REVIEW: Stokke Tripp Trapp Baby High Chair

My partner is a fan of Stokke's Tripp Trapp baby high-chair, to which he instantly fell in love with because of the design. I was in total agreement with him. The design is great, and the chairs are pratical, as your little one can join the family during meal-times right from birth. We chose to start ours at about 6-months, the average age when a baby gets stable and is able to sit-up by themself.

My only qualm is that, a baby that small doesn't know anything about security, therefore, an adult has to be around them whenever they are on the high-chairs. My baby us such an explorer and it's getting worse everyday as I have a feeling if we don't keep a watch, she might one day fall off the chair, as evidenced in the video. She is now 8-months old, I don't think at that age they have a notion on matters pertaining to security.

ESFP Portrait

As an ESFP, I'm always mis-understood, not that it bothers me. I love self-introspecting from time to time, just to check and confirm that I'm the same old me, and I find that apart from not allowing myself to take in some crap that I can easily avoid -a thing that I've been doing from the time I was conceived, I guess- then, I'm still the same old girl, the only difference's that I'm using an alter-ego.

I'm currently feeling like crap because of all this motherhood and 2-child policy that befell me, else, the rest, besides my piling up weight is perfect!

My girl was -what I'd consider as- bullied

Everytime I pick up my daughter from school, I have developed this habit of asking her how her day was, what they did, what she ate for lunch, whom played with, who was good at her, who was mean and so on. It has become a ritual, in that, nowadays, she'll be the first to indulge me even before I ask.

This past week, on Tuesday, she narrated how at the playground, one of her friends started teasing her on how she was dressed. The meanie ganged up the other kids who were laughing at my daughter, totally alienated her to the extent whereby they didn't want to play with her. So, she sat down on the bench and cried her heart out. I felt truly sorry for her and mad at the same time because I assumed she was strong enough to take anything anyone dares throw her way. That's when I realised that on this, she took her Papa's side -he cries when watching sad stuff, she cries too, whereas, I don't- wear my heart on the sleeves..

Anyways, I had -and still- do a long chat with her on bullying. I told her what her colleague did was not good and explained how she should react the next time she or any other person is confronted with such a situation. I also reminded her that nobody has got any right to decide how she was going to feel, she could wear a sack of potatoes if it pleases her without giving a damn about how another person was going to perceive her. My mum used to tell us that, we don't go to school to make friends, but to learn. I transmitted the same to my daughter. Of course, the BF is not in agreement with this view.

It is common practice to see kids as young as 3 years old go violent on the others. I've had to talk to her teacher on the matter severally, and finally decided that my daughter won't be turning the other cheek. As brutal as it may sound, I settled on, an eye for an eye, and since then, reports on violence towards her have drastically reduced.

The BF thinks that I'm exagerrating and that I should stop with my hawk-eyes tendency. He tells Peaches that I was traumatised as a kid and that's why I can't help being overtly protective; Funny as it may sound, I would rather it the way it was in my childhood. My dear Mama was the family investigator in her own level. She had her eyes and ears all over the country, depending on where her children were schooling. I can only copy her ways because that's what made us pan out successfully.

Besides, Peaches takes part in other activities besides her school ones, and I told her that's another way of socializing. 

As a parent, I took a silent oath to never sit back and watch any form of prejudice being thrown my children's ways, I am their guardian, their protector, I pledge my allegiance to them, if I don't veil on their well being, how will they develop trust in me as their mother, as their parent?

Of being overwhelmed and yelling

So now I'm back to yelling and not liking it! The bf says that it's good that I'm conscious of the vice, I say that being conscious is not enough as the damage is slowly creeping in. Peaches, as sweet as she is, is seriously taking the brunt of the damage the angelic demon a.k.a Berries is taking me through.

