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Disclaimer: While it may appear I’m trying to shove down an epistle of the last 3 months down your throats or minds as it were, this isn’t my intention.

Child #3 made £6.00 yesterday. He also got to sign autographs. I’ll explain.

We were invited to a photo shoot by The Voice newspaper for mothers day. It was to be a picture-led feature, lots of pictures and an interview. I’ll point out that I behaved in a dignified manner throughout.

Child #1 got some telling off from me because I insisted that he dressed formally, with a shirt and cardigan and chinos. No jeans, no T-shirts and certainly no hoodies. I got irritated with him as it was the umpteenth time (ok actually the 4th) I had addressed his dressing as it relates to race and stereotypes which he still doesn’t fully get- or rather he chooses not to understand.

Child #2 was elated. He has always considered himself a fashionista. This shoot to him had nothing to do with mothers day, (after all his mum knows he loves her) and everything to do with the catwalk. It was his moment. Finally his opportunity to become a model despite the fact that mummy said ‘over her dead body’ (whatever that meant).

Child #3 was as cheerful as ever. We were served chocolate drink with chilli pepper (no lie) and some moreish brownies. Child #3’s telling-off needless to say came down to; ‘stop stuffing your mouth!, ‘ come on! wipe those crumbs off your face‘. ‘you’ve had enough‘. ‘Anyone would think we were starving in our own home’.

Child #4. The one called Josh. This one, my conversation with him boiled down to; ‘stand still‘, ‘smile‘, ‘look at the camera‘, ‘no MacDonald’s for you when we leave this place’. ‘‘That’s it, no x-box either’. ‘In fact you’ll be facing the wall once we step indoors‘.

Each threat to my boys was accompanied with my already big eyes widening and my mouth twisted in more ways than I could count. It was important to me that we were seen as refined, well-groomed folks. I don’t know how well it went down with Child #4’s answer to the question; ‘what makes a good mum?

His response; ”A good mum lets me watch TV”.

Child #3 made some money because he told his friends he was featured in the papers and they didn’t believe him. So the savvy business man-child that he is, made bets with his friends and promptly asked them to pay up once he produced the newspaper the following day. He hasn’t stopped smiling.  He decided to stretch the truth by telling them he would be starring in a movie. His classmates (who by now believed every word he said), proceeded to ask for his autograph. Which he gave.

He isn’t starring in a movie, but he did do an audition (another gist which I will share).

I got an email from a casting agency looking for 9-10 year old boys of colour for an upcoming movie, a biopic of a Motown singer. Like any other mother who wants their child to go far in life, I quickly suggested my son (with pride and confidence as the boy is talented- like all our children are). I have learned to GRAB opportunity with both hands when I see it. We were asked to send in a single recording of him singing. As far as hubby and I and even his god-mother is aware, the boy has an angelic voice, he can sing. I hasten to say but between you and me, when he did the recording, it wasn’t the same voice. Lets just say I became increasingly uneasy as we recorded song after song after song. I am yet to hear back from the agency. ‘Nuff said.

The children are on Easter break. I warned them from the start that it would be an ‘indoor break’. No going out for us as it’s just too cold and I’ve reached my quota for cold days in 2012/13.

Talking about cold, I organised a seminar. It was to be a relaxing brunch with about 6 to 10 friends at my house, and a speaker sharing some wisdom with us. But it grew out of my home and into a lovely hotel close to where I live. I got into event-planning mode and very excitedly had it all down to a T. I had room for 30 and sold all 30 spaces with a couple on the waiting list. On the morning of the event we awoke to heavy snow. I had just enough time to cancel and inform all the guests. The postponement and my ensuing reaction showed me how much I’ve evolved as I was not in the least bit disappointed. It had crossed my mind to pray for the snow to stop, but I felt the Lord telling me to use common sense instead. I am glad that I did. I’m glad that I did not fret or panic, I’m glad that I saw the weather as something outside my control and therefore not to be angry at, I am so glad I made a sensible decision without dilly-dallying. For you it may be the norm, but for Toks, trust me, it’s a sign of growth.

Thanks so much for keeping up with me, I’m working on growing in frequency of my blog posts!

I also blog at A blog for the faint-hearted.

Toks Uncovered

Yesterday found us at a parray! My big cousin turned 60 and we attended her surprise birthday party. It was grand!

I have no idea what the matter is with me but recently I’ve caught myself tearing up so easily. Even a fond memory has me welling up in tears. It happened again when she walked into the hall- all decked out for a party because she knew she was attending one, just not hers. When she walked in and everyone cheered, she realised what was going on and immediately started crying, then I started crying too.

Later when the announcement was made to give congratulatory messages, yours truly shot her hand up because she had plenty to say. The celebrant is a darling, darling cousin of mine and as I grabbed the microphone (which I’m not shy of) to give an epistle of her fabulousness, dusted with good humour in all the right places, I just knew I’d have the guests roaring in laughter and begging for my autograph afterwards. Guess what happened? My eyes welled up with tears again and I never made it beyond the first sentence. The rest of the night was spent kicking myself over and over again. Please if you have any explanation as to why Toks keeps crying, do share. Just to give you a heads-up to aid your diagnosis, life couldn’t be better for me, seriously. I have ‘found my happy’, when I cry I don’t feel sad at all, just happy and overwhelmed. I am baffled.

One reason I’m in a happy place is because I read ‘Who moved my Cheese’ by Spencer Johnson. I recommend it to everyone. It’s a funny little story that shows us what we’re like when we’re forced to change and we resist it. Cheese is used as an allegory for what you want out of life, financial freedom, a happy home, dream career, etc. The 4 characters in the book are all in this maze (life) searching for cheese. Sometimes they find it, sometimes they don’t. Sometimes they get lost, at other times they hit dead ends. Either way they keep searching. The cheese station is the site of copious amounts of cheese, which is akin to finally having that dream job or meeting that special person to share your life with. Of course for everyone it is different. When the cheese runs out what do you do? In my case I began to see the truth about an ongoing saga in my life. I finally accepted that a part of my life I had held onto stubbornly for years was well and truly over. That cheese was finished and the crumbs were mouldy, but I remained at the old site of the cheese factory hoping it would somehow show up again. Letting go of the old has been a refreshing, liberating experience for me and  has freed me to move unto bigger and better things.

I met an old friend at the party, he is pretty much family and although we only tend to meet at family functions sometimes as rarely as every other year, we carry on where we left off, no warm-ups needed. He calls me Tokunbo. Most people at the party call me Tokunbo and I respond easily because it warms my heart. Anyone who calls me that has been in my life for a very long time. I tend to use Toks a lot more, but I love being called Tokunbo. It speaks volumes to me, comfort, home, familiarity, family.  Being in a ‘cheese station’ is a comfortable place to be and it’s hard to leave, but there are times we have to get up and move, either because the cheese has run out or our tastes has changed.

On another note, hubby used to call me Tokunbo, then he moved unto Toksi, then Toks and now he calls me T. I’m thinking the next step is to  just imagine my name and I’ll hear him.

Thanks to my dearest friend and sister Iluobe who started me on that path of  ‘happiness’, gave me the word ‘fabulousness’ and has been so kind to remain in my life. You are a blessing in a million ways, I love you sis!

Thanks to my dearest friend and sister Suzy who had my beautiful dress made in record time AND found someone to bring it to me on time for the party. When I think of the words ‘loyal’ and ‘reliable’ Suzy comes to mind. I love you Suzy!

Now let’s see if I have the guts to upload my photo to Pawpaw  & Mango and completely blow my ‘cover’, I do want you to see that dress!

Thank you for reading 🙂