Still Alive

Holla!

So...Joy put up a very nice blog post and put up a link to this 'ol place, and I decided to swing on by and...em...clear out the cobwebs I suppose.

Still cross-eyed. Trying not to multi task so much. Probably failing.
This is the hardest part - when babies are small and completely dependent on you for their entertainment.

And feeding. And fashion choices. And survival, I suppose.

But entertaining them is the hardest part. Same thing goes for toddlers as well. The Goo's favourite question after 'Why?' is 'What should I do now?'
Every time she asks, I flashback to myself as a child asking my mother a variation of that question "I'm bored. What should I do now?
My mother's responses ranged from 'I don't know' to 'Leave me alone!' to 'There are plates to wash' to 'Here! Read this M&B'
(To a nine year old, Mother! SMH)

Anyway, we're not talking about the beginning of my romance novel addiction. No, we're talking about how to entertain small children without causing permanent damage.

I'm still trying to figure it out but this is what I do:
(oh goody, a list!)

1. Don't park the 3 year old or the 4 month old in front of the TV - I'll admit this is tempting, especially if you've paid for the full subscription on DSTV. I mean, it's not as if I can watch any of my shows when they're awake. Sigh. However, studies have shown (Google is your friend. And I'm too tired) that it's bad for their wee little brains.
2. Do encourage them to play together but supervise - At the moment, The Goo is sulking 'cos I won't let her put a piece of cloth in Baby Z's ear. I have to make sure she understands that when I say it's okay to play with him, I don't mean as a toy.
3. Boundaries are important - For the toddler. who must understand that leaving the house without telling Mummy is a non-negotiable, spanking offence. Boundaries for the baby? Please, don't make me laugh.
4.  Read to them - Yes, I know it's time you don't have and the toddler keeps interrupting to ask questions and the baby keeps drooling on the page but just keep at it, and make sure you do the voices, and soon they'll both very happily fall asleep.
5. Let the toddler entertain the baby - The Goo loves to dance. I love to play music. Baby Z loves to watch his sister. Kismet.

That's all I can give to you today. They are done playing with each other and require my input. Oh joy!

Wowwy Wow Wow!

Just one post this year!

Wow!

I did not know that...I had put up only one post (so far) this year.

How did that happen? Well, I'm glad you asked.

First off, internet woes - here's looking at you Spectranet *wink*

Then, been busy busy busy - edited one anthology.
It's been sent off to a couple of publishers, now we wait with fingers crossed, on bended knees.
Then edited one book for a client.
Now in the middle of editing another anthology.
Details coming very soon (soon and very soon), just waiting for certain people to send in their stories. I won't be calling names or pointing fingers, but they know who they are.

Also been busy with non-work stuff - like being The Goo's Social Director and Stylist and Escort.

Participating in a Married vs. Single Ladies Cooking Competition (a cook-off?) at Church,

and just being generally busy, and tired and living life...like it's golden.

Hee hee.

Anyway, here's a little something something from me to you. Enjoy!

The recently developed off-planet colony of Nirvana was up and running. Marketed by the Relocate Earth Department of the United Nations as the home of the future for all who loved beauty and creation, it had drawn the brightest and the best of Earth's Recreative Movement. Of course, the brightest and the best needed their support system, so Nirvana was also home to maids, drivers, cooks, teachers, and spiritual directors.

Oh and Tech Support. You can't have an off planet colony running like clockwork without Tech Support. Enter T.

"Call me T", she was known to say. She loved Nirvana. She had always been idealistic, believing that Utopia was out there somewhere, so when she heard that the United Nations and a few Mega Corporations had been secretly developing an off planet colony just outside Earth's solar system, she was ecstatic.

"Nothing to get excited about babe", her friend Z, had told her, "I mean daddy says it will take forever before it's finished, and even then it will be an uber-exclusive set of people who will be relocated".

"I'll find a way", T had replied, and she had. Her friendship with Z had been instrumental. You see Z's daddy was a cosmetic surgeon. He straddled the line between recreative and support system. He was definitely getting on The Nirvana List.

"Big Daddy", T said to him, over the phone, "how are you going to get me on that list?"

"Why are you calling? Aren't you coming over?"

"Nah. Z asked me to go clubbing with her, and she'll get suspicious if I blow her off".

