Hello, Morning!

(Greet The Morning by phatpuppy)


Yep, I'm definitely a morning person.The morning is my favorite time of the day. On sunny mornings, the sky is so blue; the little puffy clouds look so soft and fluffy up there; the leaves reflect the sun and the flowers in their vibrant colours make me want to twirl around in a colourful girly dress with arms wide open and chirp like a bird. Since I'm mostly on the bus heading to work at this time of day, I don't do this, so i resort to taking a deep lungfull of the lovely morning air and giving a big smile to everyone (except late bus drivers. Refer to an earlier post to get my view on late bus drivers). Yeah! its a beautifuuuuuuuuul day.

(Don`t you ever get grey overcast days? by Johh Frisch)

I also love overcast mornings when it looks like it's going to storm. I imagine the sun trying so hard to peek through the big dark clouds (like Izabelle trying hard to see the TV when I've deliberately blocked her view). I can almost hear the clouds going, "geez sun, what is it with you? you've been at our backs all morning" and the sun going, "if only you'd just let me peek through, just a tiny little bit so I can see what's happening down there, I'd quit bothering you so much". I like to think that when the clouds give in is when you see rays of sunlight peeping through the cracks in the clouds on an overcast morn. :)

(rainy day by whatafriarlife.blogspot.com)

Oooh, I love rainy mornings too. I try to take my extra large umbrella so i can enjoy the rain, otherwise, the worry of getting drenched will spoil the day for me.
Have you ever listened to Enya's song "it's in the rain"? Brilliant for such days.
Anyway, I love the rain because it makes me feel like curling up on the sofa with a cuppa and a good cartoon or Dr Seuss movie (oh delight!). Although, I usually can't indulge on workdays, the feeling usually suffices and I hope for rain on the weekend. (sorry shopping addicts)
Oh, there are lots more I love about the mornings...

(A new leaf by Catalog of Visual Interestingness)

The morning is a new leaf with new opportunities...its just as exciting as when you're in the middle of your favorite novel and turning a new leaf to the next page is even more appealing than a cone of ice cream (the middle is usually fantastic because you've past the beginning where there wasn't much action and you're not at the end where it's all about to end...you're just at the perfect bit!). We all apply the "new leaf" concept to serious things in life like our careers, relationships, etc, but stop for a minute and think about all the frivolous but nonetheless important things that we can apply this concept to: every morning presents a new opportunity to explore new make-up...after all, its not the usual custom to change your eyeshadow from green to black around 11.00am in your office bathroom, is it? No! You've gotta wait for the next morning, right? Also, when you've just purchased new items for your wardrobe, you've got a couple of exciting mornings ahead to mix and match outfits because you can't wear it all at once.

Yeah yeah, i know the last couple of lines sound shallow but come on, most of us girls (and dare I mention guys?) consider such things, so I just had to put it out there.
When I've got something so incredibly exciting planned that has had me counting the number of sleeps till the day, imagine the tingle of excitement and anticipation that peaks on the night before the morning of the D Day? OHHH, its enough to light all the light bulbs in the world for 61 seconds. I find that I can hardly sleep through the night and in the event that I wake up to go to the bathroom, it's almost 100% likely that I won't be able to go back to sleep.

(Excitement by nataliedee.com)

Oh my gosh, I can remember the morning of our wedding...oh, how insanely thrilling...I couldn't believe that the day I would wed my beau and live happily ever after had finally arrived...oh the dreams...oh the possibilities...oh my, oh me, oh my! (bunnytown, 2009). It wasn't quite the same though on the morning I had Izabelle. Perhaps this was because I was in ACTIVE Labour? hmmm....Maybe hubby was incredulously excited for me, seeing as I was certainly too 'busy' to be actively excited.

Mornings in a new country are usually a-m-a-z-i-n-g. I normally can't wait to get out and experience the life there. Do they hang out at cafes in the morning? Are the streets full of crowds of workers finding their way to work? How early do the markets open? What is the main occupation? Will there be more people going to an office job or heading to the mines or farm? Whatever the case, mornings will always feel different in different countries.

(Saturday Morning by Monica S Carnesi)

My 'bestest' mornings are Saturday and Holiday mornings. I wake up in a gooey happy mood with a song in my head (but then I always wake up with a song in my head and on workdays, i play the song on my ipod on my way to work)...ok, so on weekends and holidays i wake up with a song in my head and then lie awake trying to remember why I'm happy...hmmm.........nope, I'm not getting married today, I'm already married....hmmm....nope, we are not buying a new house........hmmm....is something interesting going to happen at work today? WORK! That's it! It's the "no-work day today". Woooooooooooooooooo
This is the point where I jump out of bed --> GooooOOOD MornnnNNING, Morning!

Living with the Intruder

If you're like me then this has happened to you.

You were looking at a baby (yours or someone else's) and the memories of when You were a baby came rushing back. Suddenly you could remember the first day your parents brought you home from hospital and how you looked the entire house over and wondered if this was the house you'd have to live in for the next 15 years! Then you remembered how livid you were when your mom tried to introduce formula...what was wrong with breastmilk...you didn't remember complaining about it. And it felt just like yesterday that your mom snatched the weekend newspaper from you...why did she do that? Afterall, you were only trying to be like Dad, who was reading it a few moments ago and she didn't snatch it from him.
The most persistent memory though was the fact that everyone seemed to want to stop you......when you tried to come up close to the TV just so you could touch Pooh bear - NO! COME AWAY FROM THERE....when you decided to keep crawling even though you were at the edge of the bed - NO! STOP BABY!.... when you saw some exciting insect specimen on the carpet and decided to orally explore it - PUT IT DOWN, NOW! One too many STOPS! naturally began to make you a little bit apprehensive...you couldn't wait to grow up and stop being a baby that got carried around all the time to places you didn't really want to go...like the doctor's clinic for those immunisation shots. You were pretty sure that when you grew up you would be free to do whatever you wanted to do. You could get as close to the tv as you wanted, and you could read the weekend newspaper (or shred it if you so wished).

Well, I did grow up, albeit in stages. Different stages of growth came with varying amounts of freedom as well as restrictions. The great thing about being 3 years old is that you no longer need to sleep in the cot so you don't have to keep trying to climb over the bars. The not so great thing about being 3 years old is that you most likely have been introduced to the Intruder.

'Intruder: someone who is present where he/she is not welcome'.

