Ten confessions of a real wife / mum

I am first of all a wife and then a mother of 3 (to be honest, my first confession should probably be that I am first of all a mother of 3 and then a wife). My assumption is that the correct order will be reset to the default position when the kids leave home.

Confession #2:
Sometimes I feel like running away. This is nothing to worry about though as it doesn't happen so often (only at 6pm everyday when I have to figure out what to cook for dinner). The good thing is that I'm quite mature so I don't give in to every whim. Moreover, the feeling turns into exhilaration once I've nailed dinner or ecstacy when I remember that I've got some leftovers that I can serve for dinner! #winning

Confession #3:
I take my time when I've gone out alone and left the kids (especially the 3 mth old) with my husband at home. I usually expect a call within an hour because my newborn has refused to drink the EBM I've left with my husband and even though I sound like I'm concerned and hurrying back home on the phone, I'm not. I figure that when she's hungry enough she'll drink from the bottle and I'm also usually happy that dad is feeling the heat of looking after a newborn without anyone else to help him. I see it as a little payback for the expression of pure joy he usually has on his face when he's merrily signing out of the family home to hang out with his mates without the burden of a wife and kids.

Confession #4:

95% of the time, I would persist in completing a small chore before attending to my crying 3 mth old(depending on the pitch of the cry). I like to think that I'm passing on life skills so that she realises that the world doesn't revolve around her...i.e. people are not going to drop whatever they are doing to attend to her all the time...i.e. mummy has also got other things to do asides from feeding and rocking her. Also, if she happens to cry when i'm making a lasagne, she had better not choose to do it while I'm making my bechamel sauce as I have't figured out what happens if I leave the sauce midcooking to attending to a crying baby. It hasn't been a chance I have been willing to take at 6.30pm on a weekday so I am always going to finish cooking the bechamel sauce before attending to anybody else. 3% of the time, if dad is home, he graciously comes to pick the baby up while i finish up the chore. 2% of the time, the pitch of the cry requires that I drop whatever I'm doing and pick her up.

Confession #5:

I think that we are really really good parents and that my kids are always well behaved therefore, any bad behaviours have been learned from other kids at daycare or school.

Confession #6:

I buy his & hers snacks when I really like something and would prefer not to share. I also prefer that my husband gives the kids some from his. I reckon I've done more than my part of sharing when they were in the utero. However, I usually sneak behind him and eat a little bit from his as well. #Shhhh

Confession #7:

I dislike parents who let their children be unruly. I also have to overcome the intense desire to smack/pinch these children. 

Confession #8:

Anytime I've taken the kids somewhere and we're 5 mins into the drive home, I always have a panic attack because I think I've forgotten one of the kids so I do a quick glance at the back of the car to do a head count. This didn't happen when I only had 2 kids.

Confession #9:

I get ticked off when my husband refuses to take the kids out shopping and yet expects me to take them shopping. Hello? Do men get stressed handling any number of children in the shopping centre; rushing through the checkout to take one of them to the toilet for a wee only to get back into the shop and realise that they now want to make a poo; dealing with a tantrum when one kid has spied a biscuit/candy that you are determined not to buy them; having to rush to the parent's room to change a nappy and feed the hungry tired kids? Oh, welcome to the club of human beings. We also feel the same way, so we wouldn't mind leaving the kids at home when we go shopping too. If it seems like we know how to look after the kids better, it may be because we've have had more practice and you know what they say, "practice makes perfect".

Confession #10:

I would like to be rewarded for being a good mother and a wife by being treated to a spa and massage once in a while (where a while = 1 week). I am well aware that there are millions of mothers who are alcoholics or just lazy and can't be bothered working or taking care of their family or feeding them vegies so I think I'm doing a fantastic job. I am also aware that my husband is a good dad and husband so I reward him with a nice lunch and dinner everyday.

Stolen Diamonds...The greatest heist ever

 
image source: www.timesunion.com 

Some weeks ago, the entertainment world was abuzz with news of the Cannes million dollar jewellery heist. Any time this sort of theft is pulled off, readers can expect the media to refresh our memories with the biggest diamond heists of the past. Some recent experiences caused this event to remind me of a heist far greater and more serious than stealing physical diamonds.

One of them was reading an amazing book called The Diamond Polishers in which the writer refers to children as diamonds - valuable, priceless, beautiful and individually unique but requiring to be cleaned, polished and shaped so their brilliance can be seen. It would change the way I viewed children forever.  In the book she also writes about how children like diamonds have to be protected from being damaged, broken or lost (www.themotherhoodproject.org.au). What an amazing way to view children and an enormous responsibility we have to protect these precious gifts.

The second experience was watching a documentary called The Fighters on CNN, which was based on the battle of a woman in the Philippines dedicated to rescuing children and women that have been trafficked as sex slaves. Yet another experience was watching some video clips in a Women's conference in Sydney by the A21 Campaign that showed little girls as young as four who had been born to trafficked women and were already been exploited to perform oral sex on men!  As a mother of 3 girls 4 years and under, I am still sickened to my gut. It's difficult to digest these news and to know that human beings are capable of such crimes against children. It is also hard to imagine what these children and women have been subjected to... children just like mine and yours. Women just like me.
The more I thought about it the more I couldn't shake the thought that these ARE the stolen diamonds and every one of them needs to be rescued. When I think about the enormity of the crime and how hard it is to fight this battle, I feel extremely helpless. I know there are organizations that are dedicated to fighting this battle, but sometimes I think, "Wow, they're doing a fantastic job. I wish there was something I could do". However, apart from sending a donation, I wasn't sure what else to do. Then the other day I read 21 ways to get involved in stopping Human Trafficking (http://www.thea21campaign.org/content/21-ways-to-get-involved/gjf4co ). So I finally decided to do my own part. I will pray. I will blog about it. I will partner with these organizations to offer whatever I've got - money, time, talent, etc...

The golden rule is to do to others as you would have them do to you...If we or our children were in the shoes of these children/women, what would we want people to do for us? How much effort would we want them to put into rescuing us? We should do the same. The cause is urgent and we cannot afford to slack or be afraid and do nothing.  I look into my daughters' eyes and my heart burns within me. My children are my precious jewels. All children are precious jewels. None of them were intended as sex slaves. Every one of them was intended to be jewels in this world and on God's crown. Let's do all that is possible to make sure that these stolen diamonds are recovered. We were born for such a time as this.

