we finally got to go and stay with my aunty funke & grandma! it was so much fun in their house. it is a perfectly round house with a courtyard in the centre. grandma said she saw the design in an american magazine - a texan ranch house and she loved it instantly. daddy said they had so much fun as kids in this house.

mummy decided that this was the perfect day to slip away and get someone to come and do her hair. she had  arrived fully expecting to pay about 5000 naira (£20) for whatever hairstyle she chose. she was given a rude awakening when she was told it was 15000 naira for someone to come to the house. apparently this was the busiest time of the year and the lady couldn't spare anyone to leave the premises. as she slowly came round from that coma inducing announcement, mummy decided that sitting in this little market wasn't all that bad and that baby Judah would be fine with the emergency milk at home. she paid 10000 naira to look as close as she'll ever look to Solange Knowles. a collective gasp was heard from the braiders as they surveyed mummy's shrunken afro. "don't they have relaxers in london?" / "why is this hair like this?" / "ah, my sister, this one na serious matter o". it was as if God himself had come down from heaven to cancel Christmas. they were so despondent. by the time mummy had blowdried the hair it was like the miracle of lazarus being raised from the dead. suddenly normality was restored. but still the questions went on: why would anyone in their right mind want to have natural hair?? mummy looked at them point blank - "Because that is my hair. Deal with it."

during the braiding mummy looked across at the only other customer in this "busy" salon. she was about 4 years old and was getting her hair done in shoulder length twists. she looked like she was in agony & mummy was getting increasingly vexed. why was it necessary for a 4 yr old to get braids so small & so painful. she voiced her opinion & soon found she was in the minority as little kids started appearing from everywhere with all manner of braids in their hair. those hairlines....

so anyway, hair got done & mama was ready for christmas. Only thing she didn't bank on was the inconvenience of having waist length hair, a toddler and a baby. let the games begin! that hair was sat on, pulled, chewed, yanked - and that was just me! baby judah had a good go too. this was the best hair yet! woohoo!

mama wore:

outfit: sewn by a fab tailor in Lagos

shoes: Reiss (old)

lipstick: MAC Lady Danger

i wore:

sun dress: primark

p.s - by day 3 the novelty of calling mummy "mama" had worn off somewhat & i was now interchanging the 2, sometimes just shouting *Tanaka!*.

 xoxo

did i tell you that we paid £200 each for our visas to nigeria? i guess i thought mama did - she certainly told anyone that cared to listen - as if somehow by saying it over and over someone somewhere would suddenly offer her £800 for her troubles. no such luck.

in light of this insanity, our first port of call on Monday was the passport office to secure some green passports for those of us that qualified....mama didn't qualify.  the passport office followed the same trend of having  as many staff as clientèle. With such a ratio, one would think it would run at the peak of efficiency....not quite. Some people were simply there standing around and occasionally shouting "NO STANDING AROUND! KEEP MOVING!!". So, move we did. From this little building to that. To the next little building and then back to the beginning. In that time we filled in 3 short forms and daddy was told off for disturbing someone who had just returned from her lunch-break and was resting whilst her food digested.  basically we got nowhere fast.

mama and my aunty funke decided life was too short and left daddy and uncle busoye to it. off we went to the tailor to pick up an outfit for mama. whilst waiting for the outfit to be adjusted, i took a walk around the compound and got to see 2 chickens that were generally roaming the street. we became firm friends.

