March 01, 2017
First of all, I never had a problem with weight so I took it for granted that my body would change after having a baby. I actually thought I had escaped the common body- altering side effects of carrying a child because I was lucky not to have swollen feet, discolored skinned or a broken voice while pregnant. I however experienced post partum shedding months after with two big patches around my edges on opposite sides. Lol. Generally, I was slimmer during (the picture above was taken around my due date) and just after I delivered compared to a few months later when I really gained weight (breastfeeding didn't help).
For a long time, getting back in shape was synonymous with going to the gym. That entailed finding one nearby that was affordable and baby friendly. Just thinking about how impossible my requirements were considering my circumstances was enough to give it up.
This post is for people that feel stuck here.
The truth is you already know how to loose weight. Think about it. Between those times you unintentionally lost weight and what is common knowledge about weight loss, you have enough tips to get you started. So whatever I or anyone tell you about shedding the baby weight, your response will likely be "I already knew that".
But I felt this post was worth sharing because sometimes you know what to do but are not ready to do it. You know you are in that category when you complain but don't do anything about it. I've been there and if that is where you are, take your time. Where your body and belly is now is temporary. It is not your destination.
And if you know what to do but are trying to figure out how to make what you know workable for you, keep reading.
I started by making a list of everything I could think of about loosing weight. I titled it-"Loosing weight using what I know". My list had things like cutting out biscuits (I used to eat as many as 6 packs a week! Don't look so shocked lol! Find what you are over- consuming and cut it). It had things like counting in fruits and salads (I was eating this but I was also eating everything on top of it, lol. Like my husband would come and find the snacks bought for the whole house had disappeared). I also had my very laudable but unrealistic goal of conquering Immabeast's choreography of Beyoncé's Formation as exercise.
Didn't happen. Instead I discovered free work out videos on YouTube and that became the turning point for me. It eliminated finding a gym and membership fees, getting hawt (read "pricey") gym clothes that would have made the bulges even more apparent come to think of it, buying gym gear like a mat, trainers, and head/wrist bands (you know you have to look the part naa) and finally I could be as sweaty in whatever I want to wear or not wear while exercising.
Tip: When looking for a work out video, know there are several trainers online to pick from so if a guy with muscles like a body builder isn't working for you, find a female trainer or dance aerobics instructor. I preferred a female that coached and explained as she went along. Also find a workout with a duration and intensity that is sustainable for you. You don't want to put in all the effort required to loose all the weight in one work out. A half hour work out, 3-5 times a week is more doable. You don't want to over do it then get so sore the thought of working out scares you.
I also discovered fitness watches thanks to Sisiyemmie. There was one lying around at home so I started using it to motivate myself to take long walks. Because it counts my steps, I always look forward to clocking that 10,000 step mark. So I typically work out and get about 3000+ steps, take the stairs and add to that, then walk to the shops or through the park park behind my house with a walking trail to get my 10,000 steps in. It helps me keep active.
Tip: You don't need a fitness watch to do this. Walking for over an hour depending on your pace should give you similar results.
Then I cut down portion sizes. While pregnant hunger would hit me so suddenly, I would feel like if I didn't eat I wouldn't have energy. After I had the baby my portion sizes continued to rival and at times beat my husband's. I didn't realize it then but there were times I got so bloated and uncomfortable trying to finish the food on the plate as if, if it was on my plate, my assignment was to clear it. So I started listening to my body and stopped short of being full, retraining myself to leave food on the plate if I was getting full. I still eat whatever, just less.
Tip: Because I'd been at home, I didn't realize I was eating as much as 5/6 times a day. So trying to maintain three good meals a day is a good way to control eating. These days I follow the routing outlined for feeding baby- 3 meals a day, fruit and veg (salads) in between, a multivitamin and water. I am learning to love my health as I love hers lol.