Here are some articles to provoke you:

The face of Modern Slavery
Lost Boys
How tourists can help stop child sex trafficking
10 things men and boys can do to stop human trafficking

Big blessings in small everyday packages

At the end of last year, I was taking stock of the year gone by. I thought about the good things that had happened and I made a list of my blessings. Things that featured on this list included getting a new job, a successful overseas trip, a healthy family, etc. The big and obvious things and they were about a third of a page long. I felt blessed. Then I remembered that there had been a few tears or depressing days here and there and thought it might be worthwhile making a list of the things that made me cry or sad. There were only four that I could think of. The amazing thing was that apart from my the passing of my father-in-law, in hindsight the intensity of my distress at the other three items seemed a little misplaced when viewed alongside the third of a page long list of blessings. While holding on to that thought, I figured it might be even more interesting to make a list of things that made me happy, or smile, or excited, or even laugh. My list quickly got out of hand (or page) because they included everyday things like singing opera in the shower, watching peppa pig with my girls, dancing to the madagasca sound track, waking up to a clean crisp kitchen with the sun shining through the window, a cup of cold milo, the sound of my girls coming down the stairs, Iva trying to feed herself, Izabelle asking me to tickle her, watching my husband cook....I think you get my drift. And yes, this list was about three times my original list of big and obvious blessings. But hang on a minute, aren't these the big blessings? They are obvious but because they are everyday blessings, we get used to them and then we take them for-granted. AT least, I do. I reckon these everyday blessings were purposely allotted to each day to make the hard times that much easier to deal with. For example, I've had a bad day at work and I remember my girls fighting to give me a kiss in the morning. That helps me get through the day. I have changed the way I count my blessings. Everyday presents huge and gigantic blessings that totally overshadow and swallow up the little stresses that pop up here and there. Who cares about the bills when the birds are singing on my window sill and there's a cold cup of milo and toast + butter + honey to be had? And why worry about the fact that my car service is overdue when the kids are singing along to the car radio? What are your big blessings disguised in small everyday packages?

Diaries of a lifetime

20 January 1981

Dear Diary,
What an amazing day this is! I have just had my first child. A daughter. My own life-size doll to cherish and love; to dress up and sing silly songs with; to feed and bathe; to rock to sleep; and to turn her into a mini-me.I shall call her Nancy.
-Entry by Mother of Nancy

15 February 1990

Dear Diary,
What a fantastic day this is! I just got my first diary and I intend to write in it every day of my life. I have a penpal and she lives in India. It is amazing to have my own very friend on another side of the world.
-Entry by Nancy

18 March 1992

Dear Diary,
What a terrible day I had today! I fought with my best friend aka Okpokoro mbe. I am not sure if we will remain friends.
-Entry by Nancy

27 April 1994

Dear Diary,
What an annoying day! My friends Kana and Chukwuemeka drew a terrible caricature of me and said and I quote "it's good to have a passport". I reported them to Oxy and he had them punished. However, he mentioned that the "passport" looked a lot like me. I couldn't believe it. The big ogo and protruding bottom lips? What a joke.
-Entry by Nancy

15 May 1997

Dear Diary,
What a close shave I had today. My mom found a love letter in my bag but I negotiated with her and she decided not to show my Dad. That would have been the end of life as I know it. Phew.
-Entry by Nancy

22 June 1999

Dear Diary,
What an amazing year this is going to be! I am a freshman at Uni and I live at the hostel. Imagine all the grown up things I can do...lectures, boys, parties, oh this is cool man.
-Entry by Nancy

10 July 2000

Dear Diary,
Today I fell in love with the guy of my dreams. He is tall, funny, caring, well built and his eyes...they can woo even the most ferocious of females.
-Entry by Nancy

16 August 2002

Dear Diary,
What a boring day! It's fair to say that my near future will be full of boring weeks upon boring weeks and I hope I don't die of boredom. I have moved back home from Uni and all my friends are not in town. How can a girl survive like this? I can't wait to graduate and own my life.I hate staying at home, there's just so much work to to do and nothing fun happening.
-Entry by Nancy

4 September 2004

Dear Diary,
I can't wait for today to end. I am far away from civilization in a hot and arid location doing my youth service. I am broke, electricity has just failed, it is burning hot, there is zero wind, a million flies are flying about, my phone has been stolen and I miss my fiance. When will this end? There is no end in sight, just endless months of living in this windless furnace. I can't wait to be done with this service and move back home. Oh, home, the comfort of an air conditioner and meals cooked at the right time. These thoughts are not helping me right now.
-Entry by Nancy

9 October 2006

Dear Diary,
My dreams have come true today. I just married my best friend of 6 years and the future is bright. Words cannot express how happy I am today. *sigh*
-Entry by Nancy

17 November 2008

Dear Diary,
I'm sorry it's been a while, but I have been going through a difficult pregnancy. But today, I am glad to inform you that I have just had my first child. A daughter. My own life-size doll to cherish and love; to dress up and sing silly songs with; to feed and bathe; to rock to sleep; and to turn her into a mini-me.I shall call her Zabby.
-Entry by Nancy

30 December 2011

Dear Diary,
What a happy sad day I had today. We went to visit my best friend but my Mom wouldn't let me sleep over. I was not happy when we came home but I am happy now because Dora the Explorer is on TV. I love watching Dora.
-Entry by Zabby

You get the idea don't you? We all have a past and it is full of memories. Some happy. Some sad. The surprising thing is that when you rewind your thoughts and feelings to when you created some of the memories that pull at your heartstrings today, you were actually not having a good time then. I miss my high school years. I miss the lack of responsibility I had when I was young without a care in the world. I miss those days during my youth service when I was cash broke but rich in the experience of a new location and culture.
Today the sky was blue and there were pretty fluffy clouds floating about up there. The sun was out and the wind was playing with the trees. I enjoyed a play date with a friend and I enjoyed watching "singing in the rain" over and over again with my girls.
I'm getting it now, aren't I? I am trying to enjoy "today" so that when I look back on "yesterday" I will be satisfied in knowing that I didn't let it sneak past me. And if a certain "today" falls into the "bad day" category? I pray that I would be able to pick out something to enjoy and be thankful for - even if it's just for gift of being able to 'see' the clouds and 'feel' the wind.

The stinky thief that came to Brisbane

This year started like many others - amid amazing fireworks, high hopes and happy new year wishes. One thing set it apart from other new years though - it was a rainy and overcast one. We handled the rain well. Some of us traveled to other states where there was a lot of sunshine to spare, some traveled overseas to frolic in the snow and others stayed behind to employ their umbrellas.

