Tuesday, February 24, 2009

TWO MOTHERS’ PREDICAMENT

When I did my two truths and one lie post, I ended by saying I had tons of gist to blog. This post wasn’t one of them. Truth is, I never knew I would ever do this post, and I really don’t know why I am doing it, because though I have always been me on this blog, this is the most personal post I will ever get to do. So don’t be surprised if one day I decide to take it down. I feel very vulnerable.

The trick question wasn’t meant to be in my two truths and a lie post, but somehow it ended up there, and somehow, here I am typing this very difficult topic in the middle of the night when all are asleep. And for once I wish I were an anonymous blogger because this is something I do not talk about. And there are less than five friends who even know about this truth.


Yes I have two mothers; the one who gave birth to me, and the one who brought me up, whom I call mummy till date.
I guess due to my two mothers’ predicament, I have subconsciously programmed myself to not wanting ever to have a big wedding, when eventually I am getting married. Neither do I want a party for my traditional marriage. I just want the dowry to be paid quietly in the sitting room and each family goodnight and welcome to a relationship.

I have said at times, that I don’t want to have a high table at my reception where there will be a chairman of the event and so on and friends ask me if I am crazy. But I have reasons you see. I have always wondered which of my mothers’ will play mother of the day? Biological- Who doesn’t know who I am or how I became me? Or Step- Who though, not the perfect mother, is the only mother I know, who brought me up, who is responsible for the person I turned out to be today, who together, we went through the laughs and the cries of changing times that shaped our family?

And even though mother one was absent due to no fault of hers at all, I hate the idea that the glory should be hers when I’m getting married. In the same way, I hate the emotions she will have, if she is denied a position that is rightfully hers. And is the position rightfully hers? I hate thinking about it.

During the traditional marriage, when mother of the bride is called for recognition, who goes? At the wedding reception, when mother of the bride is called to the high table, who goes? Her or her? When it’s time for bride’s parents to take a pose with the couple, how many people will be in the pix? Four or five and who stays on which side?

Females look forward to getting married and planning their weddings and enjoying that D day. I am not. Can we just skip ‘that day’ and let the holy matrimony begin?

Mother one, aka biological mother, is a stranger to me. We had just the first six and a half years of my life together. I don’t know this woman, but the thought of her pain makes me hurt. I don’t even call her mother or mummy or anything. It’s only some few months back we started a telephone relationship. And in six months we have spoken 3 times. I do not look forward to the calls, but do it out of obligation.

I do not have a relationship with her. None whatsoever. I avoided attending my beloved paternal grandmother’s burial, because I knew she would come to see her kids after over a decade, and I didn’t want any long time no sees. Not because she did anything wrong, but out of nervousness. I wasn’t sure how I would behave and I definitely didn’t want her to feel hurt or bad by the reception.

And years later precious granddaddy Warri died, and there was no escaping that burial at all. And she came like I knew she would. And I was indoors and mother two instructed me, to my fury, to go serve mother one refreshment. What did I do wrong that day? And later my dad as first son was dancing and been sprayed money and me as his first daughter was by his side dancing and picking monies from the floor, mother one came and started spraying me. I refused to watch the video coverage. Because I don’t want a remembrance of what I must face tomorrow. And most especially because of her expression; the joy in her eyes which translates into ‘this is my daughter’, it breaks my heart.

Unfortunately, this cup wouldn’t even pass after the days before marriage which I dread. If it would, I will bear it and make sure I enjoy my day. But there are other days which must run into weeks and at least a month right? I’m talking about the bride mother’s visit after she has had a baby. Who will come please? Her or her? Simple. I am having all my babies abroad and not coming home till they are two months old.

But before I face that, the main day must be dealt with. Do I just carry these anxieties till the day passes. Or does anyone have a plan that will save my sanity. I really don’t want to hurt any of my mothers. What do I do?

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

And The Lie Is?

Despite the fact that I really don’t like this tag thing, I think this is one of my most enjoyable post because of the comments. I liked the guesses made and the reasons given why some answers were favoured as the lie.
I honestly wish I could withhold the suspense of revealing the truths and the lie, but strangely, even me, Uzezi, is waiting for this post. I think I must be going crazy.

Okay, no more long story, let’s get down to business.

My Caveman is a blogger.

We have some investigative reporters in blogville who know how to research this and find out if it’s true or false. And there is a particular blogger who knows himself, and knows this answer to the very bottom because he always suspected. Finally, his curiosity was satisfied when we minus me visited his office. Do you know what it means for a guy to tell you that your Caveman is a cool dude? I talk too much.

Number one is very very true. And I’m on a mission to stop him from blogging, and I really don’t know why I’m doing that.

I have two mothers. This one is very easy now, blogville. Naturally this is the perfect lie. Nobody has two mothers. Except Uzezi that is.
Number two is very very true. I have two mothers. I will leave the explanation for my next post.

Now you know the lie.
Subconsciously, I must have made some bloggers, who must have seen my latest comment on Writefreak’s thankful Wednesday post, think that I actually am a mother. I saw Writefreak reply my comment and ask if I had a 13 year old? I laughed like crazy. Then I scrolled up to read the comment I left, and instead of saying my 13 year old sister, I said my 13 year old. Lol. Imagine making such a mistake just when I have a lie I need people to figure out. So it was only natural for Writefreak to guess this as true.

I do not have a 13 year old, neither do I have a 7 year old. I do wish I had though, I tell you. My sister who turns 13 in April looks so much like me that had I had a child as a teenager, she would have been perfect.
And I have a 7 year old sister who looks like me too. I call her my baby. Actually, in the early days of Caveman and I, I told him she was my kid. He was sold. He believed. God, how I enjoyed that trick. He threw questions that I answered calmly. What made it so believable for him was that he was surprised I had a sister that young. Why didn’t you marry her father? He asked. God. Remembering that play is cracking me up.

Number three is my perfect lie. Though a lot of you wanted me to be a mother, worry not. God will answer the prayers at the right time.


PS: Every blogger is forbidden from missing my next post. Till Then I remain

your's sincerely.

Cavewoman.

Sunday, February 15, 2009

Let’s See

Aloofar had the guts to tag me. I’m only doing it as a special birthday present for him because he had the audacity to drag his mum into labour on Feb 14, when she already had other plans with her husband for valentine.

So let’s see who has the audacity to figure out my one lie and two truths. And please I really can’t tag anyone.
So if I break the rules, forgive me in the spirit of love.

My caveman is a blogger
I have two mothers
I have a seven year old daughter

PS: I have gist o. Seriously. Plenty. I just have to get this meme out of the way for the gist to come in. And I pray that gist comes in this month, and that I won’t disappear from blogville.