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Had no time to make baby Barak a costume for halloween but this bat costume purchased from another mom for a measly $5 was a hit!
Mzee and I are holding up but I must admit that the addition of this little munchkin had changed the game.
Its amazing to me that such a little thing can have such a big impact.
Not being able to make him stop crying is the hardest. When he’s crying I feel like my heart is being ripped into pieces. When Mzee is not able to get him to stop crying in 2 mintues I feel like i’m dying. At the same time I know that its important to let Mzee take care of him and not be hovering all the time. Stepping in every time does communicate to Mzee that I don’t trust his ability to handle the baby. In my mind I know that.
But boy am I failing the test big time! I hear the baby crying, vumilia for about 2 minutes, then I can’t take it any more and I have to come in and intervene.
I’m worried that i’m contributing to a dynamic that is going to come back and bite me in the butt again latter where Mzee doesn’t know how or is not willing to deal with the crying baby anymore or the baby doesn’t know how to be comforted by his Dad.
Moms out there, was this ever an issue for you guys?
Also, in celebration of babies here is Nyota Ndogo and my next cd purchase as soon as I hit home.
A while back I blogged about how annoyed I was getting by Kenyans’ refusal to recognize that we have very little to claim for Obama’s success and that indeed we were acting like the deadbeat Dad who only returns many years later to claim credit for his son’s success.
I mean, how conveniently we forget that Obama’s Kenyan dad had the nerve to leave the boy at a tender age, and proceeded to start an entirely new family. We have been so quick to forget that Barack endured having to grow up without his biological father and that there are enough similar stories in the U.S. and in Kenya!
Indeed I think that even as we celebrate Obama’s impending victory (note I said even as, not instead of,) we should take the opportunity to think about how not only our country works as a deadbeat dad to all the brilliant minds and entrepreneurs out there who get screwed by the system and are never able to achieve their potential, but about all the literal deadbeat dads in the country. Oh yea, and deadbeat moms too. Because there are plenty of those as well.
Mona’s post reminded me of an unanswered question.
What will I ever tell little njugu karanga (peanut) if/when he asks me if I ever did drugs?
Truth is that I had quite a good time in college and the beginning of grad school. I limited myself to herbs (nothing powdery or that needed complex equipment like needles etc). So should I tell the truth and risk him thinking “well, she turned out alright so I will too”, or should I just plead the fifth and direct little njugu to his squeaky clean father who would actually be telling the truth when he say’s he never even touched alcohol until we started dating?
Paroz out there, will you fess up to your previous sins? Have you fessed up yet?