Before we could breathe in and out five hundred times, the Christmas/new year holiday was well and truly over and it was time to head back to work. This was when we realized that something was just a little bit 'off' about the weather. The rain hadn't taken a breather. The Christmas tunes on the airwaves gave way to more serious news about flooding in the Northern part of Queensland. We watched the news, we felt bad, sent up some silent prayers for those affected, donated our money, went to bed, woke up, and went to work. Life continued as normal.
No one had any idea that the watery thief was making its determined way to us.

We were still recovering from the after effects of the Christmas and new year food and trying to remember our work passwords and job descriptions when Toowoomba was hit. It was a 100% natural disaster, much like the ones we have always seen in the TV happening in Asia, South America, the US, etc, only it was just 2 hours away from us. Flash floods from nowhere swept through tranquil Toowoomba in the middle of the day and took cars, houses, animals and people. We couldn't believe it. We were still reeling from the shock of what we were seeing when the forecast that the waters were coming to Brisbane was delivered.
Brisbane went into overdrive. Reactions were varied, no one was sure if they were safe or not. From what we saw in Toowoomba and the Lockyer Valley, it looked like Brisbane could be submerged with its residents clinging to their roofs for dear life. Some of us had no idea how to even get up on our roofs. Everyone was glued to the news. The waters kept drawing close, the rain kept falling and most people were asked to leave work and go home to do what they had to do to stay alive. That was when it dawned on some of us that we were actually in danger. Brisbane was going to get flooded. It might be as bad as 1974. Many of us weren't even born in 1974!

Almost everyone headed to the shops to stock up on 'stuff'. Some of us had no idea what to buy in such an emergency, so we bought perishable stuff like roast chicken. Now we know what to buy - batteries, torches, candles, gas, AM battery operated radios, long life milk, canned food, bread, bottled water and car phone chargers.
Our pantries were stocked, so all we could do was wait. wait and wait for the flood. After waiting and watching the news, we started sandbagging our houses, moving stuff to higher grounds and then waiting some more.

Then we saw it. The flood had arrived. It was brown, smelly and thick with mud and stuff. We observed it for a while. It wasn't the crazy, deadly flash flood we saw in Toowoomba and the Lockyer Valley. This one was seeping slowly and steadily into town. It was rising quickly too. Our backyard became a river and we decided to remove ourselves and go to a safer neighborhood. The river was meant to peak around 4am and some were determine to hold a vigil and see what the flood gets up to. Others were not as determined and succumbed to sleep after midnight. Morning came and we could feel the tension and anxiety in the air. What happened overnight?

Well what happened was that some houses had been totaled and were submerged under this smelly thick brown water. Others were only partially submerged but totally damaged as well. Most of us had some share in the visitation of the flood but a few suburbs in Brisbane escaped unscathed. It was like they were in another country.
In about two days or so, the flood decided to exit. But it left some of its belongings. The thief had come to steal, kill and destroy. It stole homes that people had spent their lives building, it stole business built on years of sweat and hard work, it destroyed cars and belongings and killed some people. Queensland was wounded and her sister states rallied around her. Yes, our beautiful things had gone and we were left with the mud and devastation, but we were strong and the One in us would not be overcome by what was happening around us. Brisbane rose up and began to clean up. Strangers became like relatives, crying together, cleaning up together, bringing food, laughter and hope to dark, sad hearts. We would not be beaten down.

The floods have become a defining moment for a lot of Queenslanders. There are the 'before the flood' family members and 'after the flood' survivors. For some, life will never be the same again because they have lost family members or all their possessions. Yes, there is still a long way to go in the recovery process, but we are determined to get there and our latter days will be better and stronger than our former days.

Here's to all those who came out to crush the defeat that the flood had intended under their feet, help clean up Queensland and help her get back up on her feet. Your labour of love will never be forgotten!
AUSSIE! AUSSIE!! AUSSIE!!! OI! OI!! OI!!!

An averagely good day

My alarm slept in and I woke up late. Like a giant Kangaroo, I leapt from the bed straight into the shower.
Dressing upping, 'breakfasting', daycare bag-packing and good morning cuddling for baby were crammed into 12 minutes. 2 extra minutes, nay 3, were employed for hello-ing and goodbye-ing the hubby, kissing baby and sprinting across the road to the bus stop.
I made the bus - ticket in hand, hair brushed, face devoid of makeup and ears devoid of earphones. Makeup was applied on the bus (as usual) and a decision was made to defer earphones until lunch time.
The day was looking good already. No one was sharing the bus seat with me; the sky was blue with blobs of white clouds; the sun was not too far away and the streets had been kissed by a drizzle of rain; the wind was playing with the leaves and the bus was making strides in good time. The wind reached out for me when I got down at the bus stop, the trees swayed in greeting and the sun was smiling as I walked to my office. Yes, there was no doubt that this was a good day.
The day was going to be spent playing, nay, working on budgets and answering a lot of questions.
Sure enough, budgets and emails were part of this good day, morning tea, lunch and afternoon tea followed each other almost too closely. A sudden sniffle became a good excuse to avoid the gym and head home for a comforting cup of hot chocolate.
Cuddles from baby; hugs from hubby; a 30 minute dose of the Flinstones show; 1 episode of the In the night garden kid's program and a hot dinner were only 2 bus rides away and a welcome way to conclude such a day.

Help! There's a monster in my kitchen!

I woke up the other morning and was greeted by a monster that was happily sitting on the kitchen sink. Here's what he looked like:



I almost ran out of my house screaming and pulling my hair, but being the mature woman that I am, I calmed myself down, went and had breakfast, watched some Seinfeld, had a bit of a read from one of my many half-read books before venturing back to the kitchen area. Believe it or not, the 'head in the sand' technique worked and I realized that I had exaggerated the monster's size because this time he looked more like this:



oh and he was very well behaved because he didn't mind being stuffed away in the dishwasher.

I had been on holidays from doing dishes for the past 10 months because my mother-in-law was visiting us and she helped out with the dishes (and many more things). It was such a relief coming home from work without worrying about who was going to do the dishes or if there would be enough dishes to justify using the dishwasher.

Trying to remember how life was before I ever had to do dishes is much like trying to remember a past life on another planet. I recall that I was about 9 or 10years old when my mom excitedly informed me that I was going to take on some responsibility in the family. Boy, was I impressed with myself. I felt like I had landed a new job. Previously, I was always too young to be in the kitchen and much disliked being shooed away from that area. Now I was responsible for doing the dishes after lunch. What an important task that was. Needless to say, the novelty of my new assignment wore off after a few weeks and I began to learn that most times, responsibility couldn't be shaken off your shoulders just because you no longer found it enjoyable.

