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..