My breastfeeding journey continues

Hey there! I’m back. I’m hoping that I will be able to continue updating you on my motherhood journey. In honour of Black Breastfeeding Week I’ve decided to share my breastfeeding journey with you.

For those of you who don’t know I gave birth to my third born daughter two weeks ago. It’s been a journey but we are all doing well. I’m learning (again) to be flexible with myself and my family but it’s not easy. I like things a certain way and at times it just feels like everything is falling on me. All because if I don’t do it, it most likely will not get done in a time efficient manner that could’ve been invested in other projects and tasks that would greatly help me be a better mother and wife but alas here we are…transitioning.

One thing I am grateful that doesn’t need much transitioning however is breastfeeding. I am grateful that my daughter was able to latch within an hour of her birth. We got to do skin to skin and she was amazing. I’ve been feeding her on demand, which is whenever she wants to as opposed to every two hours like I did with my first born. That method almost drove me insane and borderline into postpartum depression.

Now I completely understand that most infants need to be reminded to wake up and drink that milk, especially when breastfeeding because they need to gain weight for starters. There’s tons of nutrients in that colostrum that they may not get again which is helpful to their survival. It also helps us mothers to get that milk production going. Of course, engorgement will follow and that’s annoying but it benefits us all. However, sometimes baby knows best. As long as you’re trying and doing your best, Mama you’re doing amazing.

All of my girls have been amazing feeders when it comes to the breast and absolutely hated formula or the bottle regardless of whether or not there was breastmilk in the bottle. I remember my first born and I going at it because I genuinely allowed those around me guilt me into believing that my daughter needed to be bottle fed. Also when you’re told that your babies are a problem because they refuse to drink from the bottle, it can trigger some guilt and shame as a mother. But now that I’ve got my third I’m grateful that I can have that bonding moment and appreciate it for what it is.

It is a bit harder this time around because I still have a four year old and a soon to be two year old who still want my attention. There are times when I can’t get to the baby right away. Sometimes I have to put a pause on the dinner preparation to feed the baby. Most of the time, I’m breastfeeding and acting as a referee between the older two. These ideas of being able to sit in a rocking chair having that bonding moment like I did with my firstborn are not happening. These are kinds of expectations I have to let go. For example, having peace and quiet while breastfeeding is not happening anymore. In fact it’s the opposite.

What has proven to be helpful when I breastfeeding is making sure that I have a bib around on the baby. It’s easy to clean up spit ups and regurgitation from the baby. Sometimes the occasional milk let down, especially during the engorgement period. A good nipple cream helped me so much when I nursed my first born. My nipples would crack and it would hurt so much. Speaking to a lactation consultant was crucial for me. It also gave me the confidence to keep trying again. Another important one is having a friend who’s done it before. They sometimes have the most invaluable advices. But most importantly, knowing that you’re not a failure for doing your best. At the end of the day fed is best. If breastfeeding isn’t for you and your little one that’s ok. Just do what’s best for the both of you.

I hope this has been useful and helpful. Below are a list of things I personally loved using while breastfeeding.

https://www.shopltk.com/explore/sandyesprit/posts/f87cdea7-0604-11ec-83a6-0242ac110003

My Pregnancy Body Image

When it comes to body image we’ve all had our ups and downs. As a teen, I was a late bloomer. The only thing that developed was my uterus and my height. Aside from that, I was a skinny, awkward, lanky flat chested girl. My hair never grew past my shoulders because back then I didn’t have the resources I have now. My mom waited way too long to get me first bra, mind you I don’t think it would’ve been filled with much. I outgrew clothes as quickly as I got them in my closet. My skin care routine was non existent and so my face was full of acne. My peers on the other hand, were blessed with curves, hair and make up. I was the ugly duckling in my crew.

When I got older and got my first job I was finally able to take some form of control over my appearance but it took years of learning to appreciate what was there. As a young woman, I was often told to cover up my non existent curves lest I be seen as the Jezebel and make the men fall in lust with my body. Those horny depraved minds lusted after anything with legs and it really had nothing to do with what I wore. I was tall, I was pretty without makeup and a friendly attitude to back it until you got on my bad side. Then well…you got the gist.