As we all know, the older we get, the more we have to take on, so very soon, I happily relinquished the lunch dishes to my younger brother and took on the heavier burden of the breakfast and dinner dishes. How heavy this was! I quickly discovered that dinner was usually the most elaborate meal of the day because there were always millions and millions of plates, pots, pans, spoons, and other strange utensils lying around and waiting to be washed. In our days, using the dishwasher was out of the question because it spoiled the children. So it was usually with a solemn and despondent disposition that I ventured into the kitchen every evening after dinner.

Life got better when I became much older because I now graduated into making either lunch or dinner so my younger siblings now took over the dishwashing role. How sweet! I didn't think twice about using two extra spoons even if it was unnecessary just to pay them back for the years they sat and watched Sesame Street while I was slaving away in the kitchen! Yeehah!
When I left for Uni, I said goodbye to doing dishes for the rest of my life. Afterall, I was going to get married after Uni, buy a dishwasher and never do a single dish till I was 99 years old. Alas, I was wrong. The first few places we rented after we got married did not have dishwashers and we weren't about to buy one in a rented apartment. Many arguments centered around whose turn it was to do the dishes and why the person who made dinner had to use many unnecessary utensils! Life with a dishwasher would be paradise in my home.

We moved out of our apartment into a house and yes there was a dishwasher but it came with the added responsibility of paying for water! Isn't life funny? So, now I've finally got a dishwasher, but I also have to wait till I've got a full load of dishes before I can use it else I will be wasting water! If I waited till I had a full load of dishes, there would be nothing to use and my kitchen will stink. Far out! Do you know how hard it is to be doing dishes when the dishwasher is sitting around being idle and staring at you from under the sink? The English language will not adequately describe the feeling so your imagination will suffice.

Life goes on. I have my dream but I can't live it to the full. I wonder if my husband realizes that the days he gets over 10 "i love you"s from me are those days that he does the dishes. On the other days, I patiently wait for my 15 month old daughter to become older so she can take on some more responsibility in our family. Till then, it's hands to the dishwashing liquid for me. C'est la vie.

Are we there YET?!

...waiting
......waiting
.........waiting; and
............W-A-I-T-I-N-G.

You are currently waiting for this post to start...and I'm pretty sure, that if I keep making you wait, you will jump this paragraph and skim through the page to decide if this post is worth reading or not.

Hello, Morning!

(Greet The Morning by phatpuppy)


Yep, I'm definitely a morning person.The morning is my favorite time of the day. On sunny mornings, the sky is so blue; the little puffy clouds look so soft and fluffy up there; the leaves reflect the sun and the flowers in their vibrant colours make me want to twirl around in a colourful girly dress with arms wide open and chirp like a bird. Since I'm mostly on the bus heading to work at this time of day, I don't do this, so i resort to taking a deep lungfull of the lovely morning air and giving a big smile to everyone (except late bus drivers. Refer to an earlier post to get my view on late bus drivers). Yeah! its a beautifuuuuuuuuul day.

(Don`t you ever get grey overcast days? by Johh Frisch)

I also love overcast mornings when it looks like it's going to storm. I imagine the sun trying so hard to peek through the big dark clouds (like Izabelle trying hard to see the TV when I've deliberately blocked her view). I can almost hear the clouds going, "geez sun, what is it with you? you've been at our backs all morning" and the sun going, "if only you'd just let me peek through, just a tiny little bit so I can see what's happening down there, I'd quit bothering you so much". I like to think that when the clouds give in is when you see rays of sunlight peeping through the cracks in the clouds on an overcast morn. :)

(rainy day by whatafriarlife.blogspot.com)

Oooh, I love rainy mornings too. I try to take my extra large umbrella so i can enjoy the rain, otherwise, the worry of getting drenched will spoil the day for me.
Have you ever listened to Enya's song "it's in the rain"? Brilliant for such days.
Anyway, I love the rain because it makes me feel like curling up on the sofa with a cuppa and a good cartoon or Dr Seuss movie (oh delight!). Although, I usually can't indulge on workdays, the feeling usually suffices and I hope for rain on the weekend. (sorry shopping addicts)
Oh, there are lots more I love about the mornings...

(A new leaf by Catalog of Visual Interestingness)

The morning is a new leaf with new opportunities...its just as exciting as when you're in the middle of your favorite novel and turning a new leaf to the next page is even more appealing than a cone of ice cream (the middle is usually fantastic because you've past the beginning where there wasn't much action and you're not at the end where it's all about to end...you're just at the perfect bit!). We all apply the "new leaf" concept to serious things in life like our careers, relationships, etc, but stop for a minute and think about all the frivolous but nonetheless important things that we can apply this concept to: every morning presents a new opportunity to explore new make-up...after all, its not the usual custom to change your eyeshadow from green to black around 11.00am in your office bathroom, is it? No! You've gotta wait for the next morning, right? Also, when you've just purchased new items for your wardrobe, you've got a couple of exciting mornings ahead to mix and match outfits because you can't wear it all at once.

Yeah yeah, i know the last couple of lines sound shallow but come on, most of us girls (and dare I mention guys?) consider such things, so I just had to put it out there.
When I've got something so incredibly exciting planned that has had me counting the number of sleeps till the day, imagine the tingle of excitement and anticipation that peaks on the night before the morning of the D Day? OHHH, its enough to light all the light bulbs in the world for 61 seconds. I find that I can hardly sleep through the night and in the event that I wake up to go to the bathroom, it's almost 100% likely that I won't be able to go back to sleep.

(Excitement by nataliedee.com)

Oh my gosh, I can remember the morning of our wedding...oh, how insanely thrilling...I couldn't believe that the day I would wed my beau and live happily ever after had finally arrived...oh the dreams...oh the possibilities...oh my, oh me, oh my! (bunnytown, 2009). It wasn't quite the same though on the morning I had Izabelle. Perhaps this was because I was in ACTIVE Labour? hmmm....Maybe hubby was incredulously excited for me, seeing as I was certainly too 'busy' to be actively excited.

Mornings in a new country are usually a-m-a-z-i-n-g. I normally can't wait to get out and experience the life there. Do they hang out at cafes in the morning? Are the streets full of crowds of workers finding their way to work? How early do the markets open? What is the main occupation? Will there be more people going to an office job or heading to the mines or farm? Whatever the case, mornings will always feel different in different countries.

