Re-entry into blogging.

I started blogging because I needed a creative outlet during my maternity hiatus from the working world. I stayed with it - through dry spells and periods of artistic gushes - because I loved the idea of documenting my growing family for posterity.

And I am glad I did.  Because they grow up way too fast.  When I started blogging, my second ( Monkey Boy) was still in my belly.  By my last post, my third (La Principessa) was barely a year old.  Today, I have the six and a half year old Numero Uno, a four and a half year old and an almost two year old. Wow.

So I've decided not to wait until I have something profound to say, because let's face it, that moment hardly ever comes around.  And I'll just celebrate my family, my life and those little moments that are uniquely mine - that I would not trade for anything. Like this, right here. Curl power. Girl power. Pout power. Loves her.

Still got 'it", pp :)

Like a shorn sheep...

...all fragile and skinny, timid - being led back from its (annual?) shearing. Was MonkeyBoy, my petit bebe, sadly, bebe no more. I always feel that baby's first hair cut is almost akin to a 'mini-manhood' ritual. In some cultures they wrap their prepubescent young men in a sheepskin and feed them with a bottle for a day or so (no kidding). The boys in turn communicate with grunts and squeaks just like a baby, right before they circumcise them. I know, ouch. But thank God MB's was just a haircut. But I still got that choked up feeling and I still took pictures and grabbed a fistful of his kinky crop to remember. you know the good old days, when he was not such a 'mini boy'. Sheesh! Mama getting old, yo!

In closing, there is nothing like a pair of sunglasses to get you feeling dapper again. Very 'Nicole Richie', darling...

mother of li'l men, pp

PradaPrincipal, interrupted

I was going to have a glamorous pradalicious weekend. This was ordained, because, you see - I deserve it. My husband deserves it. I mean, with two little ones, let's face it - after a while it's hard to find each time for each other, or indeed, even finding each other becomes an egg hunt of sorts. Because one (or both of you) are in opposite sides of the house, hiding from the kids, or watching your shows, or just having 'me' time. So 'us time' gets lost in the shuffle often. Well, Friday night was going to be a nice adult night to do nice adult things. Like go to a premiere. Yes, it was for a Nollywood* movie, but a premiere by any other name...



It was nice to actually think about what I was going to wear. I asked my hubby what the dress code was, and of course he said "jeans and a shirt", which is manspeak for "dunno, didn't ask." Ah, men. Gotta love 'em, bless their uncomplicated souls. So, the fashion wheels started turning - I had to put together something that would not be too dressy, just in case it was a more casual affair and nothing too ' hithereIjustrolledouttabedtocometothisevent' looking. I decided on a black mini DVF wool dress with 3/4 sleeves, purple over-the-knee cashmere socks, black Maryjane shoes, with three or four silver and oxidized chunky silver bracelets and cuffs. Add hoops and a big, bold purple flower pin and I was good to go. I am currently wearing my hair in a chin length bob, so I was just going to sweep it to the side with a couple of barrettes/ hair pins by good ol' 'Goody'. And Viola! Premiere here we come.



Except life happened. And it was Nanny's week off and she actually had plans - I know, who knew, right? And could not be cajoled - nay, threatened :) into staying Friday night and leaving Saturday morning. So, yeah. I watched 'The Game' (fabulous yet underrated show by the way) upstairs in my jammies and hubby watched {insert some political show here} downstairs. Deja vu? Oui. As well as tres pathetic, while we're being honest.



The next day we all (MB, Numero Uno, PP, hubby) went to the Smithsonian to catch the Jim Henson 'Sesame Street/Muppet exhibit and the 'National Air and Space' Museum. I know, how fabulous are we?

Prada's postscript: To be honest, the sesame street exhibit was a bit of a snooze for me and numero uno son - except where they got to make 'puppet faces' and have their own puppet show. But the NASM rocked. I was all giddy with excitement and so was NU son. It was no premiere, but it was fun!

Living the life, :-) pp



*Nigerian Hollywood = Nollywood

I'm Baaack! (and I'm still HOT!)

Yeah, it's me, as modest as ever (please excuse my messy closet) I am still wondering what the statistics are on the survival rate and quality of life of moms (especially working moms) with two or more kids under three is. I mean, this is ridiculous - there are not enough hours in the day for ANYTHING, and I literally mean, anything. Even say, a load of laundry. And I am fortunate enough to have a live in nanny and my number one son does preschool, monday through friday, but I still am overwhelmed. Jesus take the wheel, cos my driving these days sure does suck, if you know what I mean.

So on thursday, just as I was about to start pulling my hair out, I (wisely) opted for professional services instead and had it cut into a short, slightly angled bob, which is, I hate to admit, slightly a la Katie Holmes. Nothing against Katie, but I consider myself an original. Please allow me my delusions. I am inching my way gradually to cutting it really short, like how I had it some five years ago, but my face is still too fat. So the bob, which is like four, five inches shorter than my previous bob will have to suffice for now. I have lost 21 pounds in three weeks post partum, so I am proud of myself. What sucks is the fact that I still have 23 more to go. I am wearing those Au bon pain bagels and starbucks lattes I had during my pregnancy on my belly, butt and thighs. I have got to get my workout on. Like yesterday. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm still hot. Just grossly fat. :(

ttyl, PP