When I was a baby, I was innocent (some of you might find this fact hard to believe, but its true) and I was full of trust. I trusted my parents and I trusted the world. This was why I would let anyone carry me; I would eat anything from anyone; I would smile at anybody; I believed everyone liked me (I was a baby, I was cute, I was cuddly. who wouldn't like me?); I used to try and hold big dogs by their ears; I wasn't afraid of anything. By the time I was 3, I had learned not to talk to strangers; not to eat anything from just anybody; to tell Mum if someone touched me in a way that made me feel uncomfortable; that some people didn't like me for some reason; that I couldn't cross the road without an Adult because I could get killed...I had been introduced to the Intruder - Fear.

Age 5 - I was in Kindergarten and I hated the ordeal of having my Mom or anyone else comb my hair. When I combined this attitude with managing to get lice, it was the last straw for my Mom, so she cut my hair. Monday morning I was driven to school and it was the worst day ever. Some bullies in my class gathered around me and sang horrid songs and I began to fear school. School meant bullies. They were monsters that came to school everyday and made life miserable for you. I considered ending my education at that point but my parents had other ideas.

Age 15 caught up with me in high school. Most girls were trying to be noticed by the boys. If you didn't dress a certain way, you were destined not to have a boyfriend and this meant you were uncool. Needless to say, my Mom made sure that my skirt was always way below the knees, so I didn't have a short enough skirt to be cool...and I didn't have a boyfriend in highschool. I got introduced to the fear of what my peers thought.

Age 19 saw me at Uni. I had reached a point in life where I was not living at home and I was quite shocked to suddenly discover that I now had to make choices. Bad choices could even lead to the end of my life (or at least life as i knew it back then). I always heard of people who had made a bad choice and gone off with a guy they didn't really know and were never seen again...or people who got infected with HIV...or people who got kicked out of Uni...or people who got into gangs and got shot. It was all overwhelming...there was just a lot to fear and there were no parents to protect me. I felt like my life was now up to me and I had no one to blame if I took the wrong turn. Good friends and a doting boyfriend helped. Oh, and my parents had friends who seemed to be at every nook and cranny of the Uni and who I could count on to tell them if I had been seen doing what I wasn't supposed to be doing. They made me worry a lot actually.

Age 23 turned up and I had finished Uni. Yay. At this point, even though I knew there were bad things happening all around the world, none had happened to me up till then and this was a good sign. There was nothing in the world to be afraid of....but then I went and had a car crash. I was traveling on a National assignment and the driver lost control of his vehicle. I was sitting in front and I can't remember much of the crash except that I lost a few teeth, had a deep cut on my knee, couldn't walk or talk for weeks, and sustained minor bruises to my spinal discs. Great! I was not transferred to a location that would not involve traveling so I had to deal with this new found fear of traveling (mostly for 6 or 7 hrs at a stretch) to this post for the period of 12 months that I was on duty.
Till date, I can't really sleep when someone is driving me and I have not gotten my license yet. I have to fight the Intruder to be able to do these things.

When Age 24 came by, I had finished my 12 month posting and I had just come back from one last (safe) road trip. I did not need to do any more road travels. I only had to hop on a plane to Brisbane in about 2 weeks and there was nothing to fear. Air travel is one of the safest means of travel. Then the Belview airline crashed. OMG talk about bad timing. CNN decided to air a time-line of all the plane crashes that have ever happened in the world...and I became pretty worried about spending about 25 hours on a plane from Abuja to Brisbane. I can still feel the butterflies in my tummy. I stopped watching CNN and switched to Cartoon network. I hopped on the plane to Lagos enroute to Brisbane and when I got on my Emirates flight, I looked at the screen and noted that one of the Planes that left Abuja around the time I left had crashed at Port Harcourt. Great. In fact, some of the Kids I saw milling around the airport were gone. What perfect news to receive at the start of a 25 hour long flight. Needless to say, I made that trip with the Intruder close at hand. I fought hard and long during every turbulence and when we spent hours over the Atlantic.

Age 25 was pleased with me because I decided to marry that doting boyfriend of mine. About time. I traveled back to Nigeria for a small and quick wedding and spent roughly 2 weeks with my beau before coming back to Brisbane - ALONE. I was now married...and the Intruder whispered this to me...'the risk of being a widow is now real'. Scary. No,nothing can happen to my husband, we've only just got married. His parents are still married and alive and so are my parents. It runs in both our families. But the Intruder lingered. My husband called me almost everyday and when he went on travels (which he seemed to be doing all the time) he would tell me of ordeals he went through on some and how others were fine. My mind seemed to be able to filter out the good stories and retain the bad stories. So I worried. When I realized that worrying wouldn't do me any good, I switched to praying for him everyday when I woke up and before I went to bed. He joined me 5 months later. Phew.

Age 26 saw me get pregnant for our first child. Life was good. We got married. We live together. We were going to have a baby! There wasn't much to fear...till we lost the baby. Then miscarriages became a real and potent fear to us. I had to deal with this fear for 6 months until I felt bold enough to try again. I'm happy I tried because I now have Izabelle. However, the 9 months were spent fighting the Intruder on various issues that worry pregnant women - Oh God, I pray that my child will be healthy; I pray that I won't loose this one; I'm trying to eat well so that all will be well with my baby; I pray that my baby will not have down syndrome or any other syndrome....Believe me when I tell you that 9 months is a long long time when you're pregnant. Time only seems to go in the 5th gear after you've had the baby. which is probably because the babies can't wait to grow up. :)

You probably get my gist by now. Life is full of things to fear. The Intruder lurks around every corner and you don't even have to turn on the TV to see it because it's on the radio. Bomb blasts, air crashes, car crashes, kidnappings, fires, serial killers, natural disasters, cancers, health issues, arrrrrrrrrrgh!!! MAKE IT STOP!
We have all met the Intruder and we have learned to either live with it or deal with it. We can't achieve our highest potential if we are held back by fear. We have to take risks.
The highest feeling of fear for most people is the fear of death. For some other people, the fear of being rejected and worthless surpasses the fear of death, hence the push to commit suicide in some cases.

My encounters with the Intruder is not a sad ending story though. I have discovered that the opposite of fear is trust. If I trust you, I won't fear you. If I trust a driver, I won't fear when I board his car or bus...and so on. I have chosen to trust that even though I live in a world were I am exposed to a lot of dangers, I will be safe. So for me, it boils down to doing what I can do, and leaving the rest to God.
This is the reason that I have stopped being scared if a visibly Muslim man or woman enters the bus and sits beside me. I have stopped worrying if they're going to blow up the bus. I didn't stop because I trust Brisbane's security, I stopped because at that point, there is nothing else I can do except deciding not to go to work (which is not an option). The only thing I can do is trust God.

