes, cold watermelon, all kinds of berries. I can't narrow it down to 1.

12. What websites do you visit daily? My bloggy friends, Trinidad Express, Yahoo

13. What have you been seriously addicted to lately? A box of chocolate chip cookies and camomille tea at night after the baby goes to bed, and Oprah at the same time. And this whole new world of Blogging.

14. What kind of person do you think the person who tagged you is? I don't really know her well, but she seems pretty cool so far.

15. What's the last song that got stuck in your head? Day-O, Daylight come and me wanna go home. I did a lil dance routine with the Angel earlier... had her giggling :)

16. What's your favorite item of clothing? As of today, my new, super-comfy Victoria's Secret jammies that hubby bought on his trip.

17. Do you think Rice Krispies are yummy? Definitely more-ish

18. What would you do if you saw $100 lying on the ground? Pick it up and thank the Universe for its many blessings, unless I see the owner nearby... in which case, well, he should be thanking the Universe for me.

19. What items could you not go without during the day? The Angel's sling; for everything else, there is an alternative.

20. What should you be doing right now? The dishes... bleh.


I don't like the whole tagging thing, so I won't. But feel free to DIY. Lemme know if you do, so I can come check it out :)

Wanna free NICE bag?

I found out about this from Witchypoo and am always up for a new bag. Who isn't???

So while my poor hubby is dead asleep on the couch, I am passing this onto you.

Handbag Planet is launching their new website and they're giving away 24 bags in 24 hours to celebrate. Just click here and you're in!

The bags are pretty nice too.

With love from Moi.

Tomorrow, tomorrow...

I love ya,
Tomorrow.
You're only a DAY AWAAAAAAAAAYYYYYY!!!

Shave legs et al - Check
Wash hair - Check
Buy special stuff for dinner - Check
Buy his favorite beer - Dang, I knew there was something I forgot. Will correct this on the morrow.
Go to sleep early tonight - Checked as soon as this is posted.

Y'all unnerstan if you don't hear from me tomorrow, right?

Not the sharpest tool in the shed

Hubby: Honey! We're going to see the Hoover Dam this weekend!

Me: That's the one from the Beavis & Butthead movie, right?

Hubby: Um, yeah. (weird look comes over his face and there is a slight shake of his head)

Me: Yeah. Of all the millions of interesting facts about the Hoover Dam, that's the one I remember.


What can I say... I just have more pressing issues competing for grey matter than Hoover and his Dams :-P

Saturday night on the couch.

My last weekend of the single mama drama. WHEW. Praise the Universe and everybody in it. I have survived this far, surely I can go a few more days until the LOVE of my LIFE gets back into my lonely arms on Tuesday to be squished for hours and hours and hours. I will show the Angel the TRUE meaning of clingy.

She misses him too. She just lights up when she hears Skype ringing and sees him on the screen :)

On another note, I seem to have got the whole step-mommy thing down! Yes, I am a step-mama too... and apparently not of the beautiful but evil with poisoned apple persuasion. My step-daughter has spent both weekends with us, even though her dad isn't here... by her own choice. I guess I can't be doing too badly a job if she wants to hang out with me all weekend long, twice. Although I'm sure the Angel does get some credit... and the absence of a certain pesky younger brother that you don't have to share the computer with. But it has been cool. Becoming a mama myself has made the step-part muuuuch easier and more fun.

And Saturday night finds me curled on the couch, cup of tea in hand, my book and cat on my lap. I have been trying to read this book since my Mom gave it to me back home in July. Which really is not an accurate reflection of how good it is. It really is good. I have had so many moments of ''Yes, this is True'' reading it. Which just cause me to put it down and get lost in my own thoughts as I ponder the deep, real wisdom that is The Seat of the Soul. Anybody else read it?

Martha or Maxine??

I got this in an email so I get nada credit for it. Made me giggle a bit, and I am always happy to share a good giggle :)


Are you Martha or Maxine?



Stuff a miniature marshmallow in the bottom of an ice cream cone to prevent ice cream drips.