Unfortunately, due to the people around me and their “overprotective” counsels I developed a very strange idea of what my body looked like. I began to see what they saw and did my best to eliminate any source of sin. As a Christian, I made it my mission to look “modest”. I wore clothes that were way too big for me. It wasn’t uncommon to be told that my skirt was too short or my butt looked too big. For those of you who didn’t know me back then, I was a size 4. Yup a whole single digit, size 4.

Well, I got out of that toxic situation after ten years. But it took me awhile to reset my vision of my physical image and to fully come to love the creation that God made me to be. Once I fully embraced myself, I got pregnant. What should’ve been a beautiful experience became a nightmare from hell.

I literally thought I could love my body no matter its size and it turns out I didn’t. In fact, I’m currently going through my third pregnancy and I’m still fighting this rhetoric. I don’t feel beautiful. I don’t feel sexy and I don’t feel confident showing my body. I feel like that thirteen year old gawky and awkward teenager trying to get through my entire house without crashing into anything. I have no idea how wide I am and my body is so sore all the time. When I try to explain this to people all I hear “You’re not fat, you’re pregnant!” and the truth is I’m both. I am fat and I am pregnant. There’s nothing wrong with being fat, but there’s something wrong with me.

I know I’m not supposed to feel this. I know that my body is a machine that custom built for this and every life that I carry. But I have this belly that I can’t hide. These hips that just protrude out of my side. My butt jingles and I keep seeing pockets of fat deposits on my thighs. I wish it could be as simple as after the baby is born, I could lose the weight but the truth is. Losing weight postpartum is really hard.

When I had my second born, I actually gained weight postpartum. My mom actually commented on my weight and I felt so small. I am trying so hard to love my body for what it is and I can’t even comprehend what is happening or why it’s happening. I am breastfeeding and eating right and yet I can’t lose the weight. It took me 9 months to get this weight and to manage it, and here I am postpartum still feeling like an insecure teenager. I’m supposed to be over this. This body is the same body that carried these children. The same body, my babies cling to when they want to be comforted. This same body provides nurture, care and a haven of safety for my loved ones and yet all I see is the flaws, I have been told to hate.

I don’t know if this is body dysmorphia, but I know I don’t see an accurate picture of myself or maybe I do and that’s why I’m having such a hard time with this. I wish I could say that I love the way I look because the truth is I don’t. I am most comfortable showing my face and my hair because it still looks normal to me. I have a slight double chin but I can hide that with a contour stick. Everything else is just…ugh!

I wish I knew how to fix it. I don’t. I do hope that this sparks a conversation.

To you, who understands how I’m feeling you’re not alone. No matter how we feel, the truth is we are beautiful.

My toddler won’t sleep…

It’s currently 4:07 am and my one year old has been fighting sleep since 3:30 pm. Smack dab in the middle my sleep is interrupted by the constant whimpering that slowly progress into full blow cry. As I’m hearing this I’m debating whether or not I should get out of bed. I know she’s ok, she’s never really been much a sleeper.

She’s good with laying down in her crib but the falling asleep stage had always been a struggle. Even now as she lays her head on my chest, she’s moving and squirming, making herself comfortable as my heart heartbeat serves as an internal lullaby and my growing fetus is currently kicking around.

Her eyes are open but her gaze is sleepy. She’s tired. We both know it. So I do what any Christian mother would do. I pray. I pray and I speak over my child. I command the angels to watch over her. I pray hoping for the miracle that my baby needs to sleep through the night. I pray in Jesus’ name and I wait. I hear nothing. I get up and I leave. Once I close the door the whimpering return and I’m left feeling more hopeless than when I went in. This isn’t the first time and yet here we are still faced with this predicament.

Should I pick her up? Should I bring her into my bed? Did she have a nightmare? Is this a night tremor? Maybe she napped too long. Or maybe not enough. Let’s go through Google on this. I’m already awake so I might. Lord knows I need answers. Once again, equipped with my smartphone in my hand, I use my external brain to find an answer that will help. I’m sure there there’s a mommy blog out there with the answers I need.

Sure enough there is. In fact, there’s plenty. It’s nice to know that I’m not the only one. Of course, the reasons of why this could be happening isn’t a clear cut diagnosis. Since toddlers lack the ability to accurately express themselves. To be honest, at 34 years of age I find myself at times unable to accurately express myself except through tears. So it makes sense that a child who’s been on this side of life for less than two years would also have this issue. It’s not her fault

The first thing that I notice is the need for patience and lots of it. All of this is normal and like most people, this too shall pass. I personally would hope that it could’ve passed months ago, but no. Once again, patience and grace is required for this challenge. This is not just her challenge, it’s ours. We both are tired and awake. We are both annoyed. We are both sleepy. Both of our sleep has been interrupted for some unknown reason. My otherwise happy toddler is now annoyed by this unforeseen grievance and is calling out for my help to navigate through this trying and at best find the solution to this.

Umm, I don’t know who lied to her but I don’t have the answers. At best I have Jesus and Google. All I can do is pray and assess. But here we are.

After debating the next best step I know what I don’t want to do. I don’t want to bring into my bed. I don’t feel like wrestling a toddler tonight. My body has been through enough and is still going through it. I don’t want to be up all night either. I don’t want to hear crying. So I do what I believe is the next best thing. I pick her and lay her in my chest. A mother’s hug is always welcomed. I let my chest be her pillow and allow her to feel safe by my presence. I don’t know if I’m doing it right. But I know that her breathing has slowed down. Her body. I longer tense nor stressed. She’s sleeping peacefully.

It’s moments like these I’m reminded of what patience, grace and love can accomplish. In the moments that it took for me to write this blog post, my little one has fallen asleep. As I’m get ready to bring her back to her bed, I’m aware that this same kind patience shown to be me I must show to myself. Life is a series of transitions. Some are annoying and some are great. How we handle them makes us great.

Bittersweet Mother’s Day

This year is bittersweet. I live in Ontario where we seeming to be in a never ending lockdown. It’s taking a toll on me mentally and in a way that I wasn’t prepared for. I have exasperated all of my self care arsenal and after the bomb has gone off I’m left cleaning up my own mess.

Mother’s Day has been awkward for me. From the moment that I gave birth to my firstborn and now four years later, two kids later and three pregnancies later I find it really hard to celebrate. It’s like a birthday that everyone forgets about until the day off. The worst part is my birthday is often forgotten to begin with. Those who remember Mother’s Day are usually the ones old enough to do for themselves or to remind their father to do something for their mother. My kids are still very young. I should be the one reminding them of what today means to me but to be honest I don’t know what it means to do.

In the past, I’ve tried to celebrate Mother’s Day with my own mom and it wasn’t always received well. I remember when I was told, “If you loved me you would obey me. You would do your chores. That’s love.” That stayed with me. I knew that I could never measure up to that standard because everyday there was something I couldn’t do.

I guess it started from there. Now I’ve got my own and I wish it wasn’t so. I see mothers being celebrated by their husbands and children. Some are going away on trips and receiving lavish gifts. Meanwhile, I’m in the middle of potty training a very strong willed 20 month old and dealing with a four year old with enough sass to punch every nerve in my body. There’s a growing pile of laundry that needs to be addressed before I run out of sweat suits and underwear. There’s a stain in the kitchen floor that been bothering me for days. There’s feeling of missing out as I see mothers enjoying wine while I’ve got an unborn treating my uterus like a gymnasium.

I could say I’m tired but that would be understatement. In all honesty, I don’t know what I am anymore. Is it exhaustion? Is it tired? Is it depression? Is it failure? Is it heaviness? Sadness? Hormones? I don’t know.

If you’re in the same boat as me this post is for you. I see you. We’re carrying the mental and spiritual load of our loved ones so they can keep smiling and they feel loved. We want them to be remembered to feel validated at the cost of our existence. We want to give them an experience contrary to the experience that we are living. We are doing our best in a world that continues to tell us that we are coming up short. The nights are longs. The sleep is restless. We struggle to make sense of what is happening based on our past experiences. We want to show up and to serve our loved ones well. We’re seeking help without being a burden to those who love us and those we love. We want to be seen. We want to be validated. We want to live in every sense of the word without reservations.

This post is for you. You wake up everyday hoping that this is the day everything will fall into place. You hope that your past will be contradictory to your future. You wake up hoping to see your prayers answered without something bad happening alongside the good. You want to enjoy today because it’s precious. You hope today is different from yesterday.