(Saturday Morning by Monica S Carnesi)

My 'bestest' mornings are Saturday and Holiday mornings. I wake up in a gooey happy mood with a song in my head (but then I always wake up with a song in my head and on workdays, i play the song on my ipod on my way to work)...ok, so on weekends and holidays i wake up with a song in my head and then lie awake trying to remember why I'm happy...hmmm.........nope, I'm not getting married today, I'm already married....hmmm....nope, we are not buying a new house........hmmm....is something interesting going to happen at work today? WORK! That's it! It's the "no-work day today". Woooooooooooooooooo
This is the point where I jump out of bed --> GooooOOOD MornnnNNING, Morning!

Living with the Intruder

If you're like me then this has happened to you.

You were looking at a baby (yours or someone else's) and the memories of when You were a baby came rushing back. Suddenly you could remember the first day your parents brought you home from hospital and how you looked the entire house over and wondered if this was the house you'd have to live in for the next 15 years! Then you remembered how livid you were when your mom tried to introduce formula...what was wrong with breastmilk...you didn't remember complaining about it. And it felt just like yesterday that your mom snatched the weekend newspaper from you...why did she do that? Afterall, you were only trying to be like Dad, who was reading it a few moments ago and she didn't snatch it from him.
The most persistent memory though was the fact that everyone seemed to want to stop you......when you tried to come up close to the TV just so you could touch Pooh bear - NO! COME AWAY FROM THERE....when you decided to keep crawling even though you were at the edge of the bed - NO! STOP BABY!.... when you saw some exciting insect specimen on the carpet and decided to orally explore it - PUT IT DOWN, NOW! One too many STOPS! naturally began to make you a little bit apprehensive...you couldn't wait to grow up and stop being a baby that got carried around all the time to places you didn't really want to go...like the doctor's clinic for those immunisation shots. You were pretty sure that when you grew up you would be free to do whatever you wanted to do. You could get as close to the tv as you wanted, and you could read the weekend newspaper (or shred it if you so wished).

Well, I did grow up, albeit in stages. Different stages of growth came with varying amounts of freedom as well as restrictions. The great thing about being 3 years old is that you no longer need to sleep in the cot so you don't have to keep trying to climb over the bars. The not so great thing about being 3 years old is that you most likely have been introduced to the Intruder.

'Intruder: someone who is present where he/she is not welcome'.

When I was a baby, I was innocent (some of you might find this fact hard to believe, but its true) and I was full of trust. I trusted my parents and I trusted the world. This was why I would let anyone carry me; I would eat anything from anyone; I would smile at anybody; I believed everyone liked me (I was a baby, I was cute, I was cuddly. who wouldn't like me?); I used to try and hold big dogs by their ears; I wasn't afraid of anything. By the time I was 3, I had learned not to talk to strangers; not to eat anything from just anybody; to tell Mum if someone touched me in a way that made me feel uncomfortable; that some people didn't like me for some reason; that I couldn't cross the road without an Adult because I could get killed...I had been introduced to the Intruder - Fear.

Age 5 - I was in Kindergarten and I hated the ordeal of having my Mom or anyone else comb my hair. When I combined this attitude with managing to get lice, it was the last straw for my Mom, so she cut my hair. Monday morning I was driven to school and it was the worst day ever. Some bullies in my class gathered around me and sang horrid songs and I began to fear school. School meant bullies. They were monsters that came to school everyday and made life miserable for you. I considered ending my education at that point but my parents had other ideas.

Age 15 caught up with me in high school. Most girls were trying to be noticed by the boys. If you didn't dress a certain way, you were destined not to have a boyfriend and this meant you were uncool. Needless to say, my Mom made sure that my skirt was always way below the knees, so I didn't have a short enough skirt to be cool...and I didn't have a boyfriend in highschool. I got introduced to the fear of what my peers thought.

Age 19 saw me at Uni. I had reached a point in life where I was not living at home and I was quite shocked to suddenly discover that I now had to make choices. Bad choices could even lead to the end of my life (or at least life as i knew it back then). I always heard of people who had made a bad choice and gone off with a guy they didn't really know and were never seen again...or people who got infected with HIV...or people who got kicked out of Uni...or people who got into gangs and got shot. It was all overwhelming...there was just a lot to fear and there were no parents to protect me. I felt like my life was now up to me and I had no one to blame if I took the wrong turn. Good friends and a doting boyfriend helped. Oh, and my parents had friends who seemed to be at every nook and cranny of the Uni and who I could count on to tell them if I had been seen doing what I wasn't supposed to be doing. They made me worry a lot actually.

Age 23 turned up and I had finished Uni. Yay. At this point, even though I knew there were bad things happening all around the world, none had happened to me up till then and this was a good sign. There was nothing in the world to be afraid of....but then I went and had a car crash. I was traveling on a National assignment and the driver lost control of his vehicle. I was sitting in front and I can't remember much of the crash except that I lost a few teeth, had a deep cut on my knee, couldn't walk or talk for weeks, and sustained minor bruises to my spinal discs. Great! I was not transferred to a location that would not involve traveling so I had to deal with this new found fear of traveling (mostly for 6 or 7 hrs at a stretch) to this post for the period of 12 months that I was on duty.
Till date, I can't really sleep when someone is driving me and I have not gotten my license yet. I have to fight the Intruder to be able to do these things.

When Age 24 came by, I had finished my 12 month posting and I had just come back from one last (safe) road trip. I did not need to do any more road travels. I only had to hop on a plane to Brisbane in about 2 weeks and there was nothing to fear. Air travel is one of the safest means of travel. Then the Belview airline crashed. OMG talk about bad timing. CNN decided to air a time-line of all the plane crashes that have ever happened in the world...and I became pretty worried about spending about 25 hours on a plane from Abuja to Brisbane. I can still feel the butterflies in my tummy. I stopped watching CNN and switched to Cartoon network. I hopped on the plane to Lagos enroute to Brisbane and when I got on my Emirates flight, I looked at the screen and noted that one of the Planes that left Abuja around the time I left had crashed at Port Harcourt. Great. In fact, some of the Kids I saw milling around the airport were gone. What perfect news to receive at the start of a 25 hour long flight. Needless to say, I made that trip with the Intruder close at hand. I fought hard and long during every turbulence and when we spent hours over the Atlantic.

Age 25 was pleased with me because I decided to marry that doting boyfriend of mine. About time. I traveled back to Nigeria for a small and quick wedding and spent roughly 2 weeks with my beau before coming back to Brisbane - ALONE. I was now married...and the Intruder whispered this to me...'the risk of being a widow is now real'. Scary. No,nothing can happen to my husband, we've only just got married. His parents are still married and alive and so are my parents. It runs in both our families. But the Intruder lingered. My husband called me almost everyday and when he went on travels (which he seemed to be doing all the time) he would tell me of ordeals he went through on some and how others were fine. My mind seemed to be able to filter out the good stories and retain the bad stories. So I worried. When I realized that worrying wouldn't do me any good, I switched to praying for him everyday when I woke up and before I went to bed. He joined me 5 months later. Phew.