Recently I asked my colleague if she was ever scared of flying and she said that it didn't bother her. When I asked her why, she replied that since one would still die someday, what does it matter which way someone dies, death is death. She wouldn't let the fear that she might crash keep her from travelling on holidays or for work. After all, the odds are in her favour that she is more likely to land safely...moreover, if one decided to keep away from things that had the potential to kill like cars, planes, etc, then life wouldn't make sense. I like that attitude and I am trying to wear it. You've probably noted that I'm particularly nervous about flying, but I will fly. I will need to. I can't say that the butterflies would be gone the whole trip, but you know what? If the Intruder won't go away, I'll do life AFRAID. If you've noticed, when you do life, the Intruder slips away.

My Conclusion? Lets do life...don't let the Intruder intrude. Just do it.

Girlie Wisdom

1. A friend of mine confused her Valium with her birth control pills... she has 14 kids but doesn't really care.

2. One of life's mysteries is how a 2-pound box of chocolates can make a woman gain 5 lbs.

3. My mind not only wanders, it sometimes leaves completely.

4. The best way to forget your troubles is to wear tight shoes.

5. The nice part about living in a small town is that when you don't know what you are doing, someone else does.

6. The older you get, the tougher it is to lose weight because by then, your body and your fat are really good friends.

7. Just when I was getting used to yesterday, along came today.

8. Sometimes I think I understand everything, and then I regain consciousness.

9. I gave up jogging for my health when my thighs kept rubbing together and setting fire to my knickers'.

10. Amazing! You hang something in your closet for a while and it shrinks 2 sizes!

11. Skinny people irritate me! Especially when they say things like...'You know sometimes I forget to eat!' .....Now I've forgotten my address, my mother's maiden name and my keys, but I have never forgotten to eat. You have to be a special kind of stupid to forget to eat!

12. The trouble with some women is that they get all excited about nothing and then they marry him.

13. I read this article that said the typical symptoms of stress are eating too much, impulse buying, and driving too fast. Are they kidding? That's my idea of a perfect day!

SEND THIS TO 5 BRIGHT WOMEN YOU KNOW AND MAKE THEIR DAY!!!


LIVE SIMPLY.....LAUGH OFTEN....LOVE DEEPLY


** I didn't come up with this so I hereby acknowledge whoever did. She did a good job**

On a business note...

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Website: www.chennacollections.com.au
Direct store link: Store

Ok, don't get sidetracked, blogging activities continue below. :)

Reflections of an irate bus passenger

The Setup

Its only 12.00am and I feel like I've just been woken up for the 500th time in 1 hour...what was that noise? *sigh* its my alarm clock. Why is it waking me up at midnight? Who's been tampering with my phone? I have a look at the phone. Far out! Its 5.00am! Seriously, I'm only sure because I just checked my phone. Gosh, I feel like I've only just gone to sleep. *sigh*
I don't feel well at this time in the morning, I wonder if I can call in sick? No I won't do that, but i'll feel better after I rest some more. 5.26am!!! Gosh!! I better get up, I can't afford to miss my 6.44am bus!

6.40am and onwards

Its freezing cold but I didn't really mind because my bus should be here in the next 4 minutes.
6.45am...Awww Nancy, he's just a minute late! My bus was late yesterday, he arrived at 6.50am so when we got to Indooroopilly station, I had missed my connecting bus. I arrived work at 7:45am. I prefer arriving around 7.30am but 15 minutes later doesn't bite.
OK, when the bus hadn't arrived by 6.50, I was sure of two things:

1. It was definitely the same driver who was late yesterday; and
2. I was going to frown at him when I hopped on the bus (like he cared or would even notice!)

I kept on feeling cold and kept on checking my watch in between feeling cold. It was soon 7.00am and I was certain that our driver had decided not to show up. I sent hubby a text saying that my bus was late, then I sent him another one correcting myself and informing him that the driver did not even bother to show up. His reply? "OK. At least you found one. Have a good day." My mental response? "!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" (that was me screaming in my head)
Some minutes past 7.00am and a bus driver arrives so we all hop in. He said good morning but I did not respond. I hoped he realised I was livid because I had woken up early for nothing! I might as well have slept in!



OK, so a bus has FINALLY arrived, I've hopped on, I'm sitting down and I'M FUMING!
Below is a snapshot of what was going on in my hot little head.

The reflections

Gosh, I'm so upset....why are you upset? Well, for starters, I'm supposed to be at work by 7.30am. You are not SUPPOSED to be at work by 7.30am and you know that. Well I like being at work that early because it gives me 30 minutes to 1 hour of working alone without being interrupted.
*fume* I feel like giving the driver a piece of my mind. And what would that be? Hmmmmm...just watch and see. (I begin to imagine a confrontation in my mind) --> {I walk up to the driver and......
Nancy: Oh hi Driver, did you know that this bus was meant to arrive AT 6.44am?
Driver: What? Speak up, I can't hear you love.
Nancy: I asked if you realised that this bus was meant to arrive at this bus stop AT 6.44am?
Driver: No mate, that was meant to be the driver before me. What's your problem?
Nancy: Well, its just that unlike some other people, some of us NEED to be at work on time and we've been standing at the bus stop under freezing conditions for the past 30 minutes. *pause for a response but get none so I push on* Would you know why the other driver didn't show up?
The driver starts getting impatient because he's driving and I'm not supposed to be talking to him when he's driving, however, I'm too angry to care...until I notice that every other person on the bus is looking at me and listening to the conversation. The school children are snickering and whispering among themselves...One student speaks up, "Go back to your country if you don't like it here" and I snap back, "Well this IS my Country because I was born here just like you were. Moreover, even if I wasn't born here I shouldn't be listening to you because millions of Australians live overseas as well!"...At this point, I can't help but compare the bus system here to the one in some Nigerian cities - 3 come to mind: Nsukka (I begin to remember those yellow buses with yelling harmattan riddled conductors hanging from the bus from Barracks to Ogige Market) Not a good comparison so I make a mental shift to Lagos (lots and lots of buses with conductors yelling unintelligible destinations, I also begin to see the 'one chance' buses in my mind, and then I remember standing at a bus stop without knowing when and if a bus will come...then I almost re-feel the frustration I felt when a bus arrived but the driver decided he now wanted to go to another destination because there were more passengers going there!!!!) No this is worse than Nsukka and I almost have to shake off the bad feeling I'm getting...is there no city with a good public transport system in Nigeria? Aha Abuja (I remember that it wasn't too bad hopping on a bus from Wuse II to Kubwa, there always seemed to be a bus unless I got to the bus stop at a certain time in the evening) Oh well....by this time the school children are bold enough to giggle and giggle, other older passengers are staring at this crazy crazy lady, so I decide to go back to my seat. At least this driver now knows my thoughts about 'NO - SHOW' drivers and will perhaps have a word with the other absentee. } yeah right.

