I’m writing this post from my car. This is a social distancing attempt for Mbali to get used to not seeing me around often. I must say, I’m battling over here. I don’t write as much anymore because I’m in a position where I’d rather sit and watch Peppa Pig with her than write. I can’t drive out for a quick coffee to quickly finish this post because we’re still on lockdown. So I’m here, chilling in the garage. Where I can here her cry. Basically torturing myself.

I’m realizing now that having Mbali has actually turned me into a big cry baby. I can’t stand hearing her cry. Seeing her cry is just the worst. When she’s asleep and starts fidgeting, I pick her up (before giving her an opportunity to cry first) and try to ‘make her feel comfortable’. I’m too attached. And I’m realizing now that I’m high-key spoiling her and making her nanny’s job extremely difficult.

We were at my granny’s over the weekend. Being there made me realize that by spending pretty much the whole day with Mbali, I have taken away her ‘independence’. She wouldn’t play with her cousins or watch cartoons like she usually does. Whenever I was out of sight, it wouldn’t take more than five minutes for her to notice that I’m not around and start crying. And remember, her cries go from 0 to 100 really quickly. I (being the overly protective mom that I am) would run to her rescue and most likely give her the boob to calm her down. That’s great because we’re bonding. But all of this is not going to be possible in a few weeks’ time.

Mbali’s aunt suggested that I adopt and implement a routine that would be similar to the one I’ll be on when I go back to work. Basically, I need to leave the house every morning and come back late in the afternoon every day. That feels like a mammoth task. Torture. Especially with nothing to do. I can’t go to the gym, the movies or the spa. Please send suggestions for killing time. It sounds ridiculous and I don’t want to do it but I know that if I don’t, I’m going to be driving back home during lunch to breastfeed every day. Something I won’t be able to sustain unless I wake up and decide to be a stay-at-home mom (an idea I’m flirting with a bit too much
lately).