Just suck the ice cream out of the bottom of the cone, for Pete's sake! You are probably lying on the couch with your feet up eating it, anyway!




To keep potatoes from budding, place an apple in the bag with the potatoes.

Buy Hungry Jack mashed potato mix. Keeps in the pantry for up to a year.




When a cake recipe calls for flouring the baking pan, use a bit of the dry cake mix instead and there won't be any white mess on the outside of the cake.

Go to the bakery! Hell, they'll even decorate it for you!




If you accidentally over-salt a dish while it's still cooking, drop in a peeled potato and it will absorb the excess salt for an instant 'fix-me-up.'

If you over-salt a dish while you are cooking, that's too bad. Please recite with me the real woman's motto: 'I made it, you will eat it and I don't care how bad it tastes!'




Wrap celery in aluminum foil when putting in the refrigerator and it will keep for weeks.

Celery? Never heard of it!





Brush some beaten egg white over pie crust before baking to yield a beautiful glossy finish.

The Mrs. Smith frozen pie directions do not include brushing egg whites over the crust, so I don't.




Cure for headaches: take a lime, cut it in half and rub it on your forehead. The throbbing will go away.

Take a lime, mix it with tequila, chill and drink! All your pains go away!





If you have a problem opening jars, try using latex dish washing gloves. They give a non-slip grip that makes opening jars easy.

Go ask that very cute neighbor if he can open it for you.





Don't throw out all that leftover wine. Freeze into ice cubes for future use in casseroles and sauces.

Leftover wine??????????? HELLO!!!!!!!





Soooo... which one are you??? 3 guesses as to who I am!

Oh so very very very loooong day

Hubby has been in the US o' A for the last week. He's still there. He's gonna be there all this week too.

I have been here. A.L.O.N.E.

This single mom stuff is very very (badword) hard.

Tash, and Bella, hats off to you ladies. And in case you forget, tell your parents how much you LOVE and APPRECIATE the HELP and SUPPORT that they give you. Because, trust me, not having ANY SUPPORT, is NOT EASY.

I am too tired to think straight, and have had to correct too many typos in the last 5 lines.

Oh Happy Day!

You guys and gals ROCK! I opened my email this morning and Whoop Ti Whooop!! Comments out the wazoo! So I started singing and dancing with the Angel and playing this.

And so my Friday is off to a wonderful start. Thanks folks :)

PLUS!! The sun is all shining and pretty too. *cue the birds singing*

Have a Fabulous Day!

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens

Firstly, thanks Tash for the inspiration for this post :)

So what make me happy:

Comments on my blog (hint hint)
Chocolate chip cookies
Big, warm mugs of tea
Laughing and playing with the Angel
Laughing and playing with Hubby
Flowers (hint hint hon)
A video call with my parents
Hearing from my brother
Successfully cooking a tasty meal that Hubby and I genuinely enjoy
A cant-put-down book
Night time snuggles
Catching Pretty Woman on TV
Movies with a happy ending
A good gossipy phone call with my girlfriends (whom I miss sooooo much)
Knowing that I am where I am supposed to be.


P.S. Nan, this is for you :)

In Tallinn Today

The leaves are changing colour. The bright green of summer is turning into a blend of gold, bronze, red, and orange.

Gone are the light and lazy cotton t-shirts. Heavy coats, wool sweaters, knitted scarves, warm gloves now cocoon their hurried wearers. The wind is brisk and biting.

Sunset is earlier than it was yesterday. Sunrise is later.

The smell of fast approaching winter is in the air.

Peekaboo!

And now for something completely different.

I'm willing to bet that most of you won't have a clue who Apache Indian is. To begin with, he's not Native American, he's the other kind of Indian, you know the ones who eat spicy stuff, and have funny accents, and are either IT experts or doctors.

Or in this case, reggae singers.

Yes, I know. The thought of an Indian reggae singer is a little strange.

