As much as I shout, scream or even bark, I would never ever let my man down. Same with my children. Whoever hurts or disrespect him would automatically be on my black list for good.
Of course I would every now and then be your typical wife. I would curse him in front of relatives and close friends. Say how annoying he can be and so on. My mother can’t stand this lol. I sometimes wonder if she doesn’t love him more than me?! Woman, I am your child not him! He is white for Africa’s sake!!
In my culture the son in law is always right not the daughter in law but come ooooooooon!!
I would say bad things about him but I will never allow anyone to say anything nasty about him. Not in my presence for sure. I am his wife, cursing him is my right and my duty!
If someone does and I don’t react or simply smile that person should know that they have just drawn the biggest red cross on them. Robin would be annoyed with someone but after a while put it behind him and forget about what had happened (does he??) and carry on as if nothing ever occurred. I do not. I would rather have someone be mean to me than to him. Try to watch any female animal with their babies and see what happens when one of them is being attacked… This is what I am. I gladly become vicious. Concerning my children I don’t even want to write about it.
I would have left if he was still using when we met but not if we had had children. In my family, my country, my culture we do not divorce even if/when the husband or partner is a fucking piece of rotten shit that should have been aborted. It is like that and we accept it. However, nowadays we do have exceptions… unfortunately. People are leaving the continent the countries to study abroad and when they return to Africa, they return bringing in their mental and carry on luggages some western habits. Freedom ( for men, women and children), courage to dare doing things that are normally forbidden by society such as leaving someone for someone else, divorcing, smoking if front of adults for teenagers, baring tattoos for women, taking drugs and other insignificant/significant things (I would say this now). I am not blaming the West for my folks “emancipation” if I can call it like that. I am just mentioning a few things with the divorce in particular to show that back in the days a divorce or a woman raising her voice while talking to her man was a big NO NO (I wonder if I would have coped back in those years.. It would have been funny. I remember my spanish teacher in secondary school saying to me in front of the whole classroom that I was the kind of women that should be beaten up every morning from 4 to 6… 0_o. I laughed. I won’t today. I wish he could see me now.) kids smoking in front of their parents wasn’t even imaginable…

I am one of those who strongly and deeply believe in staying with a partner no matter what especially when there is a child involved. My mother did, both my grandmothers did and I know I will. Even if it means making my partner’s life hell on earth 😉
Some of you reading this (women especially) are right at this instant raising both eyebrows turning them into a colourless rainbow digging more lines on their foreheads. Well that’s me. I may regret it one day who knows but I rather do so than find myself 20 years along the line saying to myself what if, what if. At least I know what I am staying with rather than trying to check on the other side of the fence and find a grass so bitter it tastes like nothing. My life, my present and my future all this, is for my kids and my husband. Ivorian people say people marry against each other not to. I am married against Robin and I accept and love it!

I am not well phisically and mentally when one of them is ill. I hate Robin being ill, thank God it doesn’t happen frequently. Boy, does he get on my very sensible tit when he is, behaving like the child he is. Those are the only moments I wish we had separate rooms. At the same time, it wouldn’t work as I would not close both eyes and would spend all night checking up on him. Same thing with his snoring (sorry darling but this is my blog! ;). I hate it but will not sleep if he doesn’t or stop in the middle of the night. I imagine that he is not breathing anymore and panic takes over me. When this happens I nudge him a bit or turn him over and guess what… the symphony is back. I know I am crazy.
When my kids are ill, just imagine me.
I tend to tell people when they ask me how many children i have that I have 3, Robin being the eldest, Pips the middle one and Lia Chintaho the youngest. Lia Chintaho because she has chinese-mongolian like eyes. At one point when we left the hospital after her birth I thought the midwife exchanged her, but luckily she looks so much like her dad and as her paternal grandfather pointed out once when we told him she just couldn’t stop frowning, he used to do the same when he was a baby. From what I heard and saw Lia is a carbon copy of her father and grandfather at the same age, 2. Hopefully she hasn’t inherited their genes.

I over protect my family. I can’t stop myself behaving like an embarrassing mother with Robin in particular. Wether we are alone or in public I do things like removing ketchup in the corner of his mouth, you know, with the saliva on my finger tip. He hates it and the more he complains the more I want to get rid of it. Also, I am ridiculously hopeless when he is next to me chewing on something, because I will always say what are you eating and he will always reply, nothing. The nothing just raises the hair on my neck, I simply go for his mouth and try opening it wide. Do I care?! Nope!! He will eventually give up one day and reply the way I want ^_*
I remember us coming from Verbier in 2005 after a disastrous (for me that is) snowboarding trip, standing on the plane waiting for one of the crew members to allocate us 3 seats so that I could rest my left leg (I broke two ligaments in the back of my knee falling of the chairlift. Thank you Robin. 😉 I know what you’re thinking right now but I know you pushed me with your “Jum jump jump!”
Bref, (meaning in short in french. Some of you should probably buy a french dictionary. Some stuff are better said in my native language.) he had something on his face. I can’t remember what it was but i know I had/needed to remove it and he didn’t want me to because people were passing by. I promised I was sad with tears in my eyes. (silly me!)
Some people say the fact that I was born in July, being a cancer did shape my personality. I don’t believe in any of this but I should look into it one day. I just think it is the way I am. I am kind of the same with my friends but less extreme.

When I am the mother, I don’t care I just crack open his bubble.
When I am the wife, I let him be and give him his space.
When I am the friend, I try and don’t insist.

Mimi, me…