Age 26 saw me get pregnant for our first child. Life was good. We got married. We live together. We were going to have a baby! There wasn't much to fear...till we lost the baby. Then miscarriages became a real and potent fear to us. I had to deal with this fear for 6 months until I felt bold enough to try again. I'm happy I tried because I now have Izabelle. However, the 9 months were spent fighting the Intruder on various issues that worry pregnant women - Oh God, I pray that my child will be healthy; I pray that I won't loose this one; I'm trying to eat well so that all will be well with my baby; I pray that my baby will not have down syndrome or any other syndrome....Believe me when I tell you that 9 months is a long long time when you're pregnant. Time only seems to go in the 5th gear after you've had the baby. which is probably because the babies can't wait to grow up. :)

You probably get my gist by now. Life is full of things to fear. The Intruder lurks around every corner and you don't even have to turn on the TV to see it because it's on the radio. Bomb blasts, air crashes, car crashes, kidnappings, fires, serial killers, natural disasters, cancers, health issues, arrrrrrrrrrgh!!! MAKE IT STOP!
We have all met the Intruder and we have learned to either live with it or deal with it. We can't achieve our highest potential if we are held back by fear. We have to take risks.
The highest feeling of fear for most people is the fear of death. For some other people, the fear of being rejected and worthless surpasses the fear of death, hence the push to commit suicide in some cases.

My encounters with the Intruder is not a sad ending story though. I have discovered that the opposite of fear is trust. If I trust you, I won't fear you. If I trust a driver, I won't fear when I board his car or bus...and so on. I have chosen to trust that even though I live in a world were I am exposed to a lot of dangers, I will be safe. So for me, it boils down to doing what I can do, and leaving the rest to God.
This is the reason that I have stopped being scared if a visibly Muslim man or woman enters the bus and sits beside me. I have stopped worrying if they're going to blow up the bus. I didn't stop because I trust Brisbane's security, I stopped because at that point, there is nothing else I can do except deciding not to go to work (which is not an option). The only thing I can do is trust God.

Recently I asked my colleague if she was ever scared of flying and she said that it didn't bother her. When I asked her why, she replied that since one would still die someday, what does it matter which way someone dies, death is death. She wouldn't let the fear that she might crash keep her from travelling on holidays or for work. After all, the odds are in her favour that she is more likely to land safely...moreover, if one decided to keep away from things that had the potential to kill like cars, planes, etc, then life wouldn't make sense. I like that attitude and I am trying to wear it. You've probably noted that I'm particularly nervous about flying, but I will fly. I will need to. I can't say that the butterflies would be gone the whole trip, but you know what? If the Intruder won't go away, I'll do life AFRAID. If you've noticed, when you do life, the Intruder slips away.

My Conclusion? Lets do life...don't let the Intruder intrude. Just do it.

Girlie Wisdom

1. A friend of mine confused her Valium with her birth control pills... she has 14 kids but doesn't really care.



2. One of life's mysteries is how a 2-pound box of chocolates can make a woman gain 5 lbs.



3. My mind not only wanders, it sometimes leaves completely.



4. The best way to forget your troubles is to wear tight shoes.



5. The nice part about living in a small town is that when you don't know what you are doing, someone else does.



6. The older you get, the tougher it is to lose weight because by then, your body and your fat are really good friends.



7. Just when I was getting used to yesterday, along came today.



8. Sometimes I think I understand everything, and then I regain consciousness.



9. I gave up jogging for my health when my thighs kept rubbing together and setting fire to my knickers'.



10. Amazing! You hang something in your closet for a while and it shrinks 2 sizes!



11. Skinny people irritate me! Especially when they say things like...'You know sometimes I forget to eat!' .....Now I've forgotten my address, my mother's maiden name and my keys, but I have never forgotten to eat. You have to be a special kind of stupid to forget to eat!



12. The trouble with some women is that they get all excited about nothing and then they marry him.



13. I read this article that said the typical symptoms of stress are eating too much, impulse buying, and driving too fast. Are they kidding? That's my idea of a perfect day!



SEND THIS TO 5 BRIGHT WOMEN YOU KNOW AND MAKE THEIR DAY!!!





LIVE SIMPLY.....LAUGH OFTEN....LOVE DEEPLY





** I didn't come up with this so I hereby acknowledge whoever did. She did a good job**

On a business note...

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Website: www.chennacollections.com.au
Direct store link: Store

Ok, don't get sidetracked, blogging activities continue below. :)

Reflections of an irate bus passenger

The Setup

Its only 12.00am and I feel like I've just been woken up for the 500th time in 1 hour...what was that noise? *sigh* its my alarm clock. Why is it waking me up at midnight? Who's been tampering with my phone? I have a look at the phone. Far out! Its 5.00am! Seriously, I'm only sure because I just checked my phone. Gosh, I feel like I've only just gone to sleep. *sigh*
I don't feel well at this time in the morning, I wonder if I can call in sick? No I won't do that, but i'll feel better after I rest some more. 5.26am!!! Gosh!! I better get up, I can't afford to miss my 6.44am bus!

6.40am and onwards

Its freezing cold but I didn't really mind because my bus should be here in the next 4 minutes.
6.45am...Awww Nancy, he's just a minute late! My bus was late yesterday, he arrived at 6.50am so when we got to Indooroopilly station, I had missed my connecting bus. I arrived work at 7:45am. I prefer arriving around 7.30am but 15 minutes later doesn't bite.
OK, when the bus hadn't arrived by 6.50, I was sure of two things:

1. It was definitely the same driver who was late yesterday; and
2. I was going to frown at him when I hopped on the bus (like he cared or would even notice!)

I kept on feeling cold and kept on checking my watch in between feeling cold. It was soon 7.00am and I was certain that our driver had decided not to show up. I sent hubby a text saying that my bus was late, then I sent him another one correcting myself and informing him that the driver did not even bother to show up. His reply? "OK. At least you found one. Have a good day." My mental response? "!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" (that was me screaming in my head)
Some minutes past 7.00am and a bus driver arrives so we all hop in. He said good morning but I did not respond. I hoped he realised I was livid because I had woken up early for nothing! I might as well have slept in!



OK, so a bus has FINALLY arrived, I've hopped on, I'm sitting down and I'M FUMING!
Below is a snapshot of what was going on in my hot little head.