But nonetheless, he is. And he has had a couple hits like this and this. Well, they were big hits in Trinidad at any rate. Tash, I am SURE you remember boogieing to these at Coconuts or Base or Life ;-)

Last night hubby, being a huge dancehall and reggae fan (another reason he married a Caribbean chick, Moi) came across something very very different from Apache.

And it really struck something in me. If you liked Shanti / Ashtangi by Madonna, you will probably like this too.


And there's your Friday Entertainment from me :)

Peace and love

I haven't come up with anything of my own today, but I did find this to share.

Enjoy!

Because YOU make my day :)

My fantastically fabulous friends Nan and Tash, whom some of you know, are all about sharing the love. They gave me this:



I sat here, drinking water from the angel's sippy cup because I am too lazy / tired to go get my own, and thought about the bloggy folks that make my day too.

Then I had to go season some chicken for dinner, kiss a boo boo, play with Mr. Elephant, research a new stroller online because the one I bought is total crud, dance the Angel down for her nap.

Sidenote 1: The Quinny Zapp is an overpriced and oversized umbrella stroller. Don't be fooled. Don't waste your money. Anyone wanna buy a almost-never-used one?

Sidenote 2: I 'm kinda jealous of ye who can just put your babies down and they go to sleep. I love dancing / swinging / rocking her to sleep, but sometimes my back... she is getting heavy. Its just a phase.

But back to the important stuff: You, You and YOU!! I give this award to You.

Because YOU make my day :) Everybody that spends their precious time reading my brain-farts. You make me feel special and loved. And you help me feel less lonely. And you make me laugh. And you inspire me. And you help me to challenge myself. And you let me be me.

And I am grateful grateful grateful.

So thank you for coming to see me. And thank you for sharing with me.

You totally make my day, everyday :)

Who makes your day? Pass it on and let them know.

A tale of 2 mamas

My mom and I had a fairly typical relationship growing up. She, the experienced older woman, would tell me what to do, and I, the all-knowing teenager, would do the opposite. She was generally right. I generally got caught. And the times I didn't get caught, I think she and my dad just pretended... or ignored.

Things didn't change much when I entered my 20's. I was still all-knowing, and desperate to be out from under her wings. She was still being my mom.

Needless to say, there were some, ahem, differences of opinion, in our household.

But then I moved away. And got engaged. And got married. And got pregnant. And had a baby.

The day I came home from the hospital, she helped me get undressed, much like she did when I was a baby. Walking was difficult, as it can be after some 7+ pounds of small human explodes from your lady bits. So she walked for me. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, laundry, grocery shopping in a place that doesn't label anything in English, walking the baby... everything that needed to be done. So that I could sleep, and heal.

I don't know how I would have gotten through it without her and kept my sanity intact.

Needless to say, our relationship has changed.

I don't know if all mother-daughter relationships go through a change after the daughter herself becomes a mom. But I don't see how it can't. All of a sudden you become aware of a whole new perspective. And you begin to understand. And you are sorry for things that you said or did.

Today is my mom's birthday :) Her only wish was to hold her grand-daughter again. I wish she could have too, so I could go pee take the pictures I forgot to take when we were home in July. But we made do with the webcam. Its not perfect, but its all we have for now.

Happy Birthday Mom!! Wish you were here.

Brilliance, genius and excessive boasting

You will have to forgive me for this, but I just HAD to.

The angel is the smartest baby ever ever ever on the planet. I'm her mama, so I get to say that.

You get to say it about your babies too, of course.

But this is my blog.

So I shall say it again. She is the smartest, most genius, excessively gifted with extreme intelligence blah blah blah...

She learnt to say Milk! Well, sign, not actually say out loud. She's only 9 months. but still. I have been showing her the sign for milk when we nurse for about 3 weeks now, and today she started doing it too.

And then the heavens opened and angelic voices with a pretty beam of sunlight came down.

In case you give a hoot, the sign for milk is a fist that you open and close like you're milking a cow. Or so it looks to me.

And that's my story for today.