Ok so the above scenario didn't actually happen, it only happened in my mind so i'm trying to let off some steam and the reflections continue...

Why don't you listen to some soothing music on your ipod? It always makes you feel better. Aha, why didn't you mention it before! hmm what shall it be *i'm flicking through my playlists as its too much work to try and figure out what genre I want to be listening to* Ahhh, Enya and Yanni. Sweet. So I start listening to Yanni's End of August and my bus has just gone round the Sinnamon Park roundabout and is trying to merge with the Highway. What!!!Traffic congestion and we can hardly get on! Everyone is creeping, I mean EVERYONE. Oh, did I mention that I have known this all along which was why I decided to start taking the 6.44 bus just to miss the traffic? *exasperation* I wish I could stamp my feet. I can't so I just have to be satisfied with an eye roll. I'm fuming again! Our bus finally gets on the highway and we start creeping successfully. We cross the bridge and when I see the river the good part of my mind reminds me:
"Be thankful for what you've got"
"and what would that be?"
"Life. Its better to be on a late bus that on a crashing airplane"
"Well, yeah"

That seems to mellow me down a bit.

Enya's May it be begins to play just as we're driving past the Forest-like vegetation. I allow my mind to wander and the song makes me feel like I'm on vacation at a Rainforest location. I check my time and its 7.25! Gosh, I was supposed to be at Uni now. Enya is still playing and I am at cross roads in my mind. Should I wander away to my Rainforest vacation or should I keep fuming in my mind? I feel like a holiday, so i'll go for one in my mind, at least I don't have to worry about getting on the plane yet. Cool.
So I'm back at this Rainforest resort and its a lovely day. We are in a cabin and I'm about to make breakfast on this lovely lovely morning....Yanni's Santorini starts playing and I'm still looking out of the window in the kitchen of this cabin in this Rainforest getaway. The sunlight is dancing with the leaves in the wind. It's quixotic. The song gains momentum and I begin to feel like Greece. Greece. Ok, so I decide that we've made plans to travel from this resort to Greece and explore the historical sites. Did I mention that I know that Yanni is Greek? Oh yes, Greece will be lots of fun!...In reality I'm still on this late bus to work and my bus has just stopped to pick some passengers at a bus stop...all is well, I feel quite happy from my mind trip to the tranquil rainforest resort, then I just catch a glimse of my connecting bus zooming past us...COME ON DRIVER, MOVE IT! Catch that bus. No, the traffic isn't letting up. Wait, he's gotten back to the road and we're on the trail of my connecting bus. Woooooooooo...ouch, that was short lived because we're stopped by the unrelenting authority of the RED LIGHT and I watch my connecting bus get farther and farther away into the distance.
*sigh* Oh well.
......
Green light, our bus is moving again, Enya's The Memory of Trees begins to play and I'm actually feeling happy now. Life is great. I'm sitting on this bus, the sunlight is in eyes, God's love is in my heart and I feel alive. I've got a wonderful family to go home to at the end of the day and I'm going to have a PERFECT day after all!
.........
We're at the connecting bus stop now and 3 connecting buses have just left without me because I'm still trying to get off Bus #1. I touch off my Go card on the machine then I smile at the driver and say, "Thanks Driver" before getting off to face this Perfect day!

8.05am, I get to the office, mutter something about absentee bus drivers to Lizanne and hop on my computer.

Late bus? At the end of the day, it doesn't really matter.

What is harder than shopping for clothes?

I love shopping! I think that 99.9999999% of women LOVE shopping in varying degrees. Some are addicted to shopping, some are obsessed with shopping, some others have a dysfunctional relationship with shopping and need psychiatric care or rehab. I like to think that my love for shopping is in the healthy range. Of course, this may be partly due to the fact that my husband and I have a transparent relationship so he gets to find out about 'most' of my purchases!
Another factor that greatly limits my shopping is a two pronged situation (a) driving licence-less-ness (b) i have been babied.
If i had a car, I could take off and 'visit my friends' via the shopping mall and of course being babied only means that I have to take the baby along. Now, since I'm not yet driving on my own, the logistics of taking Izabelle on the bus is too much because it is always uncertain if one will end up getting the 'stroller-friendly' bus or the 'extremely stroller-unfriendly' bus.

Kachi has ended up driving me to and tagging along for most of my visits to the shopping mall! He doesn't mind grocery shopping that much because his mind has been programmed to accept that this happens a couple of times every week! The ones he dreads are my personal shopping trips where I have to choose and decide between billions of clothes, undies, shoes, makeup, and hundreds of other things that I desire but can't afford on my (or our) budget.
One familiar complaint is that I take to long to decide on what I want. My patient answer to this question is always the same: if I am buying a shoe with my hard earned cash, I must be ABSOLUTELY sure that it is the best one (for my price range) in the mall that day, and then it has to be the best option among the shoes that JUMPED OUT AT ME from the shelves.
needless to say, these requirements usually narrow the chosen ones down and sometimes it means that I have to go home without the item after all said and done (because it is better to keep searching for the right one with your money in your pocket, than to buy a second best option only to see the first love on a shelf the next day you walk in the shop). If you could return the second best option, then alls well that ends well, but if you got it at a sale price, then the rest they say is history.

While choosing items for my wardrobe can be very tasking, it is by no means the most tasking of shopping expeditions. Oh no. From past and present experiences I have decided that the most challenging item to shop for is BREAKFAST CEREAL. Seriously.

Have you ever been to the Cereal aisle in supermarkets? Where as other products have to compete for spaces and sections on the shelves, the entire left shelves of most breakfast product aisles are exclusively reserved to hundreds of different types of breakfast cereal!





I don't have too much problem choosing cereal for my daughter because budgets disappear when you buy stuff for your child. Most baby cereals look like they do pretty good things to baby bodies and they occupy just a section of one small shelf, so its not a big deal to buy all of them. Now with adult breakfast cereals, things are different because buying all of them in one go is stupid since they are too many and will break the bank.

