40 Came And All These Became Stress.....

●     Washing dishes

I am the fourth child of six children and the youngest of the three girls in my family. Cleaning up almost always fell to me once I was old enough to do chores. It became a getaway for me and made myself enjoy doing it. Everyone will be out of the kitchen the noise and scents of the cooking died down. The sink was below this huge double window. I would gaze out but not really looking at anything in particular because there was a storey building a few feet away.

I would sort the dishes out according to size and then as I began the terribly unimaginative task of washing the dishes I let my mind wander over stories I had read - I was the girl child who preferred to curl up with a storybook than stand for hours on end watching my mother cook, I just couldn’t be bothered - that took me to other countries, gave me a view into other peoples minds and lives. Sometimes, I would write mini-adventure stories in my head, I could see the images flash by. It was the one task I would do without complaints because it transports me to other worlds.

Now I have two girls 10 and 8 and I have taught them to clean up when the family is done eating. It is one of their main chores. But, for some reason, I suddenly can't stand washing and cleaning up dishes myself. I still do it but I feel grumpy when I do. It may be because I have been on my feet too long cooking. Or that I didn’t enjoy my meal because I had to do the cooking. Either way, when I am done cooking I cant wait to put my feet up. Somewhere in my mind, I tell myself... well they do have to learn to do chores at some point right? I am not being lazy. Funny thing is I miss that dreamy time... but doing that chore doesn’t hold the same spark anymore.

●     Sweeping

      There is a method to this chore that I enjoyed terribly as a young girl in boarding school several years ago. I happened to be asthmatic at that time but being in boarding school you can only escape work for so long. I do believe it helped me (personally) control my breathing and manage asthma attacks when I didn’t have my medication immediately available

     

     The times I remember sweeping was almost always under a huge flowering tree, with little or no grass from the friction of shoveling feet. We used medium length brooms and with every stroke of the broom, formed a pattern. Moving from one end of the assigned portion of land to the other end these lovely pattern formed waves across the field. I cannot explain what I liked about it. When I was done and looked at my work, it was beautiful, some other students found it frustrating that the tree had already started sprinkling flowers again. But, for some reason, I loved the way it looked even with the new drops on it.

     

     As it happens to most women my age, I am much heavier after having my kids. My middle Michelin is Jeep size. In addition, I happen to be heavily endowed in front. Bending halfway over to sweep for longer than 2 minutes, feels like putting a choke-hold on me. I am instantly reminded of what my body has gone through in childbirth as I try to move heavy things like the settee out of the way to get to the hidden corners. The pain that shoots through my lower back and then the sharp slapping down muscle contractions when I attempt to stand back up no matter how slowly. It may take the girls a while to get the hang of it - to clean as I do - but am not touching that broom. No, I am not.

●     Cooking Arwgh...

Did I mention earlier preferring to read? Well, there you go. But we have to eat, so I have to cook. One of the nasty things about cooking is that it piles up dishes and pots to be washed. Another nasty thing is that it takes hours. Am not even talking about the actual cooking hours. It the prep time. Prepping for everything.

●     Going to market.

●     Shred, clean, steam vegetables then store.

●     Boil the blended pepper dry and store

●     Clean, cook meats (chicken and turkey together, red beef together, ponmo on its own, if you indulge in other parts… intestines and all that I duff my hat)

●     Clean fish and store (fresh fish, frozen Titus fish and the likes, then smoked fish)

●     Then there is the pointlessly stressful soup like Ewedu...so much stress to this soup. The painstaking plucking of leaf separate from stem, the pre-cooking of it before the ijabé (yes I hear you say blender, but what about the day NEPA strikes! Which I think NEPA plans for me), then back on fire. Then most times the thing will just turn out flat. Forget potash… there is something not right about the Ewedu available right now. Even my old school mum has warned me about it.

●     Strain the stock of the chaff seasonings and store

●     Sort out other groceries.

Then the final cleaning up. I really praise women that enjoy this type of stress. My DNA just missed that thread. And no, I haven't burdened my girls with this just yet. I am not a monster, c'mon. This here is an adults job. But I am a good mother prepping them to take over. Saying I am preparing them for adulthood and becoming a "wife".

●     Tight or uncomfortable items like shoes and underwear

       I am a short woman. I am even shorter than my mother. Imagine that. I am 5 feet 4 inches, but I have big feet. I currently wear a size 42. Before I got married I was a comfortable size 40/41 depending on brand and shoe design. Then somewhere through my first pregnancy, I felt like I developed flat feet. You know how your shoes don’t fit because your feet are swollen most of the time, especially towards the end of pregnancy.

      

     I saw the reason why I couldn’t fit in my shoes and I believed my feet would return to normal after delivery. Ummm, was I so wrong! My feet had added a full extra inch to it. Nothing fit anymore. It was either a 42 or nothing. I have stubbornly bought sandals over the years that were a 41 wide fit. But I will always discover the discomfort not long after and will have to give them out. I have learnt that my feet have to be comfortable for me to function properly throughout the day. If it's not comfortable I am not squeezing into it.

     

     Uncomfortable bras. It's not worth the pain and discomfort it brings. That's all I have to say about this. Remember I said I am well endowed. A host of other things like a tight shirt, either across the bust or at the arms, skirts too tight around the hips, girdles (OMG!), it goes on. I can’t. I just can’t. End of discussion.

●     Excessive Makeup

 See ehnnn, to be fair I like to see women with flawless makeup and fluttering lashes.  But recently, the couple of times I had to do that I felt like I was wearing a mask and nobody could recognise me. It seemed like I was peeking through the eye holes of the mask to see the world. It's a lot like an out of body experience only it’s inside the body. Inside my body. I have a big laugh and I do not feel comfortable laughing out loud when I am heavily caked up because I feel like my mask will crack. It feels so unreal. To be honest, I will still glam up for a special event. But for my everyday look. For my normal life look. Eyeliners, Light powder/foundation, lip balm/gloss mascara (maybe). 

●     Weave-on extensions.

 I have a hairdresser and she is a gem! She’s fantastic at her job. She also recently added wigs to her range of products and services and she is amazing at it. Check her out @uphillswig on IG. However, this new me, I cant stand weave-on extensions on my head anymore. I actually have a very bad reaction to it now. Mild rash around my neck, it makes me hot, and my scalp itches like crazy. So no more weave-on extensions for me! Braids nko? I love braids. I wear braids most of the time. Maybe having gone natural I like to wear my own hair, in spite of greys taking over. I will still wear braids at any time, anywhere. But weave-on extensions and I have parted ways. I dare say maybe forever. Even as a wig. Urgh... I shudder at the thought.

While still on the subject of hair, my hair used to be one of the ways I expressed my creativity. I usually had on what could be said to be ‘notice me’ hairdos. Half braids half weave-on, loads of wooden beads, bright hair colour, afro, even Jerry curls. But in my 40's I just feel exhausted and do not even want that attention. Now, I like my hair toned down natural colours or as close to my skin colour as possible. Simple braids, no bright colours. I did try crochet braids and nope, it’s not for me. I tried it in different lengths. It didn’t have the comfort I crave for. I do not know how many more things I will be cancelling off my list as I grow older but so far I know that the main driver for all this is comfort. If it makes me uncomfortable or disrupts my comfort it’s out the window.

What about you? I know you are close to my age bracket if you are reading this blog. What changes have you noticed as you grow older and what are the things you rather not just allow to bother you?

AAA.

One life. One love.

Hey Lovelies: This Post is by AAA ( A guest on ''Our" Page)