Gestation...

Six weeks. Seems like so little, but a lot has formed in that amount of time. A heartbeat. Little nubbies for hands. A tail! Lol, I love you already - you're a Martian just like me. This constant hunger is a sign that you are truly my child; everyone knows I love to eat. You take as much time as you want in this tummy of mine, I could wait for years just to see your chunky little face shining up at me, but eight more months will do. It is an honor and a blessing to be your mother. 

I haven't told the world yet - because I want to see you for myself first. I won't pretend I'm not nervous, but I'm more excited than anything. If you knew where I've been in life, you'd understand why. One day when your older, my dear. Your daddy can't wait to see you, he's already buying a shiny new toy for your protection... 

Alas, I must sleep now. We've got to save our energy for next week, when you start moving those little limbs of yours. I'll be here for every step, every motion, every burp. Got blessed me when he made you... 

The Refuge in Solace...

It's ironic how someone can be an unwanted celebrity. Back when I was younger, I used to be wingman to the cool kids. The nerdy girl who knew everyone. Even then I didn't notice how many people actually knew me. It wasn't until twelfth grade, where I'd hear people whizzing by me between classes saying "Hey Kimani. Whatup Kim?" I'd smile and wave, with no idea who just said what because my glasses were in my backpack. Kinda feels like that now. People watching my constant movements, and I have no clue.

I guess you can say I brought it on myself.

Being a friendly person as well as growing my business has made it nearly impossible to not put myself "out there." I'm constantly documenting my travels, talking about life experiences and simply sharing photos with friends and family. I never really realized that people were documenting everything I did; my foodporn, my clothes, my song quotes. Later, these things would be held against me, sometimes in jest and other times in jealousy. Sometimes it's hard to decipher the two.

It becomes uncomfortable after a while. Once comments stop being, "great pics from Jamaica - that food looked great" and turn into "You're always traveling - when do you work?" With a bitter undertone or a sneak diss giggle. Or, "when do you stop eating?" "What is foodporn?" Little do they know how hard I work on a regular basis. Even since scoring a sweet office job, I'm not supervising dozens of people and still on my feet. It's exhausting. The least I can do is lay up for a couple days on a beach somewhere. Work hard, play hard - right?

No one wants to hear that.

So, I've decided to revert to my place of comfort - my blog. People read it, by the hundreds of thousands - but never do I really get the same amount of uncomfortable feedback as I do about Facebook and Instagram. This is home, the judge free zone. Anyone who has reservations about my thoughts and feelings tend to keep them to themselves around here, and I greatly appreciate that. Instead of cross-promoting posts, I'll post them quietly and move on. Just like how it used to be. I hope you guys are still ready to ride.