This day is for you. There’s enough room for you this Mother’s Day. There’s enough room to laugh, to cry, to enjoy and to mourn. There’s enough room to seek help, to find peace and have rest. This Mother’s Day is for you too. It’s not exclusive for the Instagram mom who’s got it all together. This Mother’s Day is not exclusive to the rich and wealthy. It’s for the struggling, it’s for the fighters who are serving through the pain and tears. If you haven’t slept in years or maybe you do sleep soundly, this day is for you. If you’ve made some bad choices, this Mother’s Day is for you. If no one in your family remembers to celebrate you, this day is for you too. I celebrate you.

I celebrate me. It won’t look like what I post online. I don’t know if I’ll put on some make up. I’m sure I’ll be chasing my toddler around with the miniature potty trying to avoid as many spills as possible. Of course, unsuccessfully. I’ll be doing the laundry since it can’t be done by itself. I’ll be receiving kisses and hugs as a form of love. I know I’ll get lots of “Happy Mother’s Day!” from strangers and loved ones alike. This day won’t be memorable for me. But I see me. I see my work and I know my worth.

This day is for me too.

Show up And Serve

I woke up this morning and I was absolutely miserable. I mean, literally woke up ready to cry my eyes out. I didn’t get a chance to process my emotions as I was trying to understand how I could wake up from my sleep and still feel like I haven’t slept at all. Those are the worst kinds of sleep. Needless to say I was exhausted physically. As I was contemplating getting out of bed and justifying delaying my morning routine while everyone was still sleeping, I heard my youngest call out to her father. He was just about ready to go to work. Of course, I got up, got her and brought her to my bed. Sometimes, I can get her to lay down with me for a while, while I gather my thoughts together.

It wasn’t long before my husband came into the room and needed me to take care of something that needed my immediate attention. This is not the way I wanted to begin my morning. I just needed a moment to gather my thoughts. It was being taken from me, moment by moment. Piece by piece. With my head on my pillow, I placed my arm over my eyes, avoiding the emotional flood that was about to hit me. I knew it was coming. All the alarm bells were going off and I couldn’t evacuate.

Is there anything I could have done?

As I laid there, all I did was try to find the missing link. I needed to find the culprit. I knew it was me. I knew that I was stressed about things I couldn’t control. But, there’s this innate desire in me to fix all that is broken. My online presence was suffering and all I could do was see my shortcomings. Could I have done anything differently? I wasn’t making any money. All these prospects were drying up. I was becoming as irrelevant as I had believed myself to be. Maybe I had been over confident, I overshot my shot. I should have just done what always works, that is being afraid and running away.

Truth is, I don’t want to go back to the way things were. There’s nothing wrong with being working a 9-5 but it’s not for me. I can’t do it. I can’t work for someone else making enough money to pay half of bills. I can’t go back to spending my energy being someone other than me for majority of the time. I am not that person. I don’t want to be successfully broke. I don’t want to update my resume in hopes that some government worker is going to take pity on the fact that I’m a minority who is also bilingual. Mind you that hasn’t worked either.

What to do?

Someone commented on a post I made and what they said resonated with me.

“We don’t give up. We keep showing up and eventually things will get better.”

You know what? She’s right. I don’t know what will happen in a month or two. All I have is the last four months to go on. I know something’s got to change and it will. I know it won’t happen overnight and I still have a lot of learning. There are still some major life transitioning phases that I will have to navigate. I can only my best with what I have. My only hope is that it’s enough.

We need to be inspired effectually and effectively. You and I both know that this world is far from perfect. For years, we’ve been told what is and is not acceptable by people who have the funds to sell their message. We’ve bought their message and believe their story to only find out that it was a lie all along. This is not the kind of message I want my daughters to believe.

I started this to prove to myself that I have what it takes to be the woman that my children can be proud to call their mother. But most importantly, I need to prove to myself that I am not wasted potential. I am not just an influencer or that girl who used to be smart. I am not just a housewife that is dependent on her husband for a paycheck. I am not a poser on the ‘gram trying to get like and comments. I am more than that.