The reflections

Gosh, I'm so upset....why are you upset? Well, for starters, I'm supposed to be at work by 7.30am. You are not SUPPOSED to be at work by 7.30am and you know that. Well I like being at work that early because it gives me 30 minutes to 1 hour of working alone without being interrupted.
*fume* I feel like giving the driver a piece of my mind. And what would that be? Hmmmmm...just watch and see. (I begin to imagine a confrontation in my mind) --> {I walk up to the driver and......
Nancy: Oh hi Driver, did you know that this bus was meant to arrive AT 6.44am?
Driver: What? Speak up, I can't hear you love.
Nancy: I asked if you realised that this bus was meant to arrive at this bus stop AT 6.44am?
Driver: No mate, that was meant to be the driver before me. What's your problem?
Nancy: Well, its just that unlike some other people, some of us NEED to be at work on time and we've been standing at the bus stop under freezing conditions for the past 30 minutes. *pause for a response but get none so I push on* Would you know why the other driver didn't show up?
The driver starts getting impatient because he's driving and I'm not supposed to be talking to him when he's driving, however, I'm too angry to care...until I notice that every other person on the bus is looking at me and listening to the conversation. The school children are snickering and whispering among themselves...One student speaks up, "Go back to your country if you don't like it here" and I snap back, "Well this IS my Country because I was born here just like you were. Moreover, even if I wasn't born here I shouldn't be listening to you because millions of Australians live overseas as well!"...At this point, I can't help but compare the bus system here to the one in some Nigerian cities - 3 come to mind: Nsukka (I begin to remember those yellow buses with yelling harmattan riddled conductors hanging from the bus from Barracks to Ogige Market) Not a good comparison so I make a mental shift to Lagos (lots and lots of buses with conductors yelling unintelligible destinations, I also begin to see the 'one chance' buses in my mind, and then I remember standing at a bus stop without knowing when and if a bus will come...then I almost re-feel the frustration I felt when a bus arrived but the driver decided he now wanted to go to another destination because there were more passengers going there!!!!) No this is worse than Nsukka and I almost have to shake off the bad feeling I'm getting...is there no city with a good public transport system in Nigeria? Aha Abuja (I remember that it wasn't too bad hopping on a bus from Wuse II to Kubwa, there always seemed to be a bus unless I got to the bus stop at a certain time in the evening) Oh well....by this time the school children are bold enough to giggle and giggle, other older passengers are staring at this crazy crazy lady, so I decide to go back to my seat. At least this driver now knows my thoughts about 'NO - SHOW' drivers and will perhaps have a word with the other absentee. } yeah right.

Ok so the above scenario didn't actually happen, it only happened in my mind so i'm trying to let off some steam and the reflections continue...

Why don't you listen to some soothing music on your ipod? It always makes you feel better. Aha, why didn't you mention it before! hmm what shall it be *i'm flicking through my playlists as its too much work to try and figure out what genre I want to be listening to* Ahhh, Enya and Yanni. Sweet. So I start listening to Yanni's End of August and my bus has just gone round the Sinnamon Park roundabout and is trying to merge with the Highway. What!!!Traffic congestion and we can hardly get on! Everyone is creeping, I mean EVERYONE. Oh, did I mention that I have known this all along which was why I decided to start taking the 6.44 bus just to miss the traffic? *exasperation* I wish I could stamp my feet. I can't so I just have to be satisfied with an eye roll. I'm fuming again! Our bus finally gets on the highway and we start creeping successfully. We cross the bridge and when I see the river the good part of my mind reminds me:
"Be thankful for what you've got"
"and what would that be?"
"Life. Its better to be on a late bus that on a crashing airplane"
"Well, yeah"

That seems to mellow me down a bit.

Enya's May it be begins to play just as we're driving past the Forest-like vegetation. I allow my mind to wander and the song makes me feel like I'm on vacation at a Rainforest location. I check my time and its 7.25! Gosh, I was supposed to be at Uni now. Enya is still playing and I am at cross roads in my mind. Should I wander away to my Rainforest vacation or should I keep fuming in my mind? I feel like a holiday, so i'll go for one in my mind, at least I don't have to worry about getting on the plane yet. Cool.
So I'm back at this Rainforest resort and its a lovely day. We are in a cabin and I'm about to make breakfast on this lovely lovely morning....Yanni's Santorini starts playing and I'm still looking out of the window in the kitchen of this cabin in this Rainforest getaway. The sunlight is dancing with the leaves in the wind. It's quixotic. The song gains momentum and I begin to feel like Greece. Greece. Ok, so I decide that we've made plans to travel from this resort to Greece and explore the historical sites. Did I mention that I know that Yanni is Greek? Oh yes, Greece will be lots of fun!...In reality I'm still on this late bus to work and my bus has just stopped to pick some passengers at a bus stop...all is well, I feel quite happy from my mind trip to the tranquil rainforest resort, then I just catch a glimse of my connecting bus zooming past us...COME ON DRIVER, MOVE IT! Catch that bus. No, the traffic isn't letting up. Wait, he's gotten back to the road and we're on the trail of my connecting bus. Woooooooooo...ouch, that was short lived because we're stopped by the unrelenting authority of the RED LIGHT and I watch my connecting bus get farther and farther away into the distance.
*sigh* Oh well.
......
Green light, our bus is moving again, Enya's The Memory of Trees begins to play and I'm actually feeling happy now. Life is great. I'm sitting on this bus, the sunlight is in eyes, God's love is in my heart and I feel alive. I've got a wonderful family to go home to at the end of the day and I'm going to have a PERFECT day after all!
.........
We're at the connecting bus stop now and 3 connecting buses have just left without me because I'm still trying to get off Bus #1. I touch off my Go card on the machine then I smile at the driver and say, "Thanks Driver" before getting off to face this Perfect day!

8.05am, I get to the office, mutter something about absentee bus drivers to Lizanne and hop on my computer.

Late bus? At the end of the day, it doesn't really matter.

What is harder than shopping for clothes?

I love shopping! I think that 99.9999999% of women LOVE shopping in varying degrees. Some are addicted to shopping, some are obsessed with shopping, some others have a dysfunctional relationship with shopping and need psychiatric care or rehab. I like to think that my love for shopping is in the healthy range. Of course, this may be partly due to the fact that my husband and I have a transparent relationship so he gets to find out about 'most' of my purchases!
Another factor that greatly limits my shopping is a two pronged situation (a) driving licence-less-ness (b) i have been babied.
If i had a car, I could take off and 'visit my friends' via the shopping mall and of course being babied only means that I have to take the baby along. Now, since I'm not yet driving on my own, the logistics of taking Izabelle on the bus is too much because it is always uncertain if one will end up getting the 'stroller-friendly' bus or the 'extremely stroller-unfriendly' bus.