"Come home with her then. You can come to my room when she's asleep".

"Yes sir", she said, grinning, and hung up.

That night, he promised to think about it, but T knew he was lying, so she when she snuck back into her friend's room in the wee hours of the morning she put Plan B into play.

"Z, you know you and your dad are getting on the list".

"Probably, but The United Nations isn't as squeaky clean as it used to be. That list is going to be up for grabs to the highest bidder".

T sighed, "I wish I had money like you guys. I would so pay for a place on that list".

"Aaaw. Don't worry. You know you're my girl. I'll talk to daddy. We'll find a way".

Two days later, Z called. "T baby, guess what?"

"What?"

"Your name's getting on the list", Z screamed.

T screamed too, "Oh thank you, thank you, thank you. I love you so much. You are the best friend ever".

"You know it. You’ll be on the list as my Backup Buddy".

"Backup Buddy?"

"Don't worry. It's just a new department. It's a not a lot of work, and you get paid Mega Bucks".

Mega Bucks? T was sold, in more ways than she realised.

When they got to Nirvana, Z and her daddy moved to The Estate. T moved to a nameless shanty town. A few days later, Z drove her hovercraft too close to a gas flare. She survived, but lost an arm.

Enter the Backup Buddy.

Two years in, and Z's reckless living had cost T two arms and both legs. Cutting edge technology ensured the perfection of Nirvana a la Z remained unmarred. T was support system. Perfection was not a requirement.

But at least she was in Nirvana.

THE END...so far

Tomorrow (hopefully) - Pictures and Stuff. Have a great day!

More Than A Culture of Rape

Hey everyone!

I was hoping I would be back here with something fun, and light, and fluffy. I was going to tell you a little bit of what I've been doing with Good Intentions. I was, maybe, going to let you have a peak into the early stages of my character sketches. I was going to let you know how The (Unnamed) Book Club was going, and share some of the discussions on our book of the month.

But, I'm not.

Over the past few days, I've read about 3 rapes. Two fictional from J.R. Ward's Lover Reborn, and Lola Shoneyin's The Secret Lives of Baba Segis Wives. The non-fictional rape was the one that happened recently in India.

Normally, I avoid gory news. I don't think my knowing anything about it does anything for the victims or the situation. All that happens is that I get disturbed, and depressed. So I had been avoiding reading about the Indian rape case. I had noticed mentions of it on twitter, but I never followed the links. Then yesterday, my BFF, Cho, sent me a link and asked me to read and leave a comment. I asked if she had written it. She said no, but that it had made her angry and she wanted my opinion.

So I read it, or started it, then stopped half way. It was upsetting. Doubly so, because the writer was upset, and seemed to be writing on much more than the Indian rape case. The point of the piece that had annoyed my friend was that the lady said Nigeria has a culture of rape, and that women are raped here everyday and nothing is done.

I agree with the writer to a point. There is a culture of rape here, but much more pervasive is the culture of chauvinism. Rape is the fruit of Chauvinism. A culture that considers women as tools and toys. Women are not persons with thoughts, and dreams, but objects of pleasure, procreation or servitude. In both traditional and modern culture, women are second class citizens. If a woman is raped, it is because she did not dress right, she walked down the wrong road, she went to the wrong party/house/room, she trusted the wrong person, or she offended the wrong person.

Why didn't she make better choices?

If she was raped as part of a robbery, why didn't she lock the doors? Why didn't she hide in her room? Why did she come out in her nightie?

Come to think of it, how dare she go around with a vagina? Doesn't she know that she is putting herself in danger?

So generation after generation, we live in fear. We trust no one. Not brothers. Not uncles, cousins, teachers or friends. We have vaginas. We are victims waiting to happen. But there is a part of me that rebels against this, Scripture keeps running through my brain - God has not given me a spirit of fear, but of power, love and a sound mind. So how can I live in fear of anything with a penis, and still be walking in the fullness of God? Where do the two meet?

I'm honestly befuddled.

Because I live in fear. I have a daughter now who goes to school. Everyday she comes home, I watch her carefully especially when I give her a bath. Is she okay? Did anybody touch her?

Where does it stop?

When will men teach their sons that women are not toys? That stacking sexual conquest on top sexual conquest does not make you a man but a whore? When will men teach their sons not to rape?