My Juvenile Muse: What you celebrate, appreciates !!

ChooChoo is one today! Yay!!! It’s been a roller coaster ride since Feb 22^nd, 2010.

I can remember that day. He came out at 5.00pm after I had been in labour since 11.00pm the night before. Yeah, this labour thing is not really well defined. I had started contracting at 11p.m and it slowly became worse till about 9a.m the next morning when I was confined. And we huffed and puffed our way through till 5.00pm.

Of course, you know that process that I’ve just abridged into three sentences was not a funny something. But, we thank the Lord, we are here today.

This child has been different in many ways.  He chose of his own free will to stop breast feeding at 3 months, began eating cereals and solids at 4 months, and  as at today chews chicken like a boss, eats pounded yam, Golden morn and Quaker oats with the voraciousness of a three year old.

This past one year, since he stopped sleeping in a bassinet at 4 months, we have never slept apart save one night when he went to the in laws.

During this year, since I had him, I have begun writing, prepared the groundwork for my business, started my post graduate and generally grown up. I have also cried a lot, been depressed a lot but I think I have become a WOMAN since having him. Refer to post HERE

Some people may think, "Why is this girl so excited about this her baby, what's so special about him sef?!

My answer is , "the extent to which you celebrate and value what is in your life, the more bigger than life it becomes! So, this child that seems like , duh, there are millions being born everyday, so kini big deal, me, I think he is very special and different from them all *shrugs shoulders and says sue me*

Today has been going well, btw, my sisters went to the day care to mark the birthday with a yummy cake from Cakes and creams and some drinks ( Their cake is heavenly )  They took pictures and all but I heard Choo was banging his head on the ground and refusing to stand still; he did remember though to smear the cake all over his face..

We are having the main bash on Saturday and I didn’t want to do anything big, but I’m already thinking along the lines of Bouncy castle....God help me!

I love my life. I love my son! I love my Lord and  I’m grateful for today for keeping my Juvenile muse and friend.



Should it be BLOOD for BLOOD?

I love ChooChoo so much. I love him because he is my seed and the fruit of my womb. I would still love him if he belonged to someone else, but you see this LOVE I have for him is different: he is my SON.

By the power of God, I would train to fear and love God. I hope and pray that he would appropriate the training and grow up in fact to love and fear God. It would make me very happy.

I hope he never kills anyone, whether the person asked for it through their actions or not.

A young boy in Pennsylvania has been convicted of the murder of his father’s pregnant fiancée who he shot through the back of her head when she was sleeping. He has been in court recently appealing the decision of the US courts to try him as an adult which could land him a life sentence without the opportunity of parole.

Human Rights Groups including Amnesty and the Sentencing Project have decried the decision of the courts and are actively fighting it.

The decision has divided two parents; the parent of the boy killer and the parent of the killed fiancée. The boy’s father is protesting his innocence and says he has no idea what could await him.

"Try to explain to a 12-year-old what the rest of your life means. It's incomprehensible for him, he was quoted as saying in an interview with ABC last year.

The deceased mother on the other hand, understandably distraught about the gruesome murder of her 'baby' and grand baby is pushing for maximum sentence for the boy.

"I can't stand this 'Oh, he's 11,' 'Oh, his clothes don't fit him,'"she told the Pittsburg Review soon after her daughter's death. "He knew what he was doing. He killed my baby."

I READ this whole thing with a lot of heaviness in my heart and pondered on what could have pushed an 11 year old to pump a bullet/bullets in someone’s head. 

Could he have felt threatened by his father’s fiancée. Could he have hated the way his father’s attention was turned away from him?  

Now: the main bone of contention. Should he be tried as an adult? Is the deceased’s mother a DEVIL for pushing for that? Who is the real devil here? 
 

The final questions; Should it be BLOOD for BLOOD? Is a parent justified in demanding justice for the death of her own? Is another parent selfish in seeking to preserve his child’s life after another’s has been lost and that at the hand of his child?

Questions, questions, questions!

Let’s discuss, people. It’s time to remind ourselves of what we already know and file it away appropriately in our minds for use when occasions demand. But I reject, “ChooChoo, when you grow up, you would not kill anybody in the mighty name of JESUS!