I got pissed off cuz hubby doesn't have boobs

And we wonder why they say women are impossible to please????

Not that I really want him to have boobs per se. I don't think that look would particularly suit him.

It was more of me wishing I could remove mine, just for a little while, and maybe give them to someone else, albeit temporarily.

I wish that for one night, just one night, I could sleep, all night long, without them being sucked on, tweaked, kicked, grabbed, squeezed... a jillion times.

Sigh.

Mmmmmmmmmm, shrimp

If you love shrimp even half as much as I do, then this recipe is for you. Super easy, super quick (like 10 minutes), SUPER YUM. And you can make it as spicy as you want. Being half-indian, I like to feel steam coming outta me ears, and hubby likes it hot too... that's why he married me, of course.

You're gonna need:
4 tbsp vegetable oil
2 cloves of garlic cuz vampires will come if you don't use garlic and you may not have a wooden stake handy.
1 tbsp crushed ginger. This really is not a lot of ginger, and the supermarket makes you buy this HUGE root, so you end up with lots left over. So unless you use ginger regularly, you will have to make this again.. several times... to use your ginger and not waste it. Because there are starving children in Africa.
2 lbs of big shrimp, cleaned. They say this should feed 8, but hubby and I ate it all by ourselves. I bought the frozen shrimp with the tails still attached cuz I like to suck them.
1/3 cup finely chopped chive that I can't think of anything to say about.
1 cup tomato sauce, ditto
2 tbsp Worcestershire Sauce, or wha-ch-ch-ch-ch sauce as we call it
1 tsp salt
1 tsp sugar
2 tbsp rum. I used red, cuz I hate white rum. No true trini drinks white rum. Royal Oak or 1919 is the best. Pour another glass for yourself as well.
Coke or Diet coke
Ice
1 tsp Monosodium glutamate (msg). I didn't use this. I hear its really bad for you, and have no idea how to translate it into Estonian anyway.
Black pepper
1 tbsp cornflour mixed with 2 tbsps of water
Hot pepper. They say that this is optional. But it isn't really. I can't imagine this without pepper.

Now you gotta:
Mix the rum in the glass with the coke and ice, but not too strong cuz you will be playing with knives and fire. Take a drink. Think about the beach.
Heat the oil in a pot or wok if you have fancy chinese cooking stuff. I used a pot.
Stir fry the garlic and ginger for a few seconds; add the shrimp and cook on a high heat for 3-4 minutes until they turn pink.
Add chive, tomato sauce, wha-ch-ch-ch-ch sauce, salt, sugar, 2 tbsps of rum, msg if you want, pepper and cornflour.
Cook until the sauce thickens (about 5 minutes).
Relax and finish your rum and coke.

You can serve it with rice. I like Jasmine rice and Basmati rice, but I guess any other rice will be fine too.

Enjoy!



By the way, the recipe is called Chow Har Lok as per the Trini Naps cookbook.

Tony

I realized this morning how angry I have been for a long time. Angry with him for things he did that hurt me. Angry with him for throwing his life away bit by bit over the past years. Angry with him for not facing his demons. Angry with him for ignoring the love and help his friends and family tried over and over to give him. Angry with his parents. Angry with myself.

I can't be angry anymore. I cannot judge.

The universe unfolds the way it should. Thank you for reminding me of that Tash.

Today is his funeral. A gifted, intelligent, loved, young man with a little baby boy, died from heart failure. It wasn't suicide.

One day his family, many many friends and I will understand, but for now I am grateful that he is at peace.

God speed. Rest in peace Tony. Be at peace.

Guidance needed

My ex died yesterday. Apparently suicide. The same ex that gave me the jewelry.
2 days after I tried to cut our spiritual ties.
1 day after I cleansed the jewelry of any negative energy so that they could be passed safely on to a new owner.

I don't believe in coincidences.

If anyone reading this can help me to process it, I would be grateful.

Thank you thank you thank you

It's WORKING!!!

