Sausage fingers
It has been a while since I wrote something; half term was a busy time with two children needing my attention every minute then came a week of tiredness and sickness. Now, I feel a bit revived after having a piece of Guinness cake – wonder if it is a psychological effect after a nice meal and celebrating a friend’s birthday.
This time - I don’t think I have managed to stick to sacrifice something for 40 days-there are too many cravings and temptations everywhere and this cold weather doesn’t help. I think with breastfeeding I am constantly in the kitchen feeling peckish and snacking most of the time – I am sure this will stop when summer comes! I know soon I will be rummaging through my wardrobe for light clothing and am sure some won’t fit me-that calls for a serious plan to burn off any excess baggage. I don’t want to look as if I have been on a fad diet and my neck and arms flapping like a hippo on the run! I realise now that I have fat fingers and use my phone for everything, they keep touching the wrong letter every time I use it, the number of times I have to delete a word or send a weird message is unbelievable. Please if you have received any funny text messages or email, I apologise profusely and the blame my sausage fingers and baby brain.
March is almost here and already the Easter eggs and bunnies in the supermarkets and stores are screaming ’Buy me! Buy me! ’. Nowadays, everything seems to be OTT and if you don’t join the band wagon you feel a bit left out. You have to make sure the little ones have a Easter egg hunt and some presents to open. I can’t remember doing such things or even getting a present during Easter. First, we used to get excited because it meant a long holiday and while in Mombasa it was the time for the Safari rally. A time of going by the roadside and watch fast cars zooming with the likes of Juha Kankkunen, Ian Duncan, Colin McCrae, Carlos Sainz and Patrick Njiru and another thing was to go to church and then have a good plate of food.
I may seem a little bit old fashioned but I think it comes with age and reflecting on some old memories of growing up in Kenya. When you are so far away from home, there are memories you still hold on and once in a while I sit and reminisce. All said and done, I have to stick to the new rules and make sure my daughter runs round the game with a bag collecting hidden eggs and bunnies.
Every parent wants to hear that their child is doing well in school and when they find out that they have been escorting others as my mum used to say they get a bit worried that something is wrong. I am dreading what the teacher will say about my daughter tomorrow evening at the parent consultation night - Has she been shy and quiet - as she says it. Little does she know when at home she is little Miss Mischief and Chatterbox on the loose! Or maybe she might say “She can do better than this .You never know...we will find out if we are up to muster in the homework assistance department!