Photo credits: http://www.guardian.co.uk/

ChooChoo goes to school

The nanny went home to the East for the Christmas break and so I made a decision. Choo Choo would start school. The school is an American style affair with lots of colourful toys that my eyes didn’t have the privilege of seeing in my own diaper  napkin days. I like the place. His head proprietor is sweet; and I do like the ring of the ‘fone’. 


He loves the place. After the initial banshee screaming affair, he releases himself into the arms of the care giver and is off to play. This particular type of play is the advanced type. The one the house couldn’t afford him. Gadgets, teddy bears, building blocks, miniature hammocks; it bears an akin resemblance to Disney Land. I am happy. My son is busy. Yesterday, school was so stressful that he slept early. It is good. People should be busy.

Yesterday, I couldn’t find his exercise book. I panicked. What kind of mother does that? The book is an assessment report meant to be viewed by the parents and returned daily. I soon saw it. A part of it was chewed. But, they have to understand; this particular student still chews things.

My juvenile muse: Are you really going to leave?

I represent something to ChooChoo- belonging, security, strenght, solace, everything that speaks of a never dry fountain of love; reminding him of my breasts where he sucked at ( although he stopped far too early)


I was leaving for work today, and I tried to sneak out without saying anything to him. Sometimes his nanny carries him and escorts me out of the gate while I wave at him, my heart tugging as I behold his big teary eyes.
But this day, I felt I could do without the drama, and I tried to leave, but I under estimated him and his errr....acute awareness of his mommy's activities. I think he smelt my perfume and looked up just in time and the scream was ear piercing. I looked back and I was hooked. I can't just walk away, can I? This is after all the person that filled me up, cell by cell, round and round my middle until I was turgid like a satchet of 'Pure water'!


I went back to him and carried him up and I kissed him. He stopped screaming and laid his head on my shoulder. I meant to do this for about a minute, but we were still there after three. I tried to hand him over to the nanny, but he wouldn't just let go. He held on to my shirt with his tiny fists and just wouldn't let go.
'Tiny' must give you an impression of tiny strenght but I can assure this was far from the case. The grip was strong and manly and all that could be done was to force my fingers in and pry his open, but even that took a while. When I eventually succeeded and picked up my bag to go, I looked back to him and I saw his eyes. It said 'Are you really going to leave?'


And this my friends is the image that stayed with me throughout the day..


My heart is breaking in smithereens ... Juvenile muse...I'll be back soon...

DEFY ALL ODDS

In the sitting room, there is a seven seater settee. In between two three seaters, there is a twenty centimetre gap. It leads out to the kitchen, the restroom, and other parts of the house. I do not like him to go there because there are many dangers out there. Okonkwo, the rat, may be passing by, a knife may be lying on the kitchen floor, and the bathroom floor may be slippery. So anytime he tries to pass, I snatch him up and drag him away. 


And there's that scream again. Yes, that one! But I ignore it. I feel the scream would be much louder if Okonkwo chews his feet or if he slips and falls in the bathroom. So, ChooChoo, your screams don't work no more :) As soon as I take my eyes away, he's back there, trying to pass. Then the Eureka moment comes! I can block that space with something, I say.  Yes, a big piece of something. Maybe, a throw pillow... Yes, I'm a genius. ChooChoo will never be able to pass. I do just that and he looks at the whole contraption with dismay, but I with glee. All's well with this part of the world. 


I'm back to reading my novel, and then minutes after I hear some scraping in the kitchen. "Yikes! Okonkwo again! Wait! Where's ChooChoo?" 
"Mfon, where's ChooChoo? I ask. What's that noise in the kitchen? "
Mfon comes back with ChooChoo in hand. "It was ChooChoo making that noise in the kitchen, scraping a breadknife on the ground", she replies.


Me? Outwitted by a crawlie? I look to see what became of the contraption. Nothing became of it. It was still there. So, how? I look back at ChooChoo and he wears the 'grin'. Yeah, you know the grin. It's a 'I'm a boss' grin. I look away and search furtively for the route of escape and I see it. 


The pillow is not quite the way it was before; it seemed squashed, and it is then obvious that my juvenile muse has showed me again why he is the boss. He squeezed past, flattening himself against the side hollow of the couch!


And this my friends is the lesson- DEFY ALL ODDS. 