Also, I started the lemon in warm/hot water with honey thing. I recently added ginger which gives that peppery taste as well as cucumber which just adds a great flavor. I use it as an alternative to slimming teas. At least with this one, you can see what you are taking in and still get the benefit of easy bowel movements and no bloating.
The rest of my list were things like actually using the girdles I bought to waist train, using an anti- stretch mark cream, not eating after 7pm and a reminder to keep staying away from fizzy drinks.
My results are not yet in but just getting my heart rate up and respecting my body, is such a boost already. The point really is that you don't need anything extraordinary to kick start your weight loss, you can do it with what you already know using what you have right now, where you are. For me I found doing it in my space, at my pace not just pocket friendly but more sustainable.
Hope this helps.
February 02, 2017
In the words of the author of Loving What is, Bryon Katie, reality is often kinder than the bad dreams (both the kind we see in our sleep or the ones we conjure in our heads) we allow terrify us. In reality, we are usually just lying on a bed or seating on a chair- doing fine! Patricia Omoqui summarizes it well when she said in her comment on Twitter- we can wake up any moment we choose!
I awoke in reality.
Everything looked all right in my surroundings.
I knew it was cold outside but I was snug underneath an insulated duvet, kept warm by a well functioning heater that was kindly regulating the temperature whether I was aware of it or not.
My body was well supported on a comfortable bed yet I was collapsing inside.
There was nothing in the room to terrify me yet I was acting as if I was still trapped in the bad dream- asleep.
I didn't want to be alone or go back to bed. By force of habit, I turned to prayer. The words I was feverishly saying didn't feel right, then I noticed I was actually annoyed!
I had had a full day. I had done everything as expected of me. I was tired and I deserved to close my eyes on my bed and sleep peacefully. Whish kain nonsense dream was that?
Any dream that wasn't serving me wasn't for me. Besides, I never felt God spoke to me through dreams. I was so pissed by now that I said aloud, "I demand a redream!" Away with this apparition- this False Evidence Appearing to be Real. In the words of my friend, Adunni, no apprentice devil was going to play with my head.
I still didn't want to go back to sleep but found something positive to keep my mind set on. I still prayed but this time I prayed not to be deceived by fear. And I did wake up the other adult in the house and let him hold me like a baby while I held myself together on the inside.
And I continued to shake like a leaf but I waited it out patiently because I knew my heart needed time to catch up with what I knew in my head- that just because it felt real didn't make it so and just because it was in my mind didn't mean I had to believe it.
Nothing bad had happened. I had only had a bad dream... and woken up.
@omonaikee @Omojuwa @renoomokri @obiasika @ikhide @WaleAfelumo nice...we can shift perspective and wake up any moment we choose ❤— Patricia Omoqui (@PatriciaOmoqui) February 2, 2017
January 13, 2017
When simple tasks like brushing my teeth or styling my hair became a battle of wills where I always lost to my guilty feelings that I was being a bad mother if I didn't respond to my toddler's often tearless crying, my (adult) husband weighed in on our codependent relationship and set my priorities straight.
As my little one continues to show more independence for instance when she is able to tilt and drink from her own cup or yank my breasts from their pockets to take what's hers lol, I find myself struggling with breaking the codependent habits we both formed during her totally dependent stages.
Then, I had to go everywhere with her including to relieve myself because she clung to me to the extent that I had to lift her onto my knees and use the toilet at the same time.
Till now, we haven't succeeded in getting her to sleep in her crib and so co- sleep but even that is not enough for my gugu. She still has to sleep skin to skin and no matter how many times I place her back on the sheets, she snuggles and wriggles until she finds my body heat. Now that she is stronger, she can jerk her body backwards when I try to adjust her, wringing herself from my hands before assertively climbing onto the body part she wants to spread herself over- my head!
My day used to revolve around her and simple things like taking a bath or washing dishes had to be scheduled around when she fell asleep or when her daddy came home from work. Until we discovered that she could be tricked into being happy in her own company if we put on baby rhymes for her to watch. But even that had its time limit.
l was becoming so limited that my sleep was suffering, my masters programme was suffering and I was not regaining the life I had before. All it took was a forlorn look and loud, long crying and my own independence was thrown out the door.