For instance, today, I gave Peaches 3 serious yells! The last yell made me go to the bathroom, look at myself in the mirror, and remind myself that it's totally NOT right!! I yell till my head hurts and only wine can cure it. That's the effect of being a STAHM with absolutely no help coming through. The first yell came through right after we got back home from school. I asked her to come and wash her hands before the evening snack, and she came dragging her chair, with a cushion and the fat Winnie Pooh on it. I yelled because I'm fed up of picking up after her. That was not even supposed to be a big deal since if I had asked her gently, (without yelling), she would have still taken them back. The second yell came during dinner, I had put Berries to sleep and came down to finish eating with her, as Paps was out of town, and there she was, still dilly-dallying with the food, trying to get out the garling eti coz she doesn't like it. The silly behaviour she picks up from other kids at the school canteen I felt terrible afterwards because I obliged her to eat up everything. I had to hurry back in the room because the baby was hysterical. So, I asked Peaches to finish up and head in her room and wait for me to come read her the usual bed-time stories. She instead headed straight to my room and woke up the baby anew, that, totally drove me into a frenzy!

I handle fatigue by going for a run, but now that I hurt the stupid knee, even walking is an issue. I think seeing the tummy bulging as if I was pregnant, and having none of my pants fit me is part of what drives me into a rage with every single petty - of what I consider - misdemeanor, on the part of Peaches, iven that I can't take it out on Berries.

I can't wait for January for Berries to start going to the creche, I'm headed there tomorrow first thing in the morning to ask when she can begin her orientation for full time care. I just can't handle it anymore! 

In the meantime, I have this noted somewhere at the back of my mind to control the yellings. Before, I could do Jumping Jacks everytime I felt the urge to yell. Now, I don't even know what to do. Counting from ten backwards doesn't even come close to help!

*sigh*

Failed friendship that never even picked!

I met this lady in September of this year, I'm even starting to doubt whether she didn't do it on purpose, that is, on the first day of extra-curricular activities, bringing her daughter in the same music class as mine, even though the class was strictly for beginners and her daughter was in her second year. Just before she left, she called me aside, gave me a sheet of paper with her address and phone number on it, because in her words, I look like a nice person and she would have loved if I joined her in her upcoming project(s). Since I didn't want to dissapoint, I gave her a call two weeks later and we met for tea. I extended the kindness and invited her over for teaat mines. She came in drinking some energy drink and instead asked for wine. That would have been the first warning sign, I chose to overlook it.

Last week she gave me a call inviting me over to her place because they were celebrating his son's in-law birthday. I made it clear that I was not in a position to go since I had guests over. She insisted I go even with my guests, I stressed that it was not going to be possible. She told me to think about it and drop her a message on my response. I completely forgot about her. It's not like I gave her the impression that I'm always short of invitations.

So last night as I went with my daughter and another neighbour's daughter trick or treating, I decided to stop at her's because she has children too. On coming to the door, the first thing I noticed was alcohol smell, she was clearly high, furious at me to the extent of not wanting to see me. I had to explain that I had a mishap with the fall I had during my run, and that I had explained it wasn't going to be possible to attend the improptu party etcetera.

She went on and on how dissapointed she was, how everyone was waiting for the mysterious overdue friend, how no matter what, next Saturday, Peaches should make it to her daughter's birthday, how I have to ensure that our daugthers become friends even if it takes moving the earth for it to happen. I was like, "are you kidding me? Our children are not at all obliged to be friends just because the parents are friends."

Her neighbour who was walking her daughter to trick and treat stopped to say hello, and as she was trying to explain to the little girl who was roughly 10 years old why according to her daughter she finds her weird, I bid her goodbye and we came back home.

I talked over the issue with the bf because I felt the matter needed his intervention. He was kind enough to tell me that the next time the lady accosts me, I should inform her that he is against her trying to impose herself in our family, period!

I've never had to apply pride in such a long time, but with this lady, I am left with no choice. I shall simply efface her like she's never existed as I await a new confrontation. I get tired thinking about her, I even had a terrible nightmare!

Losing weight and failing miserably!

In about a week's time, Berries turns 8 months. In between, I started exercising, was hospitalised, hence had to stop. Last Sunday, out of the blues, I put on my shoes and went for my usual run. It felt good, it felt like I was picking up from where I left. With autumn holidays just around the corner, I was so excited because the bf had taken some days off, and I had my pal coming over for a week. I was excited because I knew I was going to have my "ME" time. My long over-due ME time! So, on Thursday, I got up feeling bubbly as usual because I was going to go for my run without having to think about the baby.