I cleared out our money corner, which incidentally was hopelessly cluttered and dutsy, and then placed a nice basket with lots of spare change coins and a fat red candle that was a house warming present.

And things are looking up.

Thank you thank you thank you.

I am so happy and grateful for our blessings.

And recently, I put 8 pieces (because 8 is the number of wealth and prosperity) of gold in a little gold covered box and put it in the corner. Right after, we got a much appreciated housewarming present from my wonderful family.

Thank you thank you thank you!

Life is great :)


P.S. Your money power spot is the back left of your house and any room. Red and Gold, 8 pieces of lucky bamboo, water-stuff like an aquarium, a vase of pretty flowers, a lamp and plants are all good for you money-chi in this area.

Lookit how much roooom we have!

This Feng Shui stuff is GREAT!! I've thrown out bags and bags and HUGE bags of JUNK that was just cluttering my life and my cupboards. It really is amazing how much stuff you can accumulate, and how freeing it is to get rid of it all.

Clothes, shoes, handbags, belts, jewelry, dvd's... I still have boxes of books to tackle. Because books are to be read, and not collected to gather dust and mites.

The other good thing is that even though I am throwing them out because I no longer need them, they will find their way into the homes of others who do. ''Garbage'' is well sorted here in Estonia so no fish bones or shrimp shells will be mixed with the clothes. And there are those who make their living off the things that others discard.

And I found 2 fabulous pairs of my pre-preggy jeans that I had completely forgotten about!

And I no longer have to spend 2 hours deciding what to wear because I can SEE everything that I have. Its a lot less that I had before, but it is all stuff that I like to wear. No more chugging through piles of things that I don't like or that don't fit to find my favorites.

So liberating. So easy. So clean and neat.

Some of the jewelry is harder to part with though. A pretty jade pendant, a delicate gold bracelet and earrings, an onyx chain and earrings. Gifts from an old boyfriend that have less than pleasant memories attached. But no longer will they hold me in the past. I'm not throwing them in the bin, I'll find someone to give them to... after I cleanse them with sandalwood incense, and cut my ties.

And when we move into our new home next month, we will be moving with only the things we love.


P.S. If you wanna give the whole Feng Shui thing a try, try to get your hands on a copy of ''Feng Shui your Life'' by Jayme Barrett. Its an excellent introduction that will speak volumes to you about more than just where to put your couch... but she'll help you with that too!

This thing they call AP

Attachment Parenting. I discovered it when the Angel was a few days old, I think, or maybe it was while I was still pregnant. And it felt deep-down-in-the-soul-of-my-bones-right.

Suddenly there was a whole bunch of websites saying that I didn't have to worry about holding my baby too much, indeed it was better for her to be up with me than alone in a crib or play pen. And that it was OK and even best for her to sleep safely next to me for as long as she needed. And that I didn't have to leave her to cry at night to 'learn' to fall asleep; that my touch, taste and smell were the perfect source of comfort until she naturally developed that ability on her own. That I could breastfeed for however long she needed, whenever she needed, and yes, it is perfectly normal for that to be 20 times a day. That it was natural for me to feel it in my heart when she cried and that responding immediately, if not sooner, was not spoiling her, rather it was showing her that the world is a safe place, and that her feelings are important.

You mean I could listen to my instincts, my heart, my every mommy-fiber and enjoy my baby fully? And that it won't turn her into a clingy, spoilt, tantrum-throwing, monster-being?

What a relief! Thanks Dr. Sears and API :)

And what was even better... MILLIONS of people, for THOUSANDS of years were doing exactly what I knew was right. It was how we survived and evolved as a species.

The ''training'' approach it turns out has only been around for a much shorter time, and only in Westernized cultures. The same cultures that have Post Traumatic Stress, sleeping disorders and a plethora of other mental health problems. The same cultures that have high crime and murder rates, high suicide rates, high i-dont-need-anybody-and-cant-let-anybody-get-too-close rates, and too many lonely people with ''commitment issues''.

