X.....Student Becomes the Teacher

Maleeza Orilonise: Mum/Writer

Maleeza Orilonise: Mum/Writer

5pm on  a school night, priding myself on the military precision of the stages of the "witching hours", play, home work, supper, bath...Stirring the steaming pot of culinary delights with one hand as I multi tasked the challenging first world problem of a low battery and  checked my phone with the other. I was alerted to the fact I could no longer hear my rambunctious Kindergartener playing next door in the living room. Wooden spoon intact, phone in the other hand with a maternal intensity of which only mothers are privy, I yanked
open the pocket door to the living room...As I strutted purposeful across the room my internal alarm commanded me to stop after my fifth step.
I witnessed an indelible Polaroid of my 5 year old son.
Ashamed, so engrossed in  judgement of what I had automatically deemed a negative deed transpired into an intrusion of my physical being.  My son and his grandmother were laying on the floor,  oblivious of my presence. Submerged in a magical interaction of such magnitude torrents of hot salty tears cascaded over  my cheeks.I silently raised my phone and captured the moment with a candid image.
I could have heard a penny drop.  
The mischievous  silence was deafening.  
Compelled bymy curiosity to explore I entered stealth mode...
A matriarch swaddled in traditional Yoruba cloth, identified by tribal scars.
Silhouettes...mirroring her teachers posture.
Rampant arthritis commanding her fingers to defiantly concave around a pencil.
Witness to the ilk of a clandestine affair. A visual revelation, they were engrossed. I was an intruder, the realization ensuring  I immediately commence my silent retreat  backwards.
I was never there.
Betraying a confidence, not my forte. However how could I refrain from not sharing this intimate revelation?
Seemingly selfish to retain.
I feel a compelling urge to share with the world...
Everyday I will teach you a new letter and this weekend I will teach you how to draw.
The pupil had become the tutor.
Tobias a Kindergartener was teaching his 80 year old grandmother an illiterate who had  begged to attend school 75 years ago in a remote village Mushini Abuja, Nigeria.
Tobias was teaching his grandmother to write her name as opposed to her customary X for the first time in her 80 years,
Bushiratu Orilonise wrote her name.

Namastay...In Bed

Namast'Ay In Bed top by http://www.shoppinkblush.com

Namast'Ay In Bed top by http://www.shoppinkblush.com

Its 2:00 a.m. and I'm in bed pumping my left breast, which has a clogged milk duct...Needless to say, THIS week was one for the books..Life was as real as the struggle, involving countless conversations centering around obtaining balance. In one of these conversations, a good friend gifted me with an "aha" moment...She said, "Balance is not what you want..Balance is complicated...Think Harmony..Thats what you want."  

My friend went on to explain via a visual regarding Balance. Visualize juggling plates or dishes while "balancing" on one foot and patting your belly...That's balance..Balancing is uncomfortable to say the least. Harmony on the other hand, one should visualize an orchestra, where there are moments of quiet and moments of intensity..There are moments when key instruments are asked to turn down or lay out and others are intensified...All of these musical calls are imperative to creating harmony. As a musician AND a wife of a musician, I could easily grasp this idea..Create harmony...NOT balance..

Creating harmony between being a new mom to a second human, AND maintaining all of my previous post babe responsibilities, can be at times challenging to say the least... I find myself asking a question that I hear so very often from a lot of creative/working moms.."How do I maintain harmony between self preservation and keeping the outside world happy? How do I take care of myself, without neglecting, ignoring, or giving the finger to everyone else? To be honest, I am still pondering this question..Perhaps it begins with, as I mentioned in the previous blog post, giving ourselves permission... or unlearning the idea that taking care of self, is somehow SELFish. Either way, I am still figuring it out...I will let you know if/when I receive the answer..For the time being, I am going to continue to pump my left breast in hopes that this plugged milk duct will dislodge and the world will continue to spin as usual..How are you creating harmony? I would love to hear..

