Introducing My Big Fat African Family

African Family - Love, Peace, and Tiny Feet

Let me start this post by saying that I truly love being around my Big Fat African family. They are big, not fat, but definitely African (Liberian) and all that entails…

But it entails a group of individuals who have been in America for over 30 years, refuse to assimilate and only swear by doing things “The African Way.” Growing up, I wanted nothing more than for my mom to just fit in with the other parents. She would go to parent teacher meetings fully dressed from head to toe in colorful African garb making sure she stood out from the other moms dressed in plaid skirts. Head. to. Toe. Our house was decorated with African masks and quite a bit of wooden furniture no one knew how to sit on. (This was before Pier 1 started manufacturing African stuff). The smell of fufu and soup would always fill the air, and you’d much prefer that over the harsh and bitter aroma of brewing ginger beer on special occasions, or worse – taking them out to a restaurant and having them insist on bringing their own jar of fried pepper to add to a meal! Yes…that has happened!

I’ve come to appreciate them though as I’ve gotten older and can honestly say they are as much loving and supportive and fun as they are boisterous, stubborn, and filled with drama. Over the years, I have also grown to understand that there is really a thin line between concerned parents and downright nosy and invasive. I talk to my mom at least once a day and she insists on knowing every single detail of my life – from what I’m cooking for dinner to how many times my daughter used the potty. Seriously!

So it goes without saying that them not being here for the birth of my first born was a pretty big deal. In fact, my mom was actually at the airport on her way here when Leila was born. This go around, my mom is determined to make it down here in time for baby#2’s birth. She’s planning to have all her bags packed and hitting the road at my first sign of labor. And she’s bringing the whole family…cuz that’s how they roll!

Now, I’ll say it again, I love being around my big fat African family. However…during labor???

How can I put this gently? My family brings a lot of…well, EVERYTHING. Pretty much every minor event can become a big deal in just a matter of seconds. A perfect example – last time I was home, Leila tripped over something and fell down at my mom’s house a few months ago and this is how it went (accent that won’t go away and all):

Me: Leila, are you ok?
Leila: Yes, I’m ok
Mom: (in a panic) What happened to Leila?
Me: She fell. She’s ok.
Grandma: (in a bigger panic) She fell? Wha you mean de geh fell? She fell down? Eh Mehn. Where she fell? How?
Mom: Who left that (whatever the object was) over there? I bet it was that damn Chadia (my 16 year old sister). Oh my God, Leila ah you ok?
Leila: yes, I’m ok
Me: She’s fine!
Mom: Where is dah geh? CHADIA!!!
Chadia: Yeah
Mom: (yelling) Why did you leave blablabla ova dere? Didn’t I tell you to move it? You never listen. Why are you so stubborn? All you care about is …(typical mom-teenager rant)
Chadia: I’ll move it. Geez, what’s the big deal?
Grandma: (more yelling) You mean to tell me that liy geh fell and hurt herself. Didn’t your ma tell you to move it? Why you so stubborn? And so on….

Meanwhile, Leila is playing with her toys, completely unharmed and over the whole thing…and they are all still carrying on. And then just when things start to calm down, in walks my dad who says, “Oh, what happened to Leila?” ….and the whole thing starts all over again!

Don’t get me wrong, I do see the pure COMEDY in situations like this. However, let’s be honest, this is it going to be that funny when I’m in labor!