The creeklands

Walking along the meandering, glistening creek with you snug against my chest, close to my heart, beating gently the afternoon away –

Together, you and I walking

As the water sounds, the graceful fall of the tiniest droplet in the distance.

A silent symphony of evergreen leaves, curled twigs and sweet blossom rustle ever so still beneath us as noisy school children run past, quick like a gust of wind, leaving only footprints in the brown dirt that is our humble track.

And the sun, oh how she gleams radiance making the wattle sparkle golden amber from her touch – perhaps, like happiness captured and bottled.

And a badelynge of ducks waddle across our path, oblivious to our presence they go about their afternoon undisturbed, walking together, too.

All the while a volary of rainbow lorikeets, rosellas and bellbirds bellow over our heads.

We listen to their enchanting birdsong and watch them, as they guide us all the way home, until the last bird flies away, taking the afternoon with him.   

Sydney, next week baby

THIS time next week we'll be heading to the airport to catch a plane to Sydney. It will be baby Lila's first time in the air. I'm hoping it'll be a smooth ride where we're all cloud gazing through the tiny oval windows (and seeing blue skies, hopefully).

But it could be the kind of flight that leaves us with our ears ringing louder than church bells for our eight broken* weeks there (*we come back for a week after three weeks, then head back for two and a half.** My first asterisk. Now I feel like Mark Dapin).

The last time we visited Sydney was for a different kind of trip - with friends to relax, hang out at the beach, go out and drink until we were merry. All the usual stuff young-ish people do pre-baby. This time, B has a work-funded training course and Lila and I are tagging along. Generously, it's all expenses (minus our flights) paid, including accommodation at a four-star hotel in the central city, thanks very much.

Now all we have to do is work out what and how we're going to get everything packed so there's no chance our luggage will tip the plane tail into the ocean. Lila's port-a-cot alone weighs 15.5 kilograms.

If anyone has any tips on first-time flying with an infant, please share them here.

From belly to bassinet: surviving the first weeks with a new baby (or a bumpy ride through early motherhood)

Three point five months ago, I gave birth to my first baby — a beautiful baby girl we called Lilia Rose or just Lila for short.

Thinking about the first clouded days of motherhood and the blur they’ve left behind, I’m reminded of the car ride home from the hospital.

For me, taking our baby girl home was the first mum milestone, a bright marker in the meandering road of my life. It surprised me with the exciting, wonderful and nerve-storm-havoc-causing realisation I was responsible for another human life: I had become a mother.

While my legs still resembled large hot air balloons that could transform the grey Melbourne skyline to a fiery, crimson red, my pregnant belly was gone. I had given birth, finally. I had a daughter and she was beautiful. 

Sitting in the back seat next to baby Lila, who looked tiny in her car seat, while her daddy drove slower than usual, I smiled: we were bringing our baby home for the first time.

But I also found myself biting my nails. I never expected to be so protective of someone I had only met a few days ago. Surely, this wasn’t what I should be feeling?

I closed my eyes as we turned through the intersection to distract from worries about other cars: what if they’re driving too fast and don’t see us? What if their brakes fail or someone runs a red light? What if…?  

Placing my arms around Lila whenever we turned a sharp corner, