The Long Goodbye

Someone wisely informed me, when I was pregnant, that motherhood is one big, long exercise in letting go. I am currently in the midst of that painful reality, as we’re attempting to get Safiyah out of our bed and into her crib – for good this time.

Yes, we’ve been down this road before. About six months ago, Ben and I successfully weaned Safiyah from our bed and had her sleeping in her crib. But then life happened, she relapsed, and I’ve been putting off re-training her until we moved to Indianapolis.

So, now we’re here and I’m all out of excuses of why tonight, just isn’t the night to quite let go.

As I prepared myself for the screams, the tears and the painful agony of forcing my child to cry-it-out, I realized and accepted that this is going to be much harder on me than it is on her.

I love cuddling with Safiyah’s warm little body at night. Safiyah, who loves to cuddle as much as her mommy, tucks herself tightly inside the arc of my body, reminding me of the days that I carried her within me – when her body was housed inside my own.

I try to remind myself that she, and I, will survive this. Soon, I tell myself, I will be SO happy to have my space, my bed and alone time with my husband back, that I will wonder what took me so long to kick her out!

But just when I thought that I had psyched myself up to withstand the inevitable, the screams began and my heart ached for her.

Why? I’m sure she wonders.
Why now?
We’ve had a good thing going for nearly a year and a half.
Why can’t I stay another year and a half?
Why do I have to be in here ALL ALONE, her cries seemed to ask.

She went back and forth like that throughout the night. She’d wake up, then cry herself back to sleep. Around 5:30 a.m., she woke up for a bottle. I was relieved to run in and give it to her. Unfortunately, however, this gave her false hope that it was time to return to that big familiar bed that she’s used to. So, she was understandably pissed when I returned her to her crib for the remainder of her night’s rest. She cried an exhausted whimper that revealed she was, in fact, still quite sleepy. But this time she even tried to “talk” her way out of the crib.

“Maaaa-maaaa”, she cried.
“Duber bahtigo!”

In Safiyah speak, 'duber' is diaper, so I knew where this was headed. Then, I distinctly heard the familiar sound of Velcro tabs being released.

No, I told myself. She’s baiting me – wants to lure me in with the threat of our famous diaper war. I decided not to bite. Moments later, she was asleep again.

A few hours later, I was awakened again by her cry. I looked at the clock - 8:30 a.m. She had made it through the night! When I finally allowed myself to answer her cry, my eyes confirmed what I thought my ears had heard.

In an act of sheer rebellion, she was waiting there in her crib – butt naked.
No footed sleeper, no diaper, butt naked.

Letting go is hard, but at least Safiyah is keeping it comical.

Hugs for Sale

Safiyah gives great hugs. And I told her this as I was lotionin’ her up after bath time the other day.

As soon as I said it, she leaned in close and draped her arms around my neck. She smiled. I melted. She really has been a kid on command lately. (If you don’t count her knowledge of body parts, that is.)

Ever since I praised Safiyah on her ability to squeeze tight and make mommy melt, it seems she has been negotiating the value of these oh-so-sweet hugs.

“Safi, that’s not nice.” Hug.
“Safi, put that down.” Hug.
“Safi, time for a nap.” Hug.
I noticed a pattern.

Hugs have become Safiyah’s way of asking for forgiveness, or at least, a means to escape punishment, or scolding. Today, she tested out the value of her hugs in the endless diaper battle we have going.

Safiyah has an obsession with taking off her diaper. I know this is one of many signs that she is, in fact, ready to be potty-trained, but that’s another story. Needless to say, I had been repeating “LEAVE YOUR DIAPER ON” all morning. After finding yet another diaper carelessly discarded on her bedroom floor with no Safi in sight, I had had enough.

Safiyah, I yelled!

The child emerged from the bathroom with lightening speed, rounding the doorway corner like Carl Lewis. It must be said that Safiyah is easily startled. A natural by product of always getting into things she’s not supposed to get into, anytime I call her name, she comes RUNNING – eyes wide and crazed; startled, as if she’s just heard gun shots.

“Safiyah, no more taking your diaper off. You must keep it on”, I advised my naked bottom child.

Eyes wide and blinking, a smile emerged. She opened her arms wide and negotiated her price. . . one juicy hug coming up!

It seems Safiyah has learned early that everybody has a price - even mommy. Her diaper is locked in place for now, but no telling how long this one’s going to last.

So...my kid's a genius

Ok, now I realize that every parent says this, or at least thinks it, at some point about their child, but I'm convinced that Safiyah has an extremely high I.Q. for a 16-month-old.

The child has figured out how to turn on my iPhone. And no, it's not just pushing a talk button and waiting for the dial tone. It's actually quite childproof. There's a little "slide to unlock" feature that you put your finger on and drag the arrow across to unlock the phone.

Safi has figured out how to slide her little finger across the screen to unlock the treasure! She watches in delight as the screen transforms, rewarding her efforts. You've gotta see it to believe it.

My suspicions were further validated by the “conversation” we had the other day. Although Safiyah only says about 5 true words (admittedly average, (gasp) or possibly below-average for her age), I realized a couple days ago that she can distinguish between yes/no and open-ended questions. It went a little something like this:

Me: Safi are you hungry?
Safi: aahh (said in a grunt style that quite possibly means both yes and no)
Me: what do you want to eat?
Safi: blub-blub-blub-yahda-yahda
Me: really? You like that?
Safi: aahh

Me: When's the last time you ate that?

Safi: blah-blub-yahgo-fiya-do

Me: Really?

Safi: aahh
Believe me, this was much more convincing in person

Seeing that we were on a roll, I decided to test out her knowlege of body parts we've been working on. "Nose", I quizzed. "Safi, where's your nose"? "Eye"! she exclaimed, as she dutifuly pointed. . . to. her. ear.

Well, maybe I won't call 20/20 just yet.

Who am I?

mother to Safiyah
wife to Ben/Fadilou/Mamadou…my baby daddy with many names and I love him all the same
daughter to David and Brenda
sister to Marcus, Nneka, Mariama and Jasmin
auntie to Kayla, Shayla, Jaylen, Tariq, Amiyah, Salimah (and Marco and Courtney who are too old to admit that I’ve never met) :(
a muslimah
a lawyer
a closet writer
a 23-year journal writer (I have 17 journals to date)
a friend
a romantic
an organizer
a blogger


Now...who are you?

Everything & Nothing

so, i've been wanting to start a blog for quite a while, but each time i start, i reach the same block – “what am i going to write about?”
but today i realized, i don’t need a topic, a reason, a season, or a thesis statement. writing, particularly blog writing, doesn’t need to have a focus. isn’t that the whole purpose of a blogging?
so, here i begin!

i’m writing…about everything and nothing at all.
but i’ve joined the blog world and i’m writing!

Indianapolis by way of New York

I recently made the journey home to Indianapolis after 3 ½ years of living in New York. Many couldn’t understand why I would ever want to leave the bright lights and big city of New York. The simple answer – I missed my family. The more complicated question – did I ever really want to live in New York?


Moving to New York was the first major wifely concession I made. Some would argue that leaving Indiana for New York wasn’t quite a concession. And that’s what I told myself when I packed up my single-girl apartment in downtown Indianapolis and drove the 12-hour trek to New York with my new groom. I was excited, giddy even! I was a newlywed in love. I told myself that this was what all women do – get married and follow their husbands. So, that’s what I did.


I have wonderful memories of that first road trip together. We held hands – a lot! We entered each rest stop, fingers interwoven, savoring each moment before parting ways to use the restroom (sickening, right?) We listened to a lot of music. Ben introduced me to Binta Lahly, a famous Guinean folk singer, whose songs I knew by heart after the 12-hour journey. We ceremoniously “high-fived” as we crossed into each new state (a tradition we repeated on the journey back to Indiana.) :)


But I also have another memory of that trip – one not so full of rainbows and fairytales. As we drove across the George Washington Bridge into Manhattan, Ben looked in awe at the skyline that he has always adored. “New York City”, he said with such amusement that he may as well have been singing. But, at that moment of his intense satisfaction, I felt the tears trickle down my cheeks. Moments later, I was bawling. The romantic movie scene had ended and I began to realize the gravity of checking the box marked, “will move for love”. I had left everything I knew, for a world of unknowns with my new husband.

And it was scary.

I was officially a grown-up. Moving to New York was my first real grown-up decision, aside from getting married, that is. And now, this was my life.

Scary as it was, New York turned out to be a great equalizer for our new marriage. Leaving the comfortable bosom of my intensely close family, New York was a fresh canvas for Ben and me to become an “us”. It was an uncharted road that we blazed together. While I desperately missed my family, the distance allowed me to accept that Ben was my family. We grew together in ways that I don’t know we would have been able to starting our marriage in Indiana. We made incredible memories that involved just the two of us.

New York also allowed me to form and unbelievable bond with my little sister Jasmin, who moved to New York after graduating college. Unlike me; however, Jasmin LOVED New York! Jasmin, my fashionably-dramatic-side-splitting- hilarity-of-a-sister, with stories so out-of-this-world that they would NEVER happen to anyone BUT her, was made for New York! Jasmin relishes in the energy of New York. Yet in the midst of her love affair with a city that was giving me the blues, Jasmin was my touchstone to home who eased my homesickness and left me feeling less alone.


While I had accepted that Ben had become my family, Jasmin’s presence in New York filled a void that only a sister could fill. Throughout my time in New York, knowing that Ben, Jasmin (and soon after, her husband Ahmed) were my island of family undoubtedly allowed me to weather the storm.

All in all, New York was good for us, but it never felt like home. And after nearly 4years of fast living, an insane cost-of-living and, a bouncing baby-girl, we agreed that it was time to go home.

Coming back home to Indianapolis has been like wrapping myself in the most comfortable blanket I’ve ever known! Jasmin says that I never really moved to New York, I just vacationed there for 3 ½ years. Perhaps because New York wasn’t my dream, I never allowed myself to really become rooted there. But now that I’m home, I can see New York with enough perspective to appreciate my journey. I can even bring myself to say…I (heart) NY.


I love New York, not for the exciting nightlife, the culture, the endless varieties of food that you can get at anytime of day or night, or the fact that the city never sleeps.

No - I love New York because it was Ben and my first home together.
I became a wife in New York.
I became a mother in New York, as well.
I made unbelievable friends.

I learned that I could make it outside the comfort-zone of my hometown, surrounded by family, but I’d rather not have to. I learned a lot about myself in New York.

I know now that New York was part of my journey. There were lessons I had to learn, that I could only learn there. In the end, what I thought was a “concession” for my husband, was the biggest gift I gave myself.

So, here’s to life journeys – and to finding my way home…