It is my idea that the first meal of the day is a very important start to the day...in fact, I'm almost superstitious about it because I feel that if I have a bad or unhealthy start, that pretty much sets the tone for the whole day. If this is actually true or not is another story though.

Prompted by my problem solving husband, I have pondered on my 'cereal-shopping problem' in a bid to identify the issues involved and solve them if possible. The reasons that come to mind are few but serious.
PROBLEM 1)
How do you choose one good thing above another good thing when you have never tried both of them? Now remembering how long and high the cereal aisle is should help you appreciate the magnitude of this problem. On my monthly pilgrimage down the lengthy and uncertain aisle of the cereals, the journey is fraught with extreme turmoil of the mind because of the decisions I have to make in such a short period of time (remember that hubby is tagging behind with the shopping trolley! Oh the pressure, the pressure on my poor nerves). To bring this problem closer to home, let me show you a couple of cereals that I meet on this pilgrimage-



all bran original is very high in dietary fibre and a good source of thiamine, riboflavin and niacin, folate, iron and magnesium. it is also low GI.

All-bran dual helps your digestive system with 2 types of fibre, one of which cleanses your insides while the other nourishes the good bugs in your gut



crispix is low in fat, high in carbs and a good sources of 4 essential vitamins


crunchy nuts is irresistibly tasty


Nutrigrain makes you an iron man


special K is a sensible 99%fat free cereal for women who want to manage their shape.

High in fibre sounds good for a wonderful start to the day doesn't it, but does that beat the All-bran duo with 2 types of fibre? Oh, and don't forget crunchy nuts that is irresistibly tasty...hmmmm.... and how about being an iron woman with nutrigrain? oh, are none of these as sensible as the special K? Don't try to solve this problem by asking me to buy all of them and mix them in my bowl because these are only 6 out of a sea of cereal
PROBLEM 2)
What you see is NOT what you get!
I have learnt this lesson the hard way because I have been moved to decide on a purchase by the picture on the cereal packet only to rush home and be unpleasantly surprised because the beautiful yummy mouth-watering cereal in a bowl of fruit I saw in the packet was NOT the same cereal that was in my own bowl. Massive difference. I would like to meet the photographers who take those pics.
PROBLEM 3)
Being adventurous and just going ahead and buying one I have never tried before (which are in their tens or hundreds) is a huge risk. What if I end up loathing it? I can't bin it because it is the WRONG thing to do.....you know that some people are starving and don't even have as much choice as I do....then I'm accountable to someone else.....then....its a waste of money....then...oh, gosh, its just the wrong thing to do OK?
The only thing is that if I buy one that I hate, I wont eat it that often so it will take so long to finish and so I can't even go ahead and buy another one!
PROBLEM 4)
Being unadventurous is even worse than the former problem because it makes that journey down the cereal aisle even harder for me to endure. As I'm walking straight to the one I'm used to buying, the other ones keep calling out to me: "try me, I'm high in folate"; "no, try me, I'm irresistibly tasty" (now that's one that is hard to resist) "try me, I'm ......." "try me, I'm....." ".........."!!!!!!!!!! Far out!!! I just can't live my whole life knowing that there may be a much better option to the cereal I'm always eating and its sitting there on that shelf as I walk past every time! It goes against all my life philosophies.

Obviously I'm left with a few solutions to my predicament.

SOLUTION 1)- try them all out, then make a list of a few that I like. Its a risk, I know that, but consider the other option of being unadventurous! Wouldn't it be easier if the cereal companies made sachet sizes of all their cereals? then it would be easier to even buy them in one or two shopping trips and that way, if you encounter one that you can't stomach, it won't be such a sin if you silently directed it to the bin. Oh, but I think the companies know what they are doing when they only have small sachet sizes of the most popular choices. As for the other ones, we are left in the dark, with only a false picture and some scientific blurb to help us decide.
SOLUTION 2)- I could stop eating cereal...I find it easier to choose bread and Milo.
But my breakfast life will become very predictable and unbearably boring.

*sigh*
Being the Nancy that I am, you know what the choice will be. Why can't life be easier? I remember the days that the options were limited - Akamu (pap as Nigerians call it), custard, and Nasco's Cornflakes. I didn't have this predicament then, partly because I was a child and had to go with whatever mom and dad decided on (:)) and also because that was most of the options that were available in the town we lived in then.
I can't go back to those days, so suffice it to say that I will keep going on this risky and adventurous journey of buying previously unknown cereal with little certainty on their real personalities. Perhaps, one day I'll get close to the end of the tunnel, where I'll have a wonderful list of favourites (this wont be possible if the companies keep being innovative though), but that thought won't stop me!
Till then, its back to the cereal aisle for me!

My responses to a yummy mummy interview sent by a friend

1. WAS YOUR FIRST PREGNANCY PLANNED?
My first pregnancy was lost. Izabelle is my second pregnancy and it was planned when it happened (if you know what I mean)

2. WHAT WERE YOUR REACTIONS?
I was worried about loosing it and then when I was assured by God that all was well, I was amazed that a 'human being' was growing inside me.

3. HOW OLD WERE YOU?
27

4. HOW DID YOU FIND OUT YOU WERE PREGNANT?
I knew that there was a high possibility that I would be pregnant, and when the time came to confirm, I really was.

5. WHO DID YOU TELL FIRST?
My husband, then my parents.

6. DID YOU FIND OUT THE SEX?
I tried to, but failed.

7. DUE DATE?
4 dates between 7th Nov and 12th Nov, 2008.

8. DID YOU HAVE MORNING SICKNESS?
Oh yeah!!!!!!!! Funnily, I threw up after I ate my favorite oats cereal. :(

9. WHAT DID YOU CRAVE?
Native chicken pepper soup, boiled groundnut, nzu, ukwa, and then other times, it depended on the day

10. WHO/WHAT IRRITATED YOU THE MOST?
Hubby's perfume! I had to hide it after a while. Every other person's perfume, especially an IT guy in my office (phew) who used to be drenched with a horrible perfume. Smokers were high on my list and people who didnt give me their seat when the bus was full!

11. WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST CHILD'S SEX?
Pink

12. DID YOU WISH YOU HAD THE OPPOSITE SEX OF WHAT YOU WERE GETTING?
No, but i thought I was having a boy because hubby thought it was a girl. I like to differ.