On a totally different, yet related note..I am happy to announce #NotSoPrivateParts' collaboration with the apparel company, PinkBlush. Initially maternity focused, PinkBlush has now expanded and provides stylish yet affordable apparel for ALL women (Preggo or Not).. You can find this amazing "Namast'Ay In Bed" shirt that I am wearing here: http://www.shoppinkblush.com . This super cozy and soft shirt is the perfect thing to throw on during/after a much needed yoga session or with some relaxed denim for the perfect Saturday. This brand also has super fast shipping, which is always a plus. In addition, this shirt served as a gentle reminder for this week, that WE are ALL important and that Self Care is imperative..

 

 

MUTHA

Motherhood... I feel is a constant eb and flow between questioning if you are doing it "right" and not scarring your child... a consistent balance of giving, but yet taking time to breathe in your own air. With that being said, I love breastfeeding. However, there are moments when I feel exhausted from nursing and dare I say it... OVER TOUCHED.  And like most, I feel as if PEOPLE should know when I am feeling overwhelmed. And THEY should just know when I feel spent and literally drained. They should use their mind reading powers to know that a burrito and an air hug is the only affection that I can handle at times, because I may be touched out!!!  However, truth is... no one will ALWAYS know these things. As much as I can say that my husband, children, or my friends know me, they certainly are not mind readers. I'll even venture to say that ever so often family, friends, loved ones may know that you are at your limits and still ask of you. They are human with human moments and human needs as well. So where does that leave us. Where does that leave us when we are burned out, sleep deprived, and our mental and emotional state is teetering between Rosie the Riveter and a complete hot crazy mess? We give ourselves permission.  We give ourselves permission to say no, not right now; or that doesn't work for me at the moment. We give ourselves permission to voice our innermost feelings of "Hey, I love you. But I need a moment. I feel touched out". We give ourselves permission, because the world keeps turning. People keep needing... and sometimes, YOU are the only one who is going to stop and think about YOU. It is what it is. Remember to recharge today. Turn on 'your' oxygen tank... BREATHE your own air... Preserve Self.

 

Postpartum Hair Snapback (a.k.a. Hair Hymen)

Samantha Brown. Mom of three kiddos/ Wife/ Actor/ Writer/ Speaker.  Follow via Instagram @sambrownsugar

Samantha Brown. Mom of three kiddos/ Wife/ Actor/ Writer/ Speaker.  Follow via Instagram @sambrownsugar

Six years ago, I was pregnant with my first child. My hair was PERFECTION! The coils were curling just right, so much so, that I would tend to forget that I am NOT of mixed ethnicity! Seriously... my curly, twist out hair looked like a wig. It was full, shining, long, even, bouncy and beautiful! Then, I birthed my son. That's when I pretty much fell off with the constant hair care that black women un-naturally go through to achieve the "natural" look. Before you know it, I looked like a frizzy fro-ed monk! I had dry tumbleweed looking hair, with a bald spot in the center of my head. My previous go to hair products were NOT working!  I eventually figured out that with every pregnancy, miscarriage and postpartum experience, my hair went through something tragic! Tragic like a car accident. Seriously, I would look somewhat groomed and then BOOM, my hair looked like it got up off my head and got hit by a Mack truck... not me, JUST MY HAIR!!


In regards to postpartum, people rarely if ever discuss HAIR... on your head...OR your nether regions (but I will save the latter of the two for a different day.),  For some reason, after having a baby, the conversation about the "snap back," is usually, if not always, referring to your body in terms of weight loss, energy boost, firmness/muscle tone... but not hair.  Just as my daughter is now turning 10 months, my hair is finally doing the "SNAPBACK"!  I have once again found a new product that works for me. Plus, now that baby girl is getting a little older, I now have a half a minute more to actually properly twist my hair. In addition, I actually once again have somewhat of a desire to go someplace other than my bed to get some much needed sleep!

Be encouraged new mommies, when time allows it, you will begin to see your better self again. Give yourself time to recover.  A whole person was formed in you, and came out of you...There's gonna be some repercussions. But I'm here to let you know, when you get that natural spring coil back,  it's like somebody gave you back your hymen! Yes... a hair hymen!