35 minutes in the run, right in the middle of the woods, I realized that the old path has been diverted. I climb up the new path with squats and even before I had finished contemplating whether to run or walk, my body felt propulsed by some forces. My goodness, I totally lost control of my body, I went down that steep path with fear and panick, I didn't even have time to choose whether to fall or fall, I just dived on a pile of leaves narrowly escaping hitting the stem of a nearby tree. I FELL! I fell terribly and hurt my entire body. I don't think even when growing up I've ever had such a fall.

I was in major pain! I dragged myself up to a sitting position, my right knee felt wobbly, my left shoulder felt disconnected, but I still got up, picked up a stick and started walking out of the woods. I finally got to the roadside, and my mind was made up, I was walking home. Only to get in the wrong neighbourhood. A good samaritan lent me her phone, but the bf didn't pick the call. The only solution was to hitch-hike and this other lovely lady dropped me right off at out doorstep.

As I type this, I'm yet to see the doctor. I am totally anti-ER because they keep one for long hours before being tended to. My right knee is visibly swollen but I'm giving it until Monday.

All I'm hoping for is to get better and take another attempt at running. I can't believe my body is conspiring against my will to lose weight and maintain being fit!

In the meantime, I'm still the same old foodie.

Giving birth somewhere in Europe...

As my days wane by, I can't help thinking about all those women who have lost their infants at birth or the men who lost both infant and mother during delivery. Margaret Kenyatta is an opportunist, a productive opportunist since what she is doing now with the #beyondzero campaign, is something that she could have done even before the husband became influential. That does not mean I don't applaud her efforts, not that it's going to change anything. She is using her position as a First Lady to collect funds in order to put right what the government has failed to. Never mind that it is its duty to ensure that the health system is apt enough for the population.

I am scheduled for a Caesarian, and thinking about how medicalised even natural birth is in the West for damage contro,l and trying to compare that with what's taking place in Kenya just leaves a lot to be desired.

There's the doctor -the gynecologist without whom nothing much can take place. One has to be always present or on stand-by just incase.

A nurse does the bulk of the work. He/she executes the gynaes orders and is the one who is mostly present after the procedure has long been done. She'll make the follow-ups and updates the gynae who'll just come to check that everything's okey.

There's the midwife, who works under the nurse. The midwife will know everything about the patient. He/she reports to the nurse and the gynae. The midwife veils on the wellbeing of the mother. Asks whether there'll be help in the house, does the house-rounds upon return to ensure that everything is okey.

Then there's the puéricultrice, who takes duly care of the infant from birth, teaches you how to wash it, follows up on the first injections etcetera. Ensures that the feeding is going on well, that the baby has all that it needs etcetera.

Then there's auxiliaire de vie. This lady is there to maintain cleanliness of the patient. Changes the beddings, the pads, wipes the patient, etcetera.

Then there'll be the cleaning lady who ensures that the room is impeccably clean.

Last, I guess there's the one who serves meals. 

I don't have all the details as my first birth was planned to be natural and all over sudden we had to undergo a CS.

And just incase anything goes wrong and there's death (which is inevitable), there'll be conselling. Tonnes of counselling session! A couple is never left to their own devices as is the case in Kenya. And it is for this reason that #istandwithmamanjeri - You can click on the link to watch the video and get the concept.

https://youtu.be/6BXEEzu1KdU #istandwithmamanjeri

Reflections, Nostalgia and Changes...

Nostalgia is a good feeling, makes one reflect on what's going on around them. In my case, it doesn't make me wish for what I had in the past as I always choose to live in the present. It only makes me realize how much people do change, or even reveals other hidden characteristics that aren't really positive or motivating. It could be my personality or just who I am but I've always thought and noticed everyone or most people around me change as I try to remain the same until their influence runs on me and I fit into whom they've become. So I change too so just to fit in their context.

