I left my kajal on the shoulder of a kind midwife yesterday. I took the Tiny Oga to the clinic, she cried and screamed all the way there. Sister Xoli took her off my hands and I felt relieved yet inadequate and envious that she was able to comfort my daughter when I couldn’t. I also needed some reassurance, so I didn’t hold back. I didn’t quite bawl, but I shed a young tear.
Few things are more distressing than when your baby cries and you a) don’t know why and b) can’t do anything about it. When they eventually stop crying, and fall asleep or just start laughing, nje, out of the blue, you could do the manyisa, but not really because your sugar is just too high.
I still find it hard sometimes to know when I’ve reached my limit. I sometimes can’t ask for help. Inside, I know I literally can’t even, but something says “ain’t no break, bih…” and that thing isn’t my brain, or my ego; it’s conditioning. I am aware of the Monster Machinery of Msunery that works overtime to make every womyn feel like crap for every little thing that she does or doesn’t do, that she is, or isn’t. I know that nyolz but I am still affected.
I try my best to give my children the best of me, but you know what, sometimes, I don’t know what the hell they want. I sometimes don’t even know what to do. To be frank, I’m just freestyling, learning and growing as I go. We all are – alliancepartner, the cubs, and I.
In theory I know my efforts are enough, I know my best is good enough, but the Machinery of Msunery won’t let me live. Sometimes it’s got me feeling like my efforts and my time are not no good. When I’m trying really hard, and my efforts seem invisible, the force of it comes down like an Askari boot on my neck like: Not good enough. Buy more. Eat less. Be yourself. Be perfect. Have your own life. Don’t you dare put yourself first. Look like a mum. Look like you’ve never had a baby. Have a career. Stay at home. Give. Give. Give. Do it all. Don’t do anything your way. Buy more. Don’t forget to buy everything.
I’ve found myself stressed at 4am, that I’m possibly not doing enough, even though on a good day, I know I’m slaying the game. Sometimes the 4am anxiety becomes “wake up, I need to ask you something really important. Why didn’t you take the smoothie I made for you, to work? Didn’t you like it? Was it wack? Are my smoothies as wack as my mothering?”
Alliancepartner : 📷
It’s not easy for alliancepartner either, as an executive to try to find balance between excelling in his career while being an active, present member of our family. Men in his position are generally expected to put work above everything, including their health and families.
I am learning and relearning everyday, that raising a family, raising ourselves as parents, and especially raising myself as a mum (to love myself as I am, and as I become) are acts of subversion. It is a deliberate act of resistance for us to love each other as a couple, and to raise our family our way, in a world that sees families as efficiently organised units of consumers, as cogs in the Machinery of Msunery.