My Parenting Style: My Own Cup Of Worry.

Parenting was an easy plight when you don’t have kids. I thought I nailed the parenting business before my kids arrived but I couldn’t be more wrong. It was a long winding tunnel of challenges.

My first girl arrived packed with punches. With extra two weeks overdue, I was induced to kickstart her arrival. As labour progressed, she showed signs of distress after 14 hours of intense labour and was delivered through cesarean section.

The first few hours of being a mother was filled with uncertainty, misery and confusion. I laid helplessly on the intensive unit bed bleeding my life out, while my new baby cried nonstop for four straight hours.

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In The Midst Of My Anger.
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In The Midst Of My Anger.

My son stood beside the window of my bedroom. He drew some imaginary animals with his fingers before climbing the bed beside me. I immediately knew he had something to say. He has a way of speaking without uttering a word.

“Mummy, you were a little grumpy this morning, yesterday and the day after and some days before then”. He said avoiding a direct gaze.

I thought for a few seconds before replying ” Really?”, pretending I wasn’t aware of that fact. I wasn’t just grumpy, I had been raving mad. Angry about everything. I knew it, but listening to this young man actually called my attention to me.

The Reason Behind My Madness.

As you know, parenting could be hard to fathom out sometimes, but for me, I have been struggling to come to terms with this truth. My children are not toddlers any longer. I expected some level of maturity. I have a teenager, a pre-teen and an eight-year-old. However, the challenges are as tasking as ever.

I stormed to the living room earlier demanding why the cushions were everywhere except where they should be. I was fuming with anger.

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The Tale of My Old Friend.

I lived in one of the slums of Lagos mainland. My house could be classified as what the local called “Face me, I face you” style of building, however, mine was a bit different from the norm. At the edge of the corridor was the gutter, part of which was covered with wooden planks and the rest left open. The sight was not pretty, but, we got used to it.

Ours were plights of rooms, lined up unevenly. Inbetween the rolls of rooms was an unsteady path which spread across the entire length of our corridor. Looking up, you could see the sky which I felt was a great advantage. The path only divided the rooms and their chronological arrangement. (more…)

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