Kachi has ended up driving me to and tagging along for most of my visits to the shopping mall! He doesn't mind grocery shopping that much because his mind has been programmed to accept that this happens a couple of times every week! The ones he dreads are my personal shopping trips where I have to choose and decide between billions of clothes, undies, shoes, makeup, and hundreds of other things that I desire but can't afford on my (or our) budget.
One familiar complaint is that I take to long to decide on what I want. My patient answer to this question is always the same: if I am buying a shoe with my hard earned cash, I must be ABSOLUTELY sure that it is the best one (for my price range) in the mall that day, and then it has to be the best option among the shoes that JUMPED OUT AT ME from the shelves.
needless to say, these requirements usually narrow the chosen ones down and sometimes it means that I have to go home without the item after all said and done (because it is better to keep searching for the right one with your money in your pocket, than to buy a second best option only to see the first love on a shelf the next day you walk in the shop). If you could return the second best option, then alls well that ends well, but if you got it at a sale price, then the rest they say is history.

While choosing items for my wardrobe can be very tasking, it is by no means the most tasking of shopping expeditions. Oh no. From past and present experiences I have decided that the most challenging item to shop for is BREAKFAST CEREAL. Seriously.

Have you ever been to the Cereal aisle in supermarkets? Where as other products have to compete for spaces and sections on the shelves, the entire left shelves of most breakfast product aisles are exclusively reserved to hundreds of different types of breakfast cereal!





I don't have too much problem choosing cereal for my daughter because budgets disappear when you buy stuff for your child. Most baby cereals look like they do pretty good things to baby bodies and they occupy just a section of one small shelf, so its not a big deal to buy all of them. Now with adult breakfast cereals, things are different because buying all of them in one go is stupid since they are too many and will break the bank.

It is my idea that the first meal of the day is a very important start to the day...in fact, I'm almost superstitious about it because I feel that if I have a bad or unhealthy start, that pretty much sets the tone for the whole day. If this is actually true or not is another story though.

Prompted by my problem solving husband, I have pondered on my 'cereal-shopping problem' in a bid to identify the issues involved and solve them if possible. The reasons that come to mind are few but serious.
PROBLEM 1)
How do you choose one good thing above another good thing when you have never tried both of them? Now remembering how long and high the cereal aisle is should help you appreciate the magnitude of this problem. On my monthly pilgrimage down the lengthy and uncertain aisle of the cereals, the journey is fraught with extreme turmoil of the mind because of the decisions I have to make in such a short period of time (remember that hubby is tagging behind with the shopping trolley! Oh the pressure, the pressure on my poor nerves). To bring this problem closer to home, let me show you a couple of cereals that I meet on this pilgrimage-



all bran original is very high in dietary fibre and a good source of thiamine, riboflavin and niacin, folate, iron and magnesium. it is also low GI.

All-bran dual helps your digestive system with 2 types of fibre, one of which cleanses your insides while the other nourishes the good bugs in your gut



crispix is low in fat, high in carbs and a good sources of 4 essential vitamins


crunchy nuts is irresistibly tasty


Nutrigrain makes you an iron man


special K is a sensible 99%fat free cereal for women who want to manage their shape.

High in fibre sounds good for a wonderful start to the day doesn't it, but does that beat the All-bran duo with 2 types of fibre? Oh, and don't forget crunchy nuts that is irresistibly tasty...hmmmm.... and how about being an iron woman with nutrigrain? oh, are none of these as sensible as the special K? Don't try to solve this problem by asking me to buy all of them and mix them in my bowl because these are only 6 out of a sea of cereal
PROBLEM 2)
What you see is NOT what you get!
I have learnt this lesson the hard way because I have been moved to decide on a purchase by the picture on the cereal packet only to rush home and be unpleasantly surprised because the beautiful yummy mouth-watering cereal in a bowl of fruit I saw in the packet was NOT the same cereal that was in my own bowl. Massive difference. I would like to meet the photographers who take those pics.
PROBLEM 3)
Being adventurous and just going ahead and buying one I have never tried before (which are in their tens or hundreds) is a huge risk. What if I end up loathing it? I can't bin it because it is the WRONG thing to do.....you know that some people are starving and don't even have as much choice as I do....then I'm accountable to someone else.....then....its a waste of money....then...oh, gosh, its just the wrong thing to do OK?
The only thing is that if I buy one that I hate, I wont eat it that often so it will take so long to finish and so I can't even go ahead and buy another one!
PROBLEM 4)
Being unadventurous is even worse than the former problem because it makes that journey down the cereal aisle even harder for me to endure. As I'm walking straight to the one I'm used to buying, the other ones keep calling out to me: "try me, I'm high in folate"; "no, try me, I'm irresistibly tasty" (now that's one that is hard to resist) "try me, I'm ......." "try me, I'm....." ".........."!!!!!!!!!! Far out!!! I just can't live my whole life knowing that there may be a much better option to the cereal I'm always eating and its sitting there on that shelf as I walk past every time! It goes against all my life philosophies.

Obviously I'm left with a few solutions to my predicament.

SOLUTION 1)- try them all out, then make a list of a few that I like. Its a risk, I know that, but consider the other option of being unadventurous! Wouldn't it be easier if the cereal companies made sachet sizes of all their cereals? then it would be easier to even buy them in one or two shopping trips and that way, if you encounter one that you can't stomach, it won't be such a sin if you silently directed it to the bin. Oh, but I think the companies know what they are doing when they only have small sachet sizes of the most popular choices. As for the other ones, we are left in the dark, with only a false picture and some scientific blurb to help us decide.
SOLUTION 2)- I could stop eating cereal...I find it easier to choose bread and Milo.
But my breakfast life will become very predictable and unbearably boring.

*sigh*
Being the Nancy that I am, you know what the choice will be. Why can't life be easier? I remember the days that the options were limited - Akamu (pap as Nigerians call it), custard, and Nasco's Cornflakes. I didn't have this predicament then, partly because I was a child and had to go with whatever mom and dad decided on (:)) and also because that was most of the options that were available in the town we lived in then.
I can't go back to those days, so suffice it to say that I will keep going on this risky and adventurous journey of buying previously unknown cereal with little certainty on their real personalities. Perhaps, one day I'll get close to the end of the tunnel, where I'll have a wonderful list of favourites (this wont be possible if the companies keep being innovative though), but that thought won't stop me!
Till then, its back to the cereal aisle for me!