I was complaining during one of our conversations when my husband leveled a question at me. "Who is the adult in the relationship?", he asked, returning the invitation to my pity party.
His own idea of parenting was that I should ask myself who was served by my carrying her everywhere with me. Wasn't it me and my story that until I sacrificed myself, I wasn't loving my child?
His logic was sound.
It was to her benefit that she exercised the independence she was gaining from walking and taking herself places she wanted to go. I could even be subverting her confidence to venture out when I pulled her back because I couldn't be chasing her around to prevent her from going somewhere or disrupting my things lol.
It was to her benefit that she exercised the independence of having teeth and my on and off approach to weaning her off sucking milk because it was the main way I bribed her to sleep, stop crying or eat, was more about me.
It was also to her benefit that she exercised the independence she was displaying as she expressed herself by repeating new words like "bye" and "go" and responding with recognition to used ones by saying "Ka" when she heard the word "Quack" or "Rowwwww" when she heard the line "Row, row, row your boat" or "mmm mmm" for the silent letter "B" and "I" in the rhyme that spelt B.I.N.G.O before retracting one letter each per round. So her tearless crying or fearless tantrum throwing when I repeated "NO" while taking away things she shouldn't play with, didn't warrant any guilty feelings.
And I didn't have to tie myself to her cradle strings. I could wash the dishes while she waited then get to her while my bath waited its turn too.
All in moderation.
One at a time.
January 09, 2017
On the post on Bellanaija introducing Toke Makinwa's book, #OnBecoming, my attention was drawn to a comment from a person under the name Hmmmmmm, who said she had been Toke once and had written about her bad experience presumably in a marriage and even secured a publishing deal. She said her father then read it and although she didn’t intend to hurt him (maybe she didn’t mind some other person getting hurt), she inadvertently hurt her father by it in some way. He then advised her to let it sit for a year and if she still felt like doing it she could go ahead. She took his advice and a year later the book title and content had changed because she was a different person- healed.
About a year ago, I wrote a story about a harrowing experience I went through. It was so internally harrowing I needed the whole world to hear. I needed something large enough on the outside to make up for what was eating me on the inside. I was so inconsolable one person couldn’t console me; I needed to tell the whole world about it.
It was a “must tell” as in the words of Toke. Like Tiwa Savage's song I also felt “If I start to talk the thing wey I don take my eye see, we no go end”. E no go end because I wouldn’t let it end. If the whole world could really line up, I would go down the line of everyone in the world at least everyone in my world or just people in my life repeating the thing wey my eyes don see.
How ridiculous? They probably are also looking to recruit me into their own line of hired mourners who can pity them for all the things wey them eyes too don see.
But this is what pain is- ridiculous.
As ridiculous as it now sounds to me, I wrote my story for a short story competition. What better way to use the pain if not to get something out of it? My own version of the story would get heard at the same time I would get a cash prize. That money would be used for a good cause. Now that I replay those motives it was almost like I was justifying a bad thing like stealing from a rich man by saying I would give the money back to the poor who deserve it more or cleanse it by tithing a tenth of it to the church.
Several months later, a book got into my hands. It had been written by someone I knew and in it she wrote all about her daddy issues and husband issues. I read the short book in one seating. It was full of anger and questions I couldn’t answer for her. Anger and questions meant to be directed at somebody else. Another case of what we cannot say/confront for whatever reason that rationalizes not saying/confronting it, ending up as sickness in our bodies eating us alive or angry words that will in turn create more anger as people react to them and even more anger as we don’t get the desired response.