13. HOW MANY POUNDS DID YOU GAIN THROUGHOUT THE PREGNANCY?
hehe. I dont do pounds, but in Kilos, i gained around 15kg

14. DID YOU HAVE A BABY SHOWER?
yes, and i loved it

15. WAS IT A SURPRISE OR DID YOU KNOW?
I knew

16. DID YOU HAVE ANY COMPLICATIONS DURING YOUR PREGNANCY?
I had gestational diabetes and had to check my blood sugar 4 times a day, and give myself shots of insulin 4 times a day. YUCK

17. WHERE DID YOU GIVE BIRTH?
Mater Mother's Hospital, Brisbane

18. HOW MANY HOURS WERE YOU IN LABOUR?
over 26 hours

19. WHO DROVE YOU TO THE HOSPITAL?
Husband

20. WHO WATCHED YOU GIVE BIRTH?
Husband, midwives and one student.

21. WAS IT NATURAL OR C-SECTION?
natural

22. DID YOU TAKE MEDICINE TO EASE THE PAIN?
Yes I did

24. HOW MUCH DID YOUR CHILD WEIGH?
3.36kg

25. WHEN WAS YOUR CHILD ACTUALLY BORN?
8.22am on the 24th of October 2008

26. WHAT DID YOU NAME HIM/HER?
Izabelle Chikwere

27. HOW DID YOU CHOOSE HIS/HER NAME? WHAT INSPIRED YOU?
After I had miscarried the first pregnancy, I did not get pregnant for 6 months because i was scared. After hubby started persuading me, I turned to God and started questioning him on why it happened and how to assure me that it wont' happen again. at the time, i didnt even know i was pregnant again.
one day while i was in this mood, a scripture floated into my heart and it said, "forget the things that happened in the past, and do not continue to consider them. Look I have started a new thing. do you not perceive it?". that was when I suspected that I was already pregnant without even knowing it.
Sure enough, I was and since I felt God had said to forget the tragedies of the past and trust that He's in charge of the new thing that has started happening, I decided to call my baby
Izabelle (God's promise) /Chikwere (God promised) if she was a girl or
Jaydon/Chianugo (God has heard).

28. HOW OLD IS YOUR FIRST BORN TODAY?
6 months +

29. HOW HAS YOUR LIFE CHANGED (WHAT HAVE YOU LEARNT SINCE THE ARRIVAL OF YOUR BABY?)
I have learnt that Children ARE a blessing from God.
My life has been enriched by Izabelle. Her smiles warm my heart and bring me soooooooo much indescribable joy. I loose sleep a lot now. I have to take her into consideration when thinking of going out to somewhere. sometimes, i cant go to places i used to because of the logistics of taking her.
I have someone who came from My husband and lover, and myself and I feel priviledged to be the mother of the child of the man I love so much.
i have learnt that dreams do come true and that God is always there for us every step of the way.
I have learnt how to overcome fear and trust God (fear of labour was a big one)
I have learnt to trust God. I have learnt to put my family first.

30. IN A SENTENCE, WHAT DO YOU THINK OF MOTHERHOOD?
Motherhood is a blessed priviledge from God to care for an amazing creation who is close to his heart.

Mama no dey always fine but her pikin still love am

For my non-Nigerian readers, the literal translation of the topic above is "Mummy doesn't always look beautiful but her child still loves her".

The Nigerian "pidgin English" adage that I coined this from should be familiar to many, "Monkey no fine but him Mama like am" which means that though a monkey is not handsome its Mummy still loves him. It just means that Mothers love their children no matter how they look.

I don't feel ugly, but I don't feel as beautiful as a magazine cover girl everyday! I guess the same goes for most people. I am one of those girls that love to dress up. I know I'm wonderfully and beautifully made but I feel ever more beautiful when I've spent some hours deciding on and choosing an outfit, then spent about 45 minutes more making up in front of a few different mirrors (the more the mirrors, the more visual perspectives of yourself), sprayed at least 2 different perfumes ( its always good to hear, "hmmm...I love your perfume. It smells rare, what is it?") and spent a little bit more time turning this way and that in front of the mirror till I'm satisfied.

Since I'm on leave and I don't go out that often, if there's somewhere to go and we 're rushing out, I still feel satisfied to spend the entire trip making up in the car! (there are also a couple of mirrors there), though sometimes I won't feel as 'beautiful' as I feel when I've spent about 3 hours at home doing the 'beauty' routine.

Being at home for the most part of my 7-day week has meant that my 'beauty' routine has been relegated to the back bench until we're going somewhere. Well, when I first started staying at home, I was pumped about being a temporary housewife so I used to try to do myself up before Kachi got home from work...did u ever read those books about how to look great at home when your hubby gets home because he's been working with gorgeous ladies at work all day? I read them.
I got compliments the first couple of days, but the frequency died down and after he probably got more interested in other things like Obama and the Credit Crunch than complimenting my make-up and pair of jeans, I became less pumped about dressing up everyday.

What is funny to me though is that some mornings I catch a reflection of myself in the mirror and I'm like, "Jeez, was that me?" but when I get to Izabelle's room, I'm a bit taken aback at the enthusiasm with which she welcomes me!
I'm not sure why I started thinking, "hmmm, she loves me even though I don't look like Jennifer Aniston right now". I'm not saying Jennifer is the most beautiful woman in the world, but when they do her photo shoots, she does look pretty good. Anyway, so when I'm on that train of thought, I remember that there are a couple of other people that love me irrespective of how I look. - God, Kachi, Mom&Dad and hopefully, my siblings. Oh and my TRUE friends. lol

That said, there are few times that my looks have attracted a laugh from my little Izabelle. Would you believe that? I knew you would doubt me so I'll attach a picture below.

Can you see the cheeky little girl laughing at my hair style? I couldn't believe it myself, so I called Kachi and told him. lol
If you're wondering how I got that hideous hair style, here's what happened.
I took out my twisted braids, which I had on for about 3 months. The only care I gave the braids was a spray of pink oil now and then and a couple of washes I think (don't worry too much about that though). When the braids came out, my hair was in real dreadlocks. I was worried because I knew I had to comb the hair lock by lock!
Well......my fast brain remembered a Sunsilk advert, where a Jamaican boy who had dreadlocks came into a shop and bought a shampoo that was suggested by the shop girl only to come back the next day demanding for his money back because his hair was now straight and wavy (I am laughing at myself now). Anyway, I did believe that shampooing and conditioning the hair would untangle my dreadlocks just like the Jamaican boy's hair. Boy, was I WRONG! I should have known better, but I'd never tried this before, and then there was that advert, so...........u know the rest.
My hair became a twisted mess of the ugliest dreadlocks you have ever seen and I toyed with the idea of cutting the whole thing off. It took me about 4 days of hard work to comb the hair out and because the combed part kept getting in the way of the dread-locked part, I had to tie them up at the front as seen in the Pic. This cracked Izabelle up big time.

