Raging at Dawn



My city, Prague

This week has been a blur. Nights last minutes! I get into bed at 10:00pm, close my eyes for a second and it’s morning!! Dawn at an infuriating 5:30!! It’s killing me. Knowing it’ll get worse and that dawn is bound to sweep in at an even earlier 3:00 am, has my stomach in knots.

My 6 years in Europe haven’t done a thing. This atrocious invasion of my sleepy time by an overly eager dawn is going nowhere! For 24 years in Uganda, my system was primed and tuned to waking up at the crack of dawn. As the bottomless, near emptiness of night gave way to a glow-y purple sky, my brain would automatically and softly be cajoled into a state of wakefulness. Birds, roosters and wailing kids were always part of it. Nothing…nothing beats the reliability of an African dawn; year around same time, 6:00 – 6:30am.

To Tango with Wine





I got done in by 3 glasses of wine!! Strange things have been happening to me since I turned 30!! I mean, 3 glasses, seriously? As a result, this post will be a piece of genius rubbish. The kind brought on by an alcohol induced, sleep deprived haze! Let’s crush and burn this post.  I know where to lay the blame.

Where was I? Yes, yes, the wine….

I know, I know (being especially bright this very instant). A mum at home, probably firmly immersed in unintelligible baby language (two years at home), and a sameness to my daily routine - each day looking just like the previous 13…puh! I should be swimming in the stuff, right? Well, I’ve been good (remember to let Santa know). I’ve been so good I barely touch the contents of my home bar. Any lustful thought of reanimating my lethargic, uncooperative, sleep deprived brain with that little infusion of the ferment is swiftly laser-ed! I’ve been so good, I don’t remember the last

What men get from pregnancy boobies


Men are weird creatures whose preference for a particular female body shape changes with their current state of mind. A guy who’s got his baby goggles tightly fitted will continue to see what eludes most – the intoxicating allure of a pregnant body. Yes, really! At the climax of his baby hints, my husband once exclaimed, “Oh my, her body’s so sexy!” He was poring over a photograph of a 6 months pregnant woman in a bikini.

News of a pregnancy is received in a whirl of whoops of joy and secretly, a lot of gleeful hand rubbing. The man’s eyes take on a salacious glint. He is ready to explore pregnancy’s tasty pluses - the magic twins. The natural size of his woman’s boobies doesn’t count. Flat chested or amply endowed, the expectation is the same. Bigger…B.I.G.G.E.R please! Men are greedy that way.

The tease is on.

The boobies don’t disappoint. The small get bigger and the bigger get enormous. Optical nutrition is a full on feature as brassieres and tops strain and groan and each tinny movement causes a chaotic but oh-so-hypnotic bounce to the chest. For the moment, he’s satisfied and very understanding of the unspoken restrictive rule because, morning sickness is a bitch but it’ll pass - soon. He’s been reading up on pregnancy for dummies, bidding his time. The best is on its way.

The second trimester creeps in and so does the forbidden wandering hand. SWAT!! They hurt like hell.