I felt the book didn’t add value; there was nothing in it to learn just anger. It was a “How to be angry when your father disappoints your mother as a child and in adulthood when your husband disappoints you” book. Now this anger would be passed to another generation. A wife’s anger at her husband would become a daughter’s anger at her father just as her own anger at her father was in response to what she felt was mistreatment of her mother. Another generation would form another link in the chain of a generational pattern of daddy issues.
I thought about my own story as I read on. As if on cue, an email from the competition’s organizers flashed on my phone screen as I finished reading. It said my story had not been shortlisted. Was it a coincidence that on the same day minutes apart from reading that story, I was getting a message preventing the publication of mine? Even though it was the very thing I thought I wanted and the thing I thought would bring closure, God who knew it was healing I wanted, was kind enough to show me this wasn’t the way to it.
The judges too must have thought it was another how to be angry book. But it didn’t register then. I still believed it was a must tell to end all must tell stories of private pain and public gossip. I still believed it until Toke’s book happened.
Like the other book, I read hers. Again it was there- daddy and hubby; pain and anger. It wasn’t my story but it was my anger, my rant as though written by another person then put in my hands to judge. I was brutally honest about this my book- it was another diary of a mad black woman!
Vicariously through Toke’s work I could see what it would have been if I had done it- medicating pain with book sales and titles, convincing myself I had won. And it suddenly was not enough. What an empty victory it would have been for me.
I knew that now because I was beginning to taste the victory that comes from really healing. I recognized it in the final chapters of Toke’s book where she recognized pain as her teacher to teach her about herself and anger as her real enemy preventing her from learning. If I was a victim, I was only the victim of my making- the Heroine, Martyr and Saint all rolled in one.
Suddenly it was not the must tell. All I wanted to tell the world, my world and people in my life was to rid themselves of this consuming anger that destroys.
And I did in this must tell- here.
It’s a must read.
December 21, 2016
Emotional pain is the worst. I was speaking to a friend the other day and we were reflecting on the abundant examples in our experiences of people who continue to talk about things that happened to them ten, twenty, fifty years ago, ourselves included. The conversation ended on the note that it is good to get over things quickly. It ended there because it was the easier way out of our problem of not getting over things quickly.
In the same way it is easy to say all we have said about Toke’s book, On Becoming, because that’s where it ends. We are done after we have had our say. What is harder for us to do is what she did- she “unbecame”, the documentation of which is the singular redeeming factor of her so called “must tell”. Never mind that the writing was hardly novel, the contents sensationalized and pages too few and dedicated again to too few chapters of her life; in it she unbecame the victim of her story. A version that had justified the anger that while keeping her eyes peeled on what everyone else had done was blinding her from seeing what she herself had become.
The expression “making lemonade out of lemons” pricked my ears as I watched Toke explain the reason for the book on her vlog. It was not the only thing she said, just the one that unsettled me because these days we have canonized revenge by throwing around mantras like “the best revenge is your paper”. Is it?
Isn’t the best revenge that you are not seeking it? That your being somebody deserving of love and (fill in the blank) isn’t in your paper or in any other evidence of success? Are we that egocentric that everything that happens that we don’t like is blown into something that should be avenged and everyone we meet that doesn’t agree with us is reduced to a rival- an enemy of progress?
That’s how we have demonized prayer by turning anyone we cannot control into enemies that “Baba God” will punish. Will he?
Isn’t the reality that no one person or situation is ours to control? Doesn’t it almost seem like all our pain in life is trying to get us to that point? But not only do we give God memos on how to do his job, we dare ask him to be complicit in our self deceit of being in control of him, what he does and who he punishes.
Pain -even the worst- wherever it exists in our lives, is there to help us face a reality we don’t want to see and accept. A reality anger quickly leaps to our rescue to camouflage for self preservation. And while we hold on to the anger, addicted to the crutch it gives us to justify even the unreasonable reasons why we should continue to be angry, it grows unrestrained, feeding on us. Anger is the nemesis of the person who holds it and it is so deceptive, it hides behind who we are- “I am angry” and what we own – “my anger”.
