Last day of April

It's the little moments that count, isn't it. Today, I was one of about ten percent in our office who went to the office. On a day like this, where there's a weekend, one working day, then a holiday, not many people bother coming in, they rather take the day off for a minibreak. I'm not judging, I'm planning on doing the same on the 18th of May, the Friday squeezed in between Ascension Day and the weekend. If only I'd find cheap tickets to fly somewhere, anywhere... Anyway, I digress. I had a lovely working day, it's amazing how much shorter a 6 hour day is compared to the usual 8. Right now I am watching two 3-year olds play, Em and L (remember him?). In a moment of unusual kindness (probably caused by the fact I had just been given a lift to do my weekly shopping and a trip to IKEA), I offered to babysit L overnight! What was I thinking, what of my own 1st May sleep-in??? Well, it's all paying off in this moment as I watch the two cousins sit in the sunlight that's shining in on us, heads leaned against each other, Em teaching L how to lay the Peppa Pig puzzle. What a wonderful Kodak moment! Of course, if I had a Kodak camera, or any functioning camera for that matter, I'd have captured it!

Introduction to potty training.

I usually let Em run around without a nappy for a bit every day to air her little botty, it just feels a bit cruel that this little person should have to wear a nappy 24 hours a day. Also, I read somewhere that children who go diaperless are pottytrained faster. This evening, she was running around, no nappy in sight, being a little busybody, when my mum - who had been taking care of her all day whilst Virgo and I were in business meetings - said "She still hasn't pooed today". We continued doing what we were doing, watching TV, on the internet, eating dinner when suddenly I catch something happening. Almost seeing it in slowmotion, I watched in horror as a solid, soft, brown mass fell between Em's legs on to the marble tiles.

"Poo, poo, poo!", I heard mysef yelling as the next few minutes turned into what looked like a well choreographed farce. I threw myself over the newly bought toilet roll, ripping of the plastic as fast as I could, as my mum tried to identify any other defacated areas (there were four in total) and Virgo simultaneously picked Em up, took her to the bathroom and washed her down.

All this took place in a matter of about 90 seconds after which we all got back to normal as if nothing ever happened. Well, it's good to know what to expect in the next few months when potty training begins!

Angelina Jolie in Ghana

So after a month of fun and excitement and only one topic of conversation, it seems we're back to reality. Goodbye to this:




And hello work deadlines, temporary move to Tema, cluelessly selecting nurseries for Em (aaahhh, my girl's all grown up already!) and lots of planning and strategising.

Well, at least we can entertain ourselves with the news that a certain celeb is coming to town. Yes, if rumours are to be believed, Angelina Jolie lands in Accra tomorrow! Want a celebrity spotting? My best bet is to ignore Joy's tips on where she'll go, just hang around Osu Children's Home long enough, surely she's not planning to leave Africa without another kid, lol!

Nobody puts baby in a corner

When we got back from court this morning, the poet and I, from afar, thought somebody had stolen my parking spot (parking spots are very precious at our premises, but that's a whole other story), but as we got closer we realised the car was parked in the spot next to mine. However, when we got out of the car, we were in for a new shock. At the back seat of the car was a baby (my guess would be that it was a child of 9-10 months), sitting in her car seat. Luckily, to my slight relief we saw that all four windows were well rolled down, but feeling the intense heat ourselves and seeing the many beads of sweat on her forehead, although snoozing away, she was clearly getting warmer by the minute.

A million thoughts went through my (and the poet's) mind, some voiced, some not. What kind of parent can leave their child in this heat, no wait, what kind of parent leaves their baby unattended in a car park?! My motherly instinct was urging me to pick up the child, take her to the office, leave a note for the mother or father directing to our office, but at least ensuring she'd get away from the boiling heat of a car in the equatorial mid-day sun. As we were walking away I told the poet that we ought to at least inform the car park security guard that there was a baby in the car so that he'd keep an eye on her, but as we turned to take a last look at her, the poet noticed a man had gone to sit in the car, giving proof to what the poet had earlier said "this child has been left with someone other than her parents".

Our guess is that the driver (or whoever he was), after being left to tend and care for the child, had probably felt nature calling and decided that there was no risk in leaving her for several minutes while taking a quick whizz round the corner. He could easily have come back to find an empty car. I may have snatched the baby with good intentions, and leaving a note, but someone else could have taken her forever. How many seconds do you need to snatch a child?

For so many reasons, the image of the little baby girl, soundly sleeping, in a car with its windows rolled down, with sweat rolling down her tiny forehead, will stay with me for long. I wonder how her parents would react if they knew how she had been left, or do they practice the same behaviour? We'll never know.

The many different scenarios to what could have happened to her are still playing in my head. For all we know, even the man we saw enter the car may have been a complete stranger, after all the windows were down so anyone could unlock the car.

I urge any parent who reads this to give your child(ren) a big hug and show them all the unconditional love they deserve, and to all us childless people, let's make a silent promise to never ever put our children at such unnecessary risk, making them innocent victims of our foolish mistakes.