After I got my hair back to shape, I proceeded to get some fake dreadlocks which looked cool. Well, I've now taken them out and I was horribly shocked when I approached my mirror because some part of my hair has gone with the dread. I actually look like I'm balding from my temple. I know it will grow back but i wonder if I'll get some more laughs from my little cheeky girl.
No matter how bald I get ( and i pray I don't get balder than this), I know she still lurvessssssssssss mummy. Maybe because I am positively correlated with food and sweet escape from dirty nappies, or because I sing the Susan Boyle style of classical music to her ( i wonder what our neighbors think), or maybe its just because I'm her mummy and she doesn't know if I look good or not just yet. I know that things may change when she's a teenager, she'll still love me alright but she might say the kinds of things I said to my mom...stuff like, " Mom, that dress makes you look short and I'm not going out with you if you don't change it".
Till then, I'm happy to soak up all this unconditional love from her and from everyone that gives it.
woooooooooot wooooooooooot.

My Quest for the Silent Mode

Have you ever tried to be quiet? I mean really really quiet?
Lately, I have been required to lead a really quiet life from a particular time of the day. There are so many reasons why someone might have to be quiet. Here are a few ranging from fairly common to quite dramatic:

• Your family members or housemates are asleep and you dont want to wake them;
• You are in the library;
• Your housemates are studying for a difficult exam;
• You are stealing without a weapon;
• You are trying to hide from a predator or an attacker.
  
• You are having a late night chocolate fix that hubby doesn't approve of.
• etc

My life is fairly simple at the moment so all the above reasons don't apply. The only reason I have to be quiet is that I'm usually awake till 2am and everyone else (or more precisely, the other two members of my nuclear family) are asleep.
Being quiet is really of great importance because those of you who are mothers understand the weight of this sentence - You dont want to be waking your baby up after you've spent like 2 hours to get her to sleep in the first place....not at 2am! Another things is that since Im on maternity leave, I can afford to go to bed by 2am. However, Kachi will strangle me (well not really, but he won't be impressed with me) if I wake him up around this time because he wakes up at 5.30am to go to work...and he finds it difficult to go back to sleep after being disturbed.
Dear friends, these are the conditions that hang over my poor little head when i'm frollicking on the internet or watching a movie till 2am.

Well I have been trying my best to be as quiet as I possibly can, but I have not been successful. Let me walk (or tiptoe) you through the process-----
I usually put Izabelle to sleep around 9pm but then she usually has a feed around 12pm. cool. The problem begins when I try to tiptoe out of her room (after the woooooooooo moment, remember?)...when I tiptoe, my toe knuckles make cracking noises(am I right to call them toe knuckles?). I have been thinking of a solution to this and asides from going for an ancient Chinese body detox and traditional medical treatment, the only other solution that I figured out was eating salmon. Yes, because I heard that Salmon had good oil in it and I assumed that it will lubricate my joints. (don't burst this bubble if you're a medical professional though because the lie that I dont know might continue to work for me).
My noise problem continues because as I head back for my computer, I decide that its time for a night snack, since the last time I ate was around 8pm. At this time of night my fave snack is a cup of Milo. So I tiptoe noisily to the kitchen and open the fridge door. Oops, my fridge door makes a popping sound when I open it, however, its noisy sin pales in comparison to the next one that is about to be committed by the Microwave!
I really wish I didn't' need Mrs Microwave's services at this time of night, but I love to warm up some milk and then stir in my Milo. That's the way I love it. So even though I cringe when the microwave door opens noisily, the major sin of the night happens when the microwave beeps. OMG, in the dead of the night, my microwave's beeps sound like SIRENS!!!
I even try to reduce the duration by stopping the thing at 0.01 seconds but I still end up with 2 beeps - Stop and Clear.
I recover from this pretty quickly though because I've still got the milo and that gives me enough reason to forgive the multitude of sins committed by my inanimate electronics. However, the night is still young and more noise is yet to be committed.
One is by my computer when I switch it off, however the one that I dread the most (that is, second to the Microwave beeps) is the ceiling fan switch. I reckon it sounds like the cracks of a horse whip and there are usually T-W-O that need to be switched off. (please remind me why I bother to sleep late?)
As you can see, my quest for the silent mode is well placed. The only reliable inanimate friend I've got in my house is my little nokia phone because its got the SILENT MODE!! This means that even though i'm lying right beside Kachi, I can text myself to sleep without waking him up. Just out of curiousity, have you tried to text in the dead of the night? Try it...you wont realise how loud your keypads are until you do.
Having the silent mode option in my phone made me wonder,"why does my microwave not have a silent mode button?" I mean, its great that It likes me to know when my food is ready and all, but at 2am, I'm standing right in front of it and really can't afford that luxury.
Also, if my fans had a remote control, I could switch them off without having to wake everybody! Iwouldn't mind a fridge that I could open discreetly either.

I would like to believe that these techonological suggestions already exist (I have a standing fan that has a remote control), so I have made the decision to do some research into these solutions.
I'm optimistic that I will find positive results, and I will make sure that I save these results and pictures of the electronics with such features in a folder in my computer because I've got a plan.
My plan is that on the day that Kachi will tell me, "baby, I've been thinking 'long' and 'hard' on this and I think that it is time for us to buy or BUILD a house", I"ll respond with, " WOW, OMG, THAT IS SOOOO GREAT. Hang on, I've already compiled a list of NEW stuff that need to go in the NEW house!" and then I'll fish this list out!

I'm not sure how many years it'll take for the above scenario to play out so at the moment I'll just keep eating my salmon and dreaming about my brand new 'silent mode button' enhanced electronics!

My silent, triumphant WOOOOOOOOOOOOOS

Being at home on maternity leave for 6 months has meant that I have developed some new habits. Recently I noticed one particular habit that I think is worthy of note because its ...a bit stupid.
I call it 'My silent, triumphant woooooooos'. If you're wondering what a wooooooo is, its that shout of delight when something you like happens...like-" we're going to Hawaii next week, WOOOOOOOOOOOOO", or "we're getting married tomorrow, WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" (the length and frequency of the woooos also depends on how exciting the thing is, like going to Hawaii vs getting married tomorrow!)
Ok, so 'My silent, triumphant woooooooooos' are the same wooooooooooos, only that I have to jump, wave my hands in the air, and shout my wooos quietly.....thats right, the person in the next room wouldn't even be able to hear me!