When I was single, i tried to keep in touch, mostly with family, my close-knit and even virtual friends. When I migrated, I continued to keep in touch. When I met the bf and got into a relationship, I continued to keep in touch. When I got my first child, I still continued to keep in touch. I wasn't struggling, I just felt it was important, limit imperative to! I called, I sent postcards, we created home-made cards with the daughter and sent them, I sent money, I was all over the place because that's how I felt things were supposed to be done. So recently, a few months ago, during one of my reflection moments, I decided to stop. I won't get into details under what circumstances, but I just decided to stop! 

And then you realize that wow, no one really bothers! No calls, no texts, no goodwill messages. Not that I was expecting that in return, but I just realized that things were not balanced. So I decided to stop! Stop giving handouts, stop sending those post and home-made cards, stopped calling, stopped sending messages apart from on a need to basis. In short, i just stopped giving a damn.

I still send post-cards and make cards with my daughter to send to those pals and family members who remember to replicate. Fortunately such kind of people do exist! The kind of people who choose to have a life besides social media. That person who will still call to wish you a happy birthday without a reminder from FB. That person who even shocks you by remembering your daughter's birthday and either sends a card or call. That person who'll just stop by to say hello just for the heck of it. 

I guess when we have our own families, the rest can easily be classed as "by-the-way" in this case not by choice but by consciousness to.

2nd child dilemma and anxiety...

With Peaches, it was really easy coming up with a name but Berries has given us such a hard time but by last night, that is 5 days shy of her being delivered is when we came up with one. We've decided to keep it a secret until she's born plus it has absolutely nothing to do with berries. It's a French name that rhymes with framboise - raspberry in English - but neither of those tickled my fancy as a nickname hence, Berries. One can never imagine how difficult naming a baby is! I've been late with everything on this pregnancy, (as is the case in my daily life)... I'm never in a rush until when I'm running late. But as I type this, Berries' stuff are packed and the MIL, upon my request came over yesterday to help me arrange the drawers. I'll see whether I have any energy in my reserve to sort out and pack my stuff tonight.

I told the BF I was not going to spend more than 100€ buying new "gagdets" for the baby only to dispose them off after 6 months and therefore settled for second hand. I checked out all that I needed online, got the numbers of the sellers but then proceeded to the second hand store before making the calls. I got the car seat for 5€, moved to the next shop where I managed to bargain the baby carrier that will act as her bed to 15€ given that some parts were broken and I figured we can improvise how to fix that. The changing table came down from 54€ to 30€ with a promise to take it back and get 15€ for it at the end of its use; I also took for 1€ some support that'll use when she'll be able to go in the bathtub with her big sister and a mattress for 9€ to place on the changing table. On the overall, I was quiet pleased with my day. At the counter as I was really bargaining, this pink lady tells the shop-owner that at least she is not like me, in the sense of squeezing the euros! I hushened her up by telling her that her budget was not the same as mine so she should just quit with the comparisons.

I've had people I know stop over to check on me before the D-day and I ashamadely had a small drink once. Then I found myself texting the bf asking him to get me non-alcoholic beer. It started with one bottle and when the second one made me feel a little bit tipsy, I had to stop and totally restrain myself from continuing. The following day got me depressed and I figured the only way out will be a beer. By the third day, I just had to stop as my conscious couldn't let me curve after restraining myself for the past million weeks or so!! I must admit that I really tried keeping it clean with the foods and the drinks.

I guess Peaches is resigned to the fact that it's not a baby boy but she ain't admitting either that it's a baby girl, she just says "Ohhhh, I can't wait for the baby to be born" and she tells the baby secrets every night! She is hyper clingy to Mama, I totally understand and I just hope the transition passes on without any hitches. I surprised myself because I stopped yelling and became really good maybe Berries helped me with that :-)

Well, I check in at the hospital on Tuesday and have the CS done on Wednesday morning. The BF is still deliberating and mustering the courage as to whether he'll have the grace to go through the whole procedure as I officially sent him an invitation to be there. I swear I can't wait for all this to be over! It feels like 9 years of pregnancy. 9 months have never felt this long!