I am a living and breathing testimony that anything can happen if you’re willing to have faith and put in the work. I have seen domestic abuse first hand. I know what it’s like to be homeless. I know what it’s like to be an undocumented immigrant. I know what it’s like to feel rejected, to be told that your feelings are invalid. I know to be knocked off a pedestal that was build for you by those who “believed” in you just to be knocked down and have your head hit the ground. The reason is I keep coming back is because I have a job to do.

I have to serve my community, near and far. I may not be remembered for my work but as long as my words inspire you to get up and keep fighting for your destiny then I have done my job. If you are able to relate to this and still choose to get up and keep going then I’m doing my job.

You are living breathing miracle. You have survived all the trauma and criticism you’ve faced. Your energy transcends your presence and continuously affect those you have encountered. Your smile is infectious and cause others to feel at peace. That is a blessing. Better yet, you are a blessing. You may not realize it but your time is coming. Whatever happens, show up and serve.

5 Things (NEw) Moms Don’t want to hear

Hi there! I want to start off by saying thank you. Thank you for being you and for checking out my blog. You could be doing anything but here you are with me. I honestly appreciate your support.

As a mother of a 3 year and 1 year old, there are certain comments that I have heard and will probably continue to hear from others. For some reason, some people just don’t know how to speak to people and forget that mothers are human beings who just don’t need to be reminded that their womanhood is constantly being judged by society. So this may come off as a rant but I assure that my goal is to educate and hopefully help you be more sensitive to your new mom friend or loved one. And if you’ve been on the receiving end of these comments, I know how you feel.

Mind you this may not apply to every mom you meet but most of it will. Also just because this new mom is your BFF or relative, it doesn’t make your words any less hurtful. Moms go through a lot and the last thing we need is to be reminded that we are not the way we were. Believe me, WE KNOW!

  1. You look tired! – Wow! I wonder what gave it away. How puffy my eyes are? The dull look on my face? The fact that the life and well being of my children depends on my being available 24/7 without any days of or reprieve. Or that no matter how hard I try to relax when someone actually decides to take care of my children, my brain won’t stop imagining the absolute worst case scenario to remind me that I am helpless when it comes to the constant worrying over my children’s life. Please just bring me coffee and shut up. It better be the good kind too and not that crappy cheap stuff too. Thank you!
  2. You should breastfeed/bottle feed/feed more/feed less– Unless you are ready to be put in your place, keep your comments to yourself. Unless you are a licensed health care professional with backed scientific knowledge that will greatly improve the quality of life for the child that I literally just pushed out of my vagina in the presence of the designated people just keep it moving. You can not out love my child. It’s not possible. When the baby was in my womb, the baby grew and thrived. This baby is my responsibility and until you see signs of neglect or abuse just don’t go there. My baby is fed and happy and thriving.
  3. You should do something with your baby’s hair– Says who?! Hair grows and falls out naturally. The state of my child’s hair is hardly cause for concern unless (again!) licensed health care professional sees an underlying medical concern that needs to be addressed. Hair comes and grows. Whether I put barrettes or braid his/her hair is not going to affect the state of my child’s well being. It’s better to raise happy children who are confident in the way they look as opposed to pleasing the society’s status quo as to what a child should look like.
  4. How come you’re not losing weight? – A mother’s body …let me rephrase a woman’s body is not anybody’s source of visual entertainment. Her body, her choice. Furthermore, mothers have a hard time accepting the new body she has obtained, for crying out loud, give her time to appreciate the level of efficacy at which her entire reproductive organs have worked alongside with the rest of her body to maintain her and another human’s life. The execution with such precision that she can and will do again (if God sees it fit) is enough to celebrate that without the scrutiny of some loose skin and excess fat. AND BY THE WAY, that excess fat is tremendously important in the well being and safe keeping of that baby during it’s time in the womb. Did you think she’d push it out along with the baby and the placenta?! Every woman is different and every journey is equally different. Just feed her and tell her she’s beautifully amazing because she is. Don’t forget the cookies!
  5. Enjoy it while it last!– I want to, I really want to but I AM TIRED!!!!! There’s not enough coffee to keep me sane during this time. I don’t sleep, my body doesn’t match what my brain says I should look like, my kids need me, my husband needs me, I need me and I look and smell like the swamp thing except I just reek of body odor. What’s to enjoy? Sleeplessness? Let me dial it back. Yes they are cute and yes I love them to pieces. Yes they complete a part of me that I didn’t know I had. I love it but let a sister vent without the condemnation. If you miss it so much you’d have a baby in your house right now, keeping you and your household awake too. But guess what? You know their cuteness is a trap just as much as I do. So how about we “enjoy” this frustrating moment of motherhood.

Looking back at this post I clearly had some underlying frustrations that I needed to release. Unfortunately, these comments usually come from people who mean well and actually are looking out for our best interest. That in itself is really annoying because it hurts more. You figure they would know better but turns out they don’t.

How do you think I got here?

Did I miss a comment? Let me know in the comment section.

Why Johnsons Cottontouch Baby Lotion Is My Bedtime Secret Weapon

Hi there! Thank you so much for checking out my blog today. I really appreciate your support and believe me, I am really grateful you took the time out to read this blog. Some of the products displayed on this blog have been gifted to me and this post may contain affiliate. If you choose to buy from these links you won’t pay extra, you fact you may even save money. I’ll get a commission which will keep this blog going. However, all opinions expressed are completely my own.

By now you’ve heard of the Johnson’s Cottontouch baby lotion which was a part of their massive rebranding launch back in 2018. If you’re a mother to a baby or a toddler, then I’m sure you’ve heard of this lotion unless you’ve been living under a rock. This lotion is designed and formulated with newborns in mind. This is great for their sensitive skin. This newborn face and body lotion is extremely light, has a very thin consistency, almost milk-like. It absorbs extremely quickly into the skin and provides 24 hours worth of moisture.

The whole idea behind Cottontouch is that from the moment they are born, you can from that connection with your new babythrough touch. Touch is so important as it is one of the most powerful way to form that bond.

However I didn’t realize how much I would love this lotion for not just my baby but for both of my girls. Aside from the fast absorption and it’s ability to provide moisture without causing my girls’ skin to have a reaction, the fragrance is what makes this lotion so worthwhile. It’s also the reason why a year later after the birth of my baby, I am still using this lotion on her.

The lotion smells like cotton and it is so soothing. When I get my girls ready for bed the most important thing is to avoid anything that can stimulate them. I’m trying to avoid stimulation because by the time bedtime rolls around this mama is tired. I need to wind down myself.

Since the first time I’ve used this on my girls, the smells instantly lifts my mood. It’s therapeutic in a way. I apply it to their body and I see them smile because we’re usually talking about the day and I’m doing a silly face. It is a part of our bedtime routine.

I love that it doesn’t leave my hands sticky or heavy. It doesn’t matter how many pumps for lotion I use my baby’s skin is soft and moisturized and so is my hands. It’s perfect all season long.

Is there a bedtime staple that you can’t go without? Let me know in the comments.



*LIKETOKNOW.IT SANDYESPRIT

*GRENADE USE PROMO CODE SANDY

*PERSONA NUTRITION SANDY50

*AMPLI CASH BACK AMPLI5

Vichy Normaderm Phytosolution Giveaway

Hi there! Thank you so much for being here. Your support as always means the world to me. In this vlog, I have collaborated with Vichy to share with you a really simple and effective three step skin care routine that is gentle on the skin and super effective in getting rid of acne, even if your skin is sensitive like mine. GIVEAWAY ALERT: This video does include a giveaway alert so stay tuned to the end to see how you can get your hands on these amazing products. For the rules of giveaway visit me on Instagram http://www.instagram.com/iamsandyesprit Disclaimer: This vlog is sponsored by Vichy but all opinions expressed in this videos are my own. Don’t forget to SUBSCRIBE to the channel, LIKE this video and SHARE with your friends and family. Filming Tools: iPhone 8 8” ring light Editing app: iMovie app Check what else I’m doing online and click this link to stay up to date http://www.iamsandyesprit.com/linkinbio #vichy #skincare #review #giveaway #ad

Lay, Slay and Keep Your Edges

Hi there! Thank you so much for checking out my blog. I really appreciate your support and as always all opinions expressed are my own. All items shown in this blog were bought by me, so hopefully that will ease your mind as to the validity of my thoughts. 