How? Who? When did we feel the need to train our children like puppies? Sometimes even harsher than we train our puppies! When did we begin to forget that our precious babies have the same emotions, feelings, rights and needs as us? They just come in a smaller package. A package that learns best in it's own time how to move, communicate, eat, sleep, and use the potty. A smaller package that needs us bigger and more dextrous packages to help until they learn to do it on their own. A fragile little package in a huge, new world, that trusts us big 'uns to protect them as they learn. To comfort them when things get scary. To respect them as full human beings, their needs, their emotions, their temporarily limited physical abilities. To treat them as good as we would treat our best friend.

I've heard / read so many people talk / write about teaching their little ones to be independent because it is what is best for them. And then I thought that if we were meant to be like that, we would have been born as adults. Babies would be born talking, walking, eating, leaping tall buildings. Who would need a mommy?? Maybe we would just be like amoebas and pouf! Then there were two.

But instead we are born tiny, soft, dependent, unable to move around for ourselves, knowing only the smell and voice of the warm body that was our entire world. Our cries of need, pain, loneliness, fear, hunger and thirst cause changes in our mothers' bodies compelling them to comfort and soothe us.

Then come the experts with books to sell convincing our mothers to ignore our cries. Brainwashing those we trust into believing that we don't need really them.

I'm not judging those who chose a different path in their parenting. I believe that most mothers do the best they can with the resources and information that they have available, and out of love for their children.

But I don't understand why the so-called experts persist in spreading their methods when for years it has been proved to harmful, damaging and negative. Maybe that's unfair to say. Even Dr. Ferber has changed his position on sleep training.

I'm no expert, but I am a Mama. My baby sometimes sleeps for long hours, sometimes not. And this is normal. When she wakes up, she wants me to be there. And this is normal. She sleeps best next to me. I feel safest with her there.

One day, when she is ready, she will no longer need me 24 hours a day. She won't want the comfort and nourishment of my breast, the warmth and security of my body next to hers at night, or my arms to carry her around.

And something tells me that I will miss her.

Sharing the love

So there I was, sitting at my dining table / desk, staring out the window at the night-lights of Tallinn... well those on my street anyway, and completely lost as to what to blog about. I mean, I started this because I had SO much to say and nobody to say it to, right? I have never been accused of being the silent type, so did I really have NOTHING to over-share with the the world? I had been in this slump for nearly a week now.

But then!! Dum da da DUUUMMMMM!!!

Bluebella to the rescue!!! A Wonder Woman hard-working mom to twin toddlers with a beautiful new baby on the way who, no matter what life throws at her, finds a way to love and laugh.

She awarded Moi, ahem, with this lovely Pink Rose award cuz she thinks I'm cool like that :)

Suddenly we had something to write about! I don't call 'em Me Muses for nuthin.

And because it is better to give than to receive, here is who I pass this award onto:
Nan who gave me the encouragement and inspiration I needed to start blogging.
My friend Nalini who doesn't blog, but who is my sister in this and who knows how many other lives.
Antique Mommy who always makes me feel warm and fuzzy.
Scary Mommy, a beautiful mama who really isn't scary at all.
All the bloggers at API who never fail to provide the support we all need as mamas.


*****

In this blogosphere we read and feel each other's joys and pains. When people can't hope for themselves, we try to have hope for them, even if we feel that all hope is lost on our own situations. No matter how we express it, what I think we feel but do not often say about hope is this: we hope will have the strength to live through whatever is handed to us, and that come what may, we will be alright.

How many pink roses do you know? How many times have you wanted to let them know that they are appreciated and that you find them and their words beautiful? How many times have you wanted to lift someone up and said a silent prayer that she or he would be able to heal? How many times have you felt a fellow blogger's isolation and wanted reach out to let them know they weren't alone? Here's your chance. Give the Pink Rose Award to those who inspire you or need to be inspired, to those who have encouraged you or those who need encouragement.