Until we can unbecome and see how we are using those stories we rehash to protect ourselves from reality and until we can uncover what we hide from ourselves when we shift the blame, we will continue to be deceived by the anger that we were seating down jeje and (fill in the blank) happened and if not for (fill in the blank) that caused it, our lives would have been perfect otherwise.
Thank God Toke’s book was a good example of unbecoming this anger that is unbecoming of us or she would have wasted her money cheapening her life’s experience into news headlines for a couple of comments and bundle of notes, trying to convince us that she is fine now that she has one more title – published author- and is laughing her way to the bank.
That is if she is.
December 16, 2016
I was planning a trip and a friend offered to drop me off at the train station but by the time we were ready to leave our houses, hers to pick me up, I had my doubts about meeting the train. So I did the most sensible thing and called her being more experienced than me. "T", I said, "are you sure we won't miss the train? There is another time slot I can take after all I haven't bought the ticket." Being inexperienced with the process, I was worried I would need time to buy one and still find my platform. "We will make it", she assured me, "I am leaving the house now, it won't take me long to get to you." I looked at my infant and the thought of waiting at the train station in the cold for another hour till the next train bothered me. I went downstairs.
True to her word, she had arrived quickly and on spying me, drove up. "T", I asked again, "do you really think we will make the time?" "We most certainly will not", she replied this time. I blinked back in shock at how sure she sounded. The reality of the long wait ahead and the cold dawned on me as I struggled to shake my disappointment. For a brief second I felt my anger. If I hadn't been convinced, I would have waited and then ridden the bus to the station for the next train. Why did she make me set out now if she knew I would miss this one? (She likely hoped I wouldn't miss it but let's stick with how I felt at the time to get my point).
A day later, I had a light bulb moment where I realized my actions in that experience were a case study of times I have made decisions in the past by depending on other people to decide for me. The transaction brought into focus different times I had doubted my instinct because I trusted someone who I felt knew what was either the best or not the worst for me, to act in my best interests.
In the case above, I ignored my uneasiness and felt that because someone had more experience they knew better. It then came to me as a surprise that even though she knew what I wanted was to get to the station on time to meet my train, what she wanted was to drop me off but on her own time to still be able to meet up with other commitments.
If I were less naive I would have seen that what I wanted was a ride but not at the cost of missing the train or keeping my baby in the cold or running up and down with heavy bags and a baby trying to get to ticket and platform and train in a hassle. What she wanted was to give me one but not at the cost of missing other commitments if she waited.
The lesson I have been missing that has made me fall victim to more harsh and costly transactions in the past is that underneath what everyone does for you is a motive they need for themselves to be able to do it. What they are giving you is based on their motive and while it may serve you it isn't because of your motive. And sometimes it will not serve you, and you will go back to them and say "this thing we did has caused this problem for me", but if they are the insensitive type, they will say "own your choice, don't blame me for it". Then you will be left to pick up the pieces because the consequences have become your problem, not theirs. And you will blame them for getting you into this tight corner. You may even feel they owe you after all you did what they wanted you to do.
The shock for you who is experiencing the state of naiveté is that in your honest of hearts, you were truly convinced by them and depended on them to know and do what was best for you but the one who decides is the one whose interests are served.
Now my friend isn't a selfish person at all, she was risking missing her commitments and left her babies and husband to help me. In fact you can look at it another way and say I was the compliant one who didn't share my true concerns and speak up about them.
And I have been compliant in those decisions I see in the past where I didn't speak up or if I did, I didn't stand up for my interests. In all of those scenarios including this one, it was me who knew what I needed and it should have been me who I entrusted to decide what was in my best interest rather than place that responsibility on people to do what only I could and should do.
When we got to the station, there was a third train leaving in twenty minutes to a different stop but en route mine. I had enough time to get tickets and survey my environment without keeping my baby too long in the cold.
It all worked out in the end.
In a sense, it always can and it always does.