How to survive the baby witching hour

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When my baby was younger, I experienced something ‘strange’. Every day, at around 6 pm, she would start fussing. She’d just get restless and cry herself hoarse.

Unknown to me, what we were experiencing is called the witching hour.

The witching hour was like a hangnail. It drained all life and joy out of my first days of motherhood. I often was on the brink of tears. Exhausted like a donkey in Mwea.

At those time I felt like auctioning her off to the highest bidder. But I was sure none of you wanted a screaming beauty.

So we braved on. Everyday. It was like waiting to visit the dentist. You know what’s coming and you can’t prevent it.  I got so used to it that I didn’t even notice when it stopped. But I dreaded it!

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Holes

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I’m a good girl by the basic standards. No, allow me to just say it this one time. I’m a good girl. I’ve never been drunk (does wine count?),  never smoked (not even weed) and never did the walk of shame.  I was proud of it all. Until I was not so proud of it.

Josh Harris is no longer a Christian. And he’s getting a divorce. I don’t know if you understand the weight of those two statements, but I can make it simpler. It’s like saying the pope is no longer catholic and he’s getting married. Although that wouldn’t be so bad.

It feels like my whole youth life was a lie. If you’re still using a yahoo email account, Josh Harris is (was) a pastor and an author. He wrote I Kissed Dating Goodbye and Boy Meets Girl.  For a Christian girl who believed Sidney Sheldon was evil and never read Mills and Boons, Josh Harris was my dating and sexuality compass.

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Stupidity and virginity

stock-photo-yolo-road-sign-you-only-live-once-concept-556147753.jpgYesterday, someone called me ‘old’.

I know him from my University days. There we were talking about children and spouses and the forgetfulness that comes with being a parent. And then it just hit us like bird poop on the head — we’re old!

Afterwards, I tried remembering the girl I was when we met. I was young, naïve, a little stupid and oh-so-thin. I was a third-year university student with a heart that was still healing and a promise not to love again for 3 years. I don’t know how I got off imagining that it takes hearts 3 years to mend. I said I was a little stupid, didn’t I?

If I met this girl today, I’d give her a long, long hug. I’d tell her to be her own best friend because people come and go. More often than not, they go rather than come. The person who’s the best friend could become a stranger who blue-ticks her on WhatsApp.

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