Grounded for life

There are very few things I like about confinement. So much so that I find myself breaking a lot of the confinement rules much to the displeasure of the older generation who 'tsk' their way through my bathing and washing my hair daily as well as finding excuses to nip out of the house. I don't do close quarters well. Never have. When I was expecting the twins and was put on 2 weeks bedrest, I used to order Packrat to take me out for drives at night just so that I could get out of the house. I will be one of those prisoners-of-war that will break the minute I am put into solitary confinement.

Anyway, there are some things that I actually do like about confinement. I like the fact that I have a nanny who helps with Muffin although some would say I am just delaying the inevitable because come 28 days, I will have to fend for myself. But that's another story altogether.

I do also like the fact that I get to be massaged everyday for 7 days. This is to get rid of the pregnancy belly and the older generation believes that it also tones the uterus, which prevents future prolapses. How it works is I get bound, with a piece of cloth 10m. I am bound within an inch of our life. My Facebook update for the first few days was "Ondine is bound so tight she could be in a Jane Austen novel" or Kiera Knightly in Pride and Prejudice and Pirates of the Caribbean or Kate Winslet in Titanic. And for the duration of my being wrapped up, I look like I have a beautifully svelte figure. Thankfully the suffering and the tolerating of strong lemongrass oil has worked and I don't look pregnant anymore.
























Once the nanny realised that fighting me on the bathing issue was a lost cause, she insisted that I had to bathe in an herbal concoction. That is my other favourite thing about confinement. The herbal bath water. It smells heavenly and makes your skin tingle after having poured it all over. Spa going women all over pay lots of money to have such baths drawn for them at the spa. The only thing different between my experience and a spa one is that my bath water is unceremoniously dumped into a large blue pail and I scoop it out with a container and pour it all over myself. But even that holds charm for me because it brings back memories of how I used to take baths in my grandmother's house before she had a shower head installed. A boiling kettle of water into the sink, mixed with cold water and a scoop to scoop it out with.



















So, for all the angst that I go through during confinement and even on a good day, there is some, there are little nuggets that keep me sane. Thank God for the little things.



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