"here chicken, chicken!"

a few hours later we arrived back home and found my daddy and uncle had just got back from the passport office. they relayed the rest of their joyous time there as mama and aunty exchanged looks that said "thank GOD we left!". daddy said he wasn't wasting another day of his holiday going back there so operation green passport was shelved. did i tell you they knew someone at the office? oh yes, they did. so imagine how long it takes when you don't? i need a lie down...

xoxo

ok guys! thanks for your amazing patience....so here begins the story of our fab holiday in lagos, nigeria.

after a pretty interesting exit from the airport (which appeared to have as many staff members as passengers arriving), we headed back to my grandpas home. infact, quick rewind. at the airport we were rushed to the front of the queue because we were a family. my mama was delighted! she only enjoys queuing when she's clutching some amazing bargain. in the end we were still the last ones through immigration. the officers took great delight in doing a roll call of our names, one by one and then quizzing my mama on whether my daddy really was her husband. mama was becoming increasingly convinced someone was breaking into her suitcases and stealing all her shoes.....in her head, they had lasered her suitcase and seen all the shoes! as mama sunk deeper into her own madness, daddy was being reschooled in the Lagos airport procedures. A few thousand naira worth of handshakes later, we were out in the buzz of the Lagos night. mama exclaimed to my uncle how it never ceases to amaze her the number of people that are always hanging outside the airport! who are they? are they really meeting anyone here?

we arrived home to a place whose groundfloor lounging area was bigger than our entire flat. i went nuts, running around and discoveringlittle nooks and crannies. baby judah just looked around and took it all in happily.mama prised her suitcase open and was relieved to find everything intact.

so onto day 1.

i saw the swimming pool the night we arrived as grandpa took us on a tour of the home. i woke up ready for a swim. i did everything i was asked in the name of that swim! i was probably the best behaved 2 year old in it's anticipation. i made it to the pool eventually and had fun splashing about with daddy. mummy was nervous to go in after dad had said she looked "frantic" when she swims. she always thought she looked elegant and graceful swimming the breaststroke. now all she could picture was her looking like a spastic trout flapping out in the water....so she made daddy record her swimming so she could decide whether to carry on. #truestory

 i left them to it and went for a little play on the swing. then it was time to go in and have lunch...that mummy didn't have to cook! this really was the life! as soon as lunch was done i was ready to go back for a swim but mama & daddy had convinced themselves they'd be going out for the night so they wanted to rest a bit. daddy's cousins poured in left,right and centre and before long it was a hubbub of activity. fast forward a few hours and it was back to mama, daddy, me & baby judah again. what happened? basically, mama and daddy had deluded themselves into believing the young'uns would want to be hanging out with mrs eau de breastmilk and mr bed by 10. one by one they had all made their excuses and rushed off to one party or other.  as daddy started dozing off i looked at mama and said "can we go for a swim now?"

There is so much irony for me writing those words. Firstly, we have reached that awkward stage of the year when it is rather odd to be using "happy new year" as a greeting. Secondly, this year has been anything but happy so far. Don't get me wrong, nobody's died.  And in all honesty for some, we really haven't had that tough a time. One thing I've come to realise though is that we all have our levels of challenge, and that just because mine may not be as bad as yours does not mean it isn't difficult for me.

We came back from Nigeria and celebrated Christmas again - by which I mean we gave little Morayo-Hope a chance to open her gifts so we could take pictures and let her have something to take into nursery. On that day, just after opening her new little trike she went and bent over on the couch quietly. She was hot to the touch and we knew something was up. Long story short she had a blood test and was admitted to hospital with typhoid. Then ensued almost a week in hospital of iv drugs & us doing shift visits to the hospital: daddy sleeping there, mummy & judah spending the day. It was exhausting both physically & emotionally. After discharge she still had to go in for daily injections and until she was finally discharged.

We spent a few more weeks with no nursery as she had to be given the full all-clear before going back. Just as we were gearing up for that to be done, a flu virus decided now was a good time to come and camp in la casa Sotinwa. Next thing I was in an ambulance with baby Judah whose temp had shot up leading to a seizure and the most petrifying 5 minutes of my life. He was discharged after a days observation & I finally cried that day.

It's been hard to put up posts that don't scream "Woe is me! Ah me, ah me!". At the same time, I didn't want to put up posts that made it look like I'm just coasting on by, got it all together, Stepford wife style. I so haven't. So I just didn't. In this age of facebook/blogging/instagram, our perfect images can leave others feeling inadequate and wondering what they are doing wrong.