I have noticed a couple of things that culminate in these silent woooooooooos.
The first one that comes to mind would be when I have gone through my obstacle course for the day. You see, when I wake up everyday, I have a list of things that I HAVE TO DO and things that I LOVE TO DO. Things that I HAVE TO DO are stuff like dishes, housecleaning, filling up water bottles for the fridge, going through the mummy-daughter ritual that gets Izabelle to sleep around 11.00 am (her morning bath, morning feed, some playtime, some time watching her favourite TV station which actually is my favourite TV station for her, some more feeding , then sleep), having my shower, making lunch/dinner or both, and making my bed.
Things that I LOVE TO DO in no order of priority include watching cartoons with a glass of juice, facebooking, blogging, just hanging out on the internet doing nothing necessarily innovative, reading a nice book ( i haven't done that in a while though), or going back to sleep.

Naturally, I have to do the things that I HAVE TO DO before I get to do the things that I LOVE TO DO. This is where the obstacle course theory stems from. The obstacles to doing the things that I LOVE TO Do are the things that I HAVE TO DO.
I dont necessarily hate the things that I have to do, but because my brain has classified them as chores because they are things that I cannot decide not to do, I find myself preferring the things on the I love to do list. That said, I can predict that when stuff like facebooking find their way into my list of things I HAVE TO DO... (i'm not sure how that can happen) it will become less preferred than things that remain on the other list.

My first woooooooooooooooo of the day comes when I have successfully put Izabelle to bed. WOOOOOOOOOOOO. that is usually a major feat because she is quite sociable and tries to stay awake for as long as possible. so after putting her down in her cot, I stand beside and watch her for about 20 seconds and if she's having a successful sleep, I ritualistically throw my hands in the air, and WHISPER WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.
i must say that the quietness of these triumphant shouts in no way dampen the victory I feel at those moments!
My second woooooooooooo of the day comes when I've successfully finished the dishes and sterilising the bottles...WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO...I have to be quiet though because we dont want to destroy the first woooooooo by waking baby! The burst of energy i get from this second wooooooooooooo is able to carry me through my morning shower and making the bed....and on to the final WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO....because now, and only now can I do the things I like to do without any chores hanging over my head.
I usually dont mind if Izabelle wakes up now though, because she is rested and happy enough to be independent on her bouncer.
As i will be starting work in about 3 weeks (where did the months go?!), I wonder if these wooooooooooooos will find their way into my office....I'll let you know if they do and what the reaction of anyone who caught me was.
Till then, I am firmly committed to my daily silent, triumphant wooooooooooooos.

My flings with Routine

Everyone has to have at least 1 thriving relationship with a routine in their lives. I was pondering on my routines and I discovered that I have different types of relationships with my routines.

There are the short flings with some routines, longer flings with some luckier ones, off-and-on flings with some others, continuing relationships with some and lasting relationships with others.

I have on-and-off short flings with my exercise routine. Oh, I would love for our relationship to go through the ranks and progress to a lasting one, you know like the kind of relationship I have with food, but somehow it doesn't just get there. I think that I need to go into more details so that I can be helped by a relationship therapist.
You see, I notice the routine first, maybe on TV ( there is a Govt. funded advert on being active), or on the phone when my friends tell me about their boxersice class in Gym. This makes me start to think, hmmm, I think this routine ought to be in my lifestyle.
Then this progresses to research. You know how you find out stuff about someone you think you might want to date? Well, that's what I do about this particular routine. I hop online and check about what kinds of exercises would help me get rid of my post-pregnancy tummy, or help me get back to size 10.
Oooh, I start getting excited about now and I tell my husband as he innocently passes by the study, "Baby, I've decided that I'm going to start exercising...again..." and he normally responds with, "Yes, you need to."
By now, I'm all fired up and ready to ask my routine on our first date! I look around the house for weights, and if i don't find any and dont want to ask hubby to buy some (he thinks i'm impulsive), I fill up some water bottles and use them instead.
Next step would be to create a 'gym music' playlist on my ipod and the very next morning I'm off on my first date. I crank up my 'gym music' and try to remember the moves we used to do when last I was in a gym. (oh, you should see the expressions on my little daughter's face as she watches me!)
The next day, I discover some muscles I never knew I had because I'm ACHING all over. But NO!, nothing can deter me from my new found love, so by 10.00am, I'm fired up, although not as aggressive as the day before.
By the third day, my infatuation has waned, but I'm still a faithful lover, so I go for a walk with the pram instead. When I get back, I re-view the Ad on TV and note that it says to exercise for around 30mins at least 3 times a week, so i feel that I am now entitled for a rest.
Next week, I exercise for 2 non-consecutive days of the week. The next week, I skip exercise because ....................... maybe I'm sure I'll do it the following week.
Needless to say, by the end of the month, my fling with exercise is sadly over and I'm back to my 'unhealthy' ways of not exercising :(

I must say that I have seemed to be able to retain some relationships with some other routines. The ones that I have lasting relationships with are those that I can't imagine living without- like brushing my teeth...you know...I have never left my teeth un-brushed for a week, maybe a day, but not even up to two days. Brushing seems to be a kind of routine that you've never experienced what it feels like not to do it for a week, yet you're scared stiff of the repercussions so you don't want to try. Maybe its a control thing, or maybe its the way our parents drummed it into our young heads, or maybe its only a fear of the unknown.
Other similar relationships I have are with my daily showers, feeding, sleeping, and facebooking.

Some new routines that I have managed to hang on to are sterilising my daughter's feeding bottles...I figured out how to have a daily date with this routine by doing it immediately after doing the dishes. Did I mention that the only reason I do the dishes is because there's no one else to do them? I mean, who loved doing dishes when they were young? Not me-I remember forcing my brother to wash the spoon that was left over from his batch!

Still, I am expecting my mother-in-law to arrive soon, and I know she'll offer to do the dishes sometimes. I intend to take her up on the offer and I hope I'll find a way to maintain my sterilising relationship with Izabelle's bottles...I have to! Maybe, I can ask Mom-in-law to do them along with the dishes! Woohooo

Till then, I am left with the uphill task of figuring out a way to make my short and intense flings with exercise a long and lasting one.

Please drop me a line of suggestions and I promise to try every single one...unless its unreasonable (i.e. involves waking up before the godly hour of 6.00am).