WHAT I WORE, WHAT MUMMY WORE

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I've often heard my mummy telling her friends how difficult she finds it to say "no" to people. At such times my jaw literally hits the floor and drool flows freely from my mouth as I try to count on the few digits God gave me, the number of "no's" I endure on a daily basis. Climbing up the stair gate to jump over? No Judah! Emptying the cutlery drawer onto the kitchen floor to make music with the awaiting pots and pans? No Judah! Eating a mushroom I've found in the grass? No Judah! Ok fine, just let me clean the loo with your toothbrush...that's a no then. Humph. Seems to come easy by my reckoning!

I'll just join the ducks in the river...... "NO JUDAH!!!!"

I'll just scoot down these steps then... "NO JUDAH!!!"

But this week I was witness to an event unlike any other in my 2 short years. There we were relaxing in the house after mummy completed her chores (she's on a new daily cleaning fad - let's see how long it lasts...) when mummy spotted a ladder leaning against the wall next door. Ladder...hmm..she thought. Next thing she jumped up. "It's the window cleaner! We need to get dressed and outta here Judah!"

You see, mummy had all but blown her remaining budget for the month after failing to amend her online groceries shop and getting two of everything. Window cleaning was a luxury she wasn't eager to stretch herself for now. Not when it was raining anyway...

Woohoo, no fence to scale this time! "NO JUDAH!!!"

Just thought I'd sneak through a hole in the bottom fence and pay the neighbours a visit.... "NO JUDAH!!!!"

She didn't want to tell the guy no though. She felt bad. So she decided to do a runner. That way he wouldn't clean the windows because she wasn't home. I've never seen her dress so efficiently and clothe me with such military timing. We flew out of the front door undetected and mummy felt triumphant. She drove to my sisters school. we killed time listening to some classical music to calm mum down as she searched for a comb or anything resembling such in the car. Yes her hair was a tangled mess. She found an Afro comb which was a godsend under the circumstances. She found a way to make it work. We picked MH and drove home confident the window man was gone. And indeed he was, not a ladder in sight.

Mummy opened the front door triumphantly only to spot a white envelope on the floor. She hoped in vain it was a winning cheque from postcode lottery, but ofcourse it wasn't. A lovely stamp across the front emblazoned with the cleaning company's name confirmed her worst fears. Inside was a lovely invoice for the window cleaning letting her know that payment would be gratefully received.

I'll just check myself out whilst you take your selfie #photobomb!........"NO JUDAH!!!"

I've found the perfect spot to watch TV from.... "NO JUDAH!!!!"

Moral of the story: just say no. Mummy is now training herself to say no by picturing me standing atop my high chair about to perform a stunt each time she needs to say no. She's calling it picture-your-toddler-doing-something-dumb-and-just-say-no therapy. We are working on a patent and courses should be available online and hopefully we'll be able to whittle down the competing publishers by using the method and have a book out in time for Christmas.

Right, I'm off to try something new. Gotta give mummy fresh material & all that.

Ciao,

Judah

welcome to may - even though we are fast hurtling towards the middle of the month! the last couple of weeks sped by and are now a mere blur in our memories. or rather mummy's memory! my memory is sharp - i'm only 4! nothing escapes me, mummy however is another kettle of fish entirely. she's nicknamed herself Dori from Finding Nemo. daddy always says if her head wasn't attached to her body she'd forget where she left that too!

may has been good so far. it has brought with it the sun - and for that we can only rejoice! bank holiday monday was a bit drab but by today, we were positively sweltering in the high 20s centigrade! so what have we been up to? well, in the spirit of getting out & about a bit more, mummy bought this amazing picnic blanket (her words, not mine!). she is in love and believes it shall increase her desire to go out & about. because it is pretty. and she likes pretty things. she got it from Great Little Trading Company after missing out on last year's edition that she loved so much but procrastinated on till they sold out. This year she wasted no time as soon as they had one of the 20% off everything days! she loves it because it's a good size, has waterproof backing, rolls up into a bag with carry handles, and is just so pretty! oh, and it's lovely to sleep on in the sun. #fact.

we went to a food festival on bank holiday monday and forgot the blanket at home! what a clever blanket - fulfilling it's purpose without even having to be present! mummy pretty much starved herself that morning in anticipation of a bbq'd burger or some other such bbq style meal. unfortunately for her, there was not a burger stall in sight. just all kinds of street food, whose prices were polar opposite to the container sizes. the food was tasty but as mummy had come prepared for a carb fest, she left needing to top up at home.

judah's been continuing to provide amusement as is his custom! mummy took us to the park to feed the ducks after a classmate's birthday party. (i tell you, the sun brings out a different side to my mummy! normally she can't wait to get home and bemoan how her social life consists solely of my social life. not so now - these days her optimism knows no bounds - i love you sun!) back to the park - we fed the ducks quite fine, but judah was keener to be at one with the river thames. "not on my watch!", said mummy - as she quickly took a picture, then rescued him from the fence. #priorities!
again, blanket wasn't really required as we just had a bag of crisps and rather dry bread. bread for the ducks, crisps for mummy to fuel up & keep up with judah!

oh dear, what's he up to now???

that's right - about to scoot down some steps...

today after church we were back in the same gardens, enjoying a lovely picnic lunch. judah wasn't as keen on the old ducks - more interested in going after people's water bottles and chasing unsuspecting kids. oh, and crying for my scooter each time he saw me on the move. mummy has promised she's getting him his own now. le blanket was definitely in full use today and i must admit it is pretty! "it looks like it has giant cupcake sprinkles!" i exclaimed.

now we want to keep the dream alive! we want to hit as many gardens and beaches as we can over the next few months with our picnic blanket! any suggestions?? we'd love to hear from you as i'm worried mummy will wind up just sleeping on the blanket in the back garden and call it a summer!

morayo-hope

xoxo

There's a strange noise - it's far away but insistent. It's coming closer. My throat. I think I'm choking. There's something digging in. I catch a whiff of something. It stinks. The noise is close now - I catch it. "Mummy! It's morning!".

My throat , why can't I talk - oh, it's an elbow happily nuzzled in that soft spot, digging deeper.

"Mummy!" Oh, there's that smell. It's her. And him. In my nose, literally.

"I need breakfast! Wake up mummy!"

I still can't open my eyes. I reach over for my phone - it can't be 7. I manage to force one eye open - it's 5:47am. What day is it? Is it Monday? Did I sleep through the weekend?

"Cmon mummy!"

"No!" I mutter, "go back to bed! It's still night time!"

"No it isn't! I can see the light. Is it time for me to put on my ballet shoes? Remember I have to dance!"

Damn you British summer time! The sunlight sure knows when to come up but the heat clearly doesn't!

I remove the offending elbow from my throat for the umpteenth time and like a Boomerang it returns. "Judah!"

No use, he's fast asleep. Like gone. Mouth wide open, facing me and emitting toxic fumes in the process. I thought baby & toddler breath was meant to be sweet. Another lie from the baby magazine centrefolds.

"Mummy! Ok daddy! Daddy, come downstairs with me!"

"No."

And he's the morning one.

I lie still. I remember a time. A time when I didn't know time on a Saturday. When being ready for anything before midday was a chore. The time of the Saturday morning lie in. The days when I'd clean the house late on Friday night so I could wake up super late and enjoy the breeze blowing through the whole place. Yes those days. I speak to Saturday Morning Lie In.

I apologise to her. I apologise for not fully appreciating all that she was, for now - she is no more. I look through the album of our time together, from childhood till 24th June 2011 when she had a sudden and untimely death. I was told time is a great healer, but the pain of her passing appears to be getting stronger with time. On days like today I feel it the most.

I clamber out of bed, one eye still stubbornly sealed shut, whilst a bright eyed and bushy tailed Morayo-Hope springs into action. Down the stairs she runs, shouting out her breakfast request. Once upon a time my boob was the breakfast (or silencer as I called it).

As I sit in the car park waiting for her to finish her dance / theatre class, I wonder if I should switch my eulogy and direct it at Saturday as a whole. Because I'm going to have all of 3 hours to do something non kid related before we race across town to a birthday party.

Oh. Judah starts nursery in September.

Forget it.

RIP WEEKEND.

It was good while it lasted.

**images from Sunday about to tuck into some Nandos! Yum!**

It was 1994. Our family had been in the UK for all of 6 months and I was slowly settling into school life the British way. With each day that passed the loneliness presented on a platter by this country began to eat away at me. I had tried in vain to fit in at school. I wasn't bullied as I had been in Zimbabwe for my skinniness. No, here I just didn't quite fit in. When you first arrive at a new school, you are a little bit like a new toy. Everyone is fascinated with you and curiosity abounds. A lot of kids had never met anyone from "Africa". Questions like "Do you have electricity there?" were sarcastically replied with "No, the villagers held up fire torches as the aeroplane sped down the runway during take off." I was disheartened by the general ignorance where it concerned anything outside the UK, European holiday destinations, sex, and American tv.

Soon there was nothing much to talk about. And as for fashion - forget that. I was only allowed to wear skirts, so with 90s being the jeans era I was well and truly out of sync with the cool kids. There I would be on non uniform day in a black pencil skirt and embroidered blouse whilst every other kid rocked up in levis with no belts - cos that was just sad- and doc martens. The girls loo became my domain, my diary my best friend, and self loathing an active pastime. I began to refer to myself as the loch ness monster. Each day was ended with a swift round up of things that had taken place that confirmed my ugliness and lack of belonging: did a boy look my way today, no. Did anyone compliment me, no. Did I spend lunchtime in the loos again? Yes. Yep, I'm repulsive. Why God did you have to create me?

The days my dad would take us to school, we would listen to the radio. On one such rare occasion, a song came on the radio that I couldn't but pay attention to. It had me at that little guitar and drum intro. Then he sang:

Could you be
The most beautiful girl in the world
It's plain to see
You're the reason that God made a girl

I was instantly taken. "It's plain to see you're the reason God made a girl." That's all that stuck in my mind for the rest of the day. Prince had told me I was the most beautiful girl in the world and that's all that mattered to me. In the spirit of taking baby steps, I decided I was the ugly duckling - a big jump from a monster - but one day I would be a swan. And one day some man would sing this song for me and in his world I would be the most beautiful girl. In the meantime I decided to concentrate on being the most beautiful girl on the inside - and earned myself the nickname "Mother Theresa" for going around befriending all the outcasts. Every so often that diary did come out & a picture depicting my hideousness would be drawn. But at least it wasn't daily, nor in the solitude of the girls loos.

Thank you Prince for using your gift. We never met, but for this one girl that cried on her house master's shoulder lamenting her existence as he awkwardly tried to reassure her that one day boys would be queuing up for a date (don't ask!), you made a huge difference. And when I tell my daughter the most important place to be beautiful is on the inside, I can say it with conviction, because I know it to be true. Thank you for the music. RIP.

The most beautiful girl in the world.

xoxo

Last week was a good week. It was a full week: I went back to school after the briefest of Easter holidays, mummy had an interview & baby shower to attend and Judah was looking for new ways to get mummy's pulse racing.

Let's start with me. I was pining for my friends - and ballet - so by the time Wednesday arrived I was well and truly ready to get back to school. Mummy however wasn't. She was an emotional wreck that day. She kept going on about how fast time was moving and that she couldn't believe it was my last term as a reception girl. She was close to tears as she waved goodbye to me at the door. I didn't get the whole drama. I was just so excited to be back at school and in my summer dress. Oh, and some of the mummy's and daddy's kept walking past mummy as they didn't recognise her with her new hairdo!

And so to mummy. With this mini depressed state she was in, she was struggling to get herself together for an all important interview for a role she hadn't even applied for directly. She was very excited but at the same time petrified. She felt out of her depth and very much out of touch with the business world after a year plus of being at home generally talking to inanimate objects & Judah.

So nervous was she that she decided to go to the bathroom for a quick pep talk after checking in at reception. As she walked out of the bathroom, a guy walked in and muttered "I thought these were the men's toilets??!". And pop that balloon of confidence! Mummy decided to just own it and smiled sweetly all the way back to reception - "he is not interviewing me, it's cool!" she figured. She managed to get through the interview without doing anything crazy (this point needs verification by video ofcourse), and we await the outcome.

Whilst mummy attended the interview, Jodie our amazing babysitter that looked after both of us at our old nursery looked after Judah. They went to a local softplay and mummy prayed she wouldn't find Jodie standing outside her interview venue holding out Judah and swearing never to do this again! Thankfully all went well. Mummy ended the week on a hunt for a nursery for Judah to attend in the hope it would help with his speech. So far, everywhere good is full. The only one with spaces left mummy with no reason to wonder why it had those spaces!! So the search continues!

At the weekend mummy hopped on a train and escaped to London to attend her oldest friend's baby shower. She says she'll blog about that separately as it was another "aha" moment for her. She came back lighter than air and decidedly more upbeat and jovial with a cornish pastie from the train station in her hand. On Sunday we hot footed it to church and Judah & I had tons of fun in our respective kids church rooms. Afterwards we were driven back to mummy's new favourite photo spot: ye olde green gate, for a quick session with the instagram husband, aka daddy.

It all feels a bit like a distant memory now as we are halfway through this week! Hope you're having a fab week!

I wore:

Lace Dress - Zara (old), similar here

Double Sided Jacket - La Redoute

Shoes - Zara, (old), similar here

Judah Wore:

Chinos - H&M

Jacket - Zara, alternative here

Shoes - Mothercare, alternative here

Tshirt - Zara (old)

Mummy Wore

Skirt - Zara, alternative here

Top - Zara, alternative here

Necklace - From a boutique in Paris, you could achieve something similar by making one using craft beads like these

Shoes - Aldo (old), similar here

Handbag - Vintage LV Beverley briefcase, sometimes available on Etsy or good vintage outlets

Morayo-Hope

xoxo

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The Art of saying "No"

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