Here's what to do:
1. On your blog, copy and paste the award, these rules, a link back to the person who selected you, and a link to this post. You will find the story behind the Pink Rose Award and other graphics to choose from there.
2. Select as many award recipients as you would like, link to their blogs (if they have one), and explain why you have chosen them.
3. Let them know that you have selected them for an award by commenting on one of their posts.
4. If you are selected, pass it on by giving the Pink Rose Award to others.
5. If you find that someone you want to nominate has already been selected by someone else, you can still honor them by posting a comment on their award post stating your reasons for wishing to grant them the award.
6. You do not have to wait until someone nominates you to nominate someone else.

Coconuts and the I.R.A

That's my dad in our, well their, backyard cutting coconuts from our... I mean their coconut tree. He's not really in the IRA though. I think my uncle was, but that could have just been a story they told us.

But he did grow up in Nor'n Ireland seeing bombs go off next door. That's something a Trini like me will hopefully never understand. And if Russia decides to get pissy with Estonia again, I'm on the next plane out.

And I saw a coconut tree for sale in the mall! It was just a coconut that had sprouted in a bucket. All I could think of was ''Is that really going to fit in an apartment??'' Now, I'm wondering if it would survive winter. Cus it would be super cool to have a coconut tree in the yard of our new house. Cus now we have a yaaard daaahling. We would be the only people with that, I'm sure! And everybody would get freshly-picked, organic coconuts from their cool caribbean neighbour. And the kids could have coconut tree climbing competitions. hahahaha... I just had a mental picture of hubby trying to scale the tree with a cutlass (machete) in his teeth. hahahahaha. Maybe not such a good idea after all.

I really have nothing to write about, have you noticed?

Dry. I. Am. Dry.

Furniture shopping is harder than me thought. And 'SPENSIVE! Don't talk about planning a kitchen! With all the different drawers, and thingies, and whatchamacallits. Whew. Dizzzy. But fun :)

Feng Shui for luuuurve

This post is dedicated to those of you who are looking for love, think they found love, want more love, wanna keep the love flowing, and just love love :)

Now I'm no expert, this is just stuff that you could find yourself online. But since I googled it already, why should you have to do all that work!

So here we go:

The theme is Happy Couples. So we need to reflect this in your boudoir, even if you're not in a couple. You won't look like a psycho stalker, you will just be letting the universe (and any ahem, guests) know that you are open and receptive to luurve.

Pictures and artwork of happy pairs is good. It doesn't have to be cheesy and mushy. 2 flowers, 2 birds, 2 hands, 2 people who look like they are happy to be together. Single stuff probably won't help here, like 1 tree, or 1 man fishing. Apparently all that solo stuff sends out the signal that solitude is your thing.

Its a good idea to put this on the wall at the foot of your bed and just opposite your door, so you see it when you come in and when you're in bed.

Onto your bed! If its jammed with one side against the wall, you're gonna need to pull it out. Ideally, both sides should be equally accessible by you and your objet d'amour. Good quality, soft, natural fibre sheets are what you need. Cus who feels sexy on rough and scratchy sheets?? And keep it so that you are facing the door when you're lying down, but without your feet pointing out. Kinda obliquely opposite the door is what I think they mean. And your headboard should be against the wall too. Bedside tables, if you have them, should be on each side of the bed.

For the lighting, think soft and soothing. Toxin free, scented candles, dim lights. No glaring overhead lights, computer and TV screens. They said you can cover up the TV with a nice piece of fabric if you really don't want to get rid of it. But really, TV in the bedroom?? Kinda counter-productive to your aim, n'est ce pas?

Open your windows! Lots of fresh air is good, but make sure you close 'em up at night to keep the energy circling around and nourishing you.

Now for your colours. Think lots of skin, in its varying beautiful shades from pale to chocolate. A pop of red or pink here and there is sure to bring home the love. But you need to be careful with the red though. Apparently its a really powerful colour, and if it isn't used properly, can have some negative power. Sorry, I don't know more about that.



And cover up or move any mirrors reflecting your bed. Let's not have a 3rd party in the mix... unless that's your thing, of course.