So let’s get it!

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My Edges Are Back!

My hair line left me when I gave birth to my daughter. I’m not going to lie, I was very upset about this. During the pregnancy my hair was thriving, then I gave birth and my edges just up and left. But eventually they came back and now I get to use lay my edges. 

 

 

What You Need

Water (optional)

Got2b styling gel

Toothbrush

Hair scarf

Instructions

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  1. Separate a thin section (very thin) of the front of your hair away from the rest of your hair. 
  2. (this step is optional) Spray the thin part of your hair with water. 
  3. Squeeze a pea-sized amount of gel into your finger. You want to start small and build up. Using too much will create a tacky mess and you don’t want that. Your skin deserve better (thanks for coming to my Ted talk)!
  4. Apply the gel on a section of your hair. 
  5. Brush the hair in a semi circle towards the rest of the hair. You can use your finger to help manipulate the hair. 
  6. Once all the sectioned edges have been laid down, use a scarf to keep the hair down until the gel dries
  7. Once the gel is dry, gently remove the scarf. 

Edges Laid

Just like that you’ve got your edges laid and you’re ready to slay. Let me know how it worked out for you.

Was there a step I missed? Let me know in the comments. 

Postpartum Sexyback

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Hi there. Thank you so much for checking my blog. Your continued support is really appreciated. As I look toward the end of the week I am reminded that my wedding anniversary is coming up. I cannot believe how fast time has gone. .

Let’s Catch Up

shared1We’re going on 5 years of marital bliss and so much has happened since. Let me list the ways:

  • I’ve given birth to two beautiful girls
  • I no longer fit in my wedding dress as a result
  • I found out that I can survive without sleep when necessary
  • I love being at home
  • My body has done for me and my girls than I ever thought it could
  • I have tiger stripes also know as cellulite

Honestly, much more has happened but for the sake of this post I decided to focus on me. In case you missed it, what I listed are the changes in my physical appearance and it wasn’t by accident. 

Physical Confidence

20180902_181353-01796336718.jpegWhen I was younger I was really insecure about how thin I was. It was very common for someone to comment on my weight and my lack of it. I was very self-conscious about my butt, I was told it was too big. I cared about the length of my hair and how I never was able to retain any length. The list goes on. 

Fast forward a few years and I finally see the beauty in my thin frame and every curve of my body. I began to appreciate the woman I saw in the mirror. It also helped when Tyra Banks reposted one of my selfies…good times. But then I got pregnant. 

I knew the weight gain would be temporary and I was expecting a speedy weight loss because I had a plan. I remember the night when I realized that I had nothing in my closet that fit. I wasn’t making a lot of money so it’s not like I could’ve gone on a shopping. I sat down on my bed and I began to cry. My husband came in and consoled me. He reassured me that I was still beautiful in his eyes but at that point it didn’t matter. 

Postpartum 

20170531_165226.gifOnce I had my girls, I was grateful for their health and while I was savouring every part of motherhood, I began to miss my “normal” body or what I grew accustomed to be my “normal” body. I found myself bumping into things. I was becoming clumsy.

My knees were beginning to hurt doing simple squats and lunges. I really hated that. I was feeling aches and pains that I wasn’t accustomed to. I also couldn’t fit into my clothes and my size had gone from 4 to 14 within the span of a year. I found myself shying away from anything that didn’t stretch or hide from my tummy. This began to hurt my confidence. 

How was I going to get my sexy back?

Journey to Sexy

First I had to realize that sexy isn’t based on size but on self confidence. My husband still finds me attractive and so it’s not coming from him. It’s all internal. I needed to shut that voice up and counter it with the truth. Here’s the truth:

  • My body birthed 2 babies
  • my body fed 2 babies
  • my body can move
  • my body continues to surprise me and allows me to overcome any challenge thrown at me

You see my body wasn’t the problem. My mind was. So I decided to start working out. I started buying work out clothes. Cute ones that would brighten my mood. I started participating in challenges that forced me to put on makeup and get dressed. I even started buying clothes that fit and shows off my figure. 

Now here I am loving my body for what it is. I mean why not? My husband doesn’t have that issue. 

Have you felt this way before?