HOW NOT TO BE A RAT IN MY HOUSE

There are so many ways to be a rat in my house and I know  you know them already, since you have settled down quite nicely.In your greed,just like Lot,when Abraham lovingly offered him the land on the left or the right,you have chosen the juicier(land flowing with milk and honey part)....but in your case Cerelac and Danish Cookies parts of the land.

But just like Abraham,I am loving,and I have decided to tell you a few things on how not to be a rat in my house.Because I have given up struggling within myself as to whether you belong here or not.I’ve tried severally...remember those days when we waged war....seven days and seven nights...I kept vigil....I shudder to think...

I’ve decided to call a truce....you stay on your own and I’ll stay on my own...agreed...I think I hear you say ..."Thank God". Indeed he is your God,because he made all things...and he said "It is good."*smh*

So,listen carefully so that we may live in peace henceforth...

As a rat in my house,

• You may not come out in plain view when I am watching Naija Sings in the evening with my family—I’m inclined to compare the voices of the contestants with your sounds and, I don't like to be mean that way...and definitely do not come out when I’m writing or typing—it distorts my imagination and I end up writing things like I’m writing now.
• You may not eat of the (tree of knowledge of good and evil)...things like ChooChoo’s Cerelac,my Agege bread, the Danish Cookies meant for visitors and of course Old Yam(you may eat New Yam).
• You will not (ever)stop and say hello, when you see Choo Choo crawling on the floor.He is minding his business,please mind yours! He may be tempted to pick you up by your tail and fling you up over his head (Your innards may splatter in all directions and I cannot clean up such a mess).ChooChoo is not your contemporary; he may look just a little bigger than you,but he is not in your league.Please understand.And of course,if he is the first one to say hello,do not answer.
• You will not chew ChooChoo’s feet,no matter how tempted you are.I chew his feet occasionally ,and yeah he simpers in delight,but please don't try to copy me; you may not know where to draw the line.There are so many things for you to chew all over the house.Have you noticed the old pile of newspapers under the kitchen cupboard?Yes,that one....I put it out for you.It's not very nutritious? Well,pity that!
• You may not hold clan meetings in my room when I’m asleep.That point where you go”Orato Kwenu” and your comrades reply “Yaa”, grates on my nerves so bad,I just want to........., and by the way ChooChoo sits up in his cot and looks around in pleasant bewilderment ,like he is wondering where you've been.I cannot rouse myself from my sweet slumber to pat him back to sleep...There is work at 8.00am.
• You may not pass through the door when I'm passing.Please show some respect.I am afterall your benefactor.(Do I hear you smirk?)*smh*
• You will not come out in full view of visitors.They may not understand.Screwing up their noses in feigned disgust,as if they do not harbour your relatives in their houses,they want me to believe they do not even know what you’re called. Spare me the embarrassment of trying to explain your presence,will you? And as long as the visitors are still here,tell your kids to stop their squibbling!
• You may not hold kitchen parties when I’m out,incase I come back with a visitor.
• Do not ever (ever) try and die in a hidden place.

I,as you know,will never try and kill you on purpose,but once in a while I have these overzealous househelps who claim to know just the trick to annihilate your race permanently,and in your hurt and feeling of betrayal,you send one of your lowly servants to die at the back of the cupboard behind the freezer.

I see through that particular line of action, the aim being to let us search and search for the source of such putrid smell,while all the while wearing gas masks-- even ChooChoo.
I know you feel betrayed,but it is not my fault,how do I tell the maid not to bother,that we have a pact,an agreement,you and me,without risking an awkward sidelong glance(This Madam don dey crase!)
By the way,I admire your calculated intelligence; you send a dispensable servant to die,while you the dons,the king-pins, the bigs boys, roll over in ectasy,(the ectasy of the act guaranteed to produce offspring in lieu of your dispensable servant.)
My name is Berry.Yours?
"Okonkwo"
"Ah,I see..."


If you don’t do these things,Okonkwo,we’ll be just fine and I’ll reject the next maid who seems to have that (I know just the thing to do to rats) gleam in her eyes!

Love always,
Berry FeistyPen.


Tut!Tut!...and since we'll be bumping into each other now and again,it'll make sense if we were on first name basis.