Bottom line is there are seasons to life & in this season it's just not been possible to be all that I wanted to be. So I decided to try and focus on being the best mum & wife I could be. That meant ignoring the running commentary in my head and doing my best to be present. I believe the worst is over and the best is yet to come. I have missed writing and can't wait to fill you in on the rainbow moments that have borne me through this stormy season! Life is beautiful!

I truly wish you a happy, healthy & prosperous year. May God , who has kept me sane, give you reason to laugh in 2014.

Love always,

Tanaka xoxo

soo..... in january this year my parents booked our trip to lagos, nigeria for christmas! baby judah wasn't born yet but his screaming spot on the plane had been reserved.

fast forward 11 months and mama was busy running around getting all the last minute bits together for the trip.if  you are black and reading this you know that is a lie. my mama was just starting. it was as if she just booked a last minute ticket! ok fine - somewhere in between is the truth....she kinda packed at the end of summer as she put our stuff away. then she relaxed and suddenly panicked when there was a week to go. cos that's just how she rolls. why write that important uni essay in week 2 of the term when you can work on it solidly in the last week of term with back to back cans of red bull?

anyhoo, we made it out of the UK with 6 suitcases. yes. 6. plus 4 pieces of hand luggage. no, we haven't relocated. mama said we actually travelled light. we were allowed another suitcase & she would've happily filled it had we actually been in possession of one.

i woke up early - ok, i was woken up after 4 hrs sleep. i had stayed up to watch the spectacle that was mama, daddy & my uncle Taz trying to weigh & rebalance the suitcases. my daddy did not want any drama at the check in desk. no moving of shoes from one suitcase to the other whilst onlookers marvel at the contents of said suitcases -"did I just spot a pack of sausages in there?! hope she isn't going to australia - she'll be on Banged up Abroad or Nothing to Declare!". none of that. and no wearing of five coats as there is nowhere to put them. none of that said mama. nobodys got time to be looking like a pimp at heathrow. so i watched, got bored and decided to open one of my christmas presents from my cousins toluwa & tobani....because I could.

so yes, i was rudely woken up but i was excited. nothing could dampen the excitement of getting on an aeroplane!that was until I got downstairs and we opened the door. "where is the aeroplane?" i asked. daddy explained that he isn't bill gates, at least not yet, and that we'd be going to an airport. hmm...in peppa pig they walked out of the door and next thing they were in the sky. is daddy pig bill gates?

anyhoo, airport was fun. i rode my brand new trunki suitcase whilst mama proudly took in all the "aww she's so cute!" and "how adorable!" comments I got.

the plane journey was a breeze for me. i watched a bit of. cbeebies then slept. there was a distinct lack of peppa pig but other than that it was a good flight. baby judah on the other hand seemed to have come prepared to make his presence felt. whilst mummy was trying to make a mental list of all the things she'd packed in her suitcase incase she needed to make a claim(yes, she was!) - baby judah decided to strike. he wailed in his sleep and then slept off again. this was repeated a few times on the 6 hour flight but my parents didn't get flustered. they had decided they were going to have a stress free journey...and despite judah's best efforts, they did. we were de-layered upon arrival and as we left the plane a local lady stopped mama and said "ah! have you not dressed this baby?!" mama smiled and explained that he had a short romper on. the lady heaved a sigh of relief and said "ah! thank God o! It's cold!". mama rolled up the sleeves of her shirt, and wiped the sweat off her brow as she walked into the humid airport. "welcome to Lagos!", she said as I scooted on my trunki.

ps:  incase you are wondering...yes, I've taken to calling my mummy "mama".

Disclaimer: the airport check in events mentioned in the text may or may not have happened to people we may or may not know. if it happened to you...then it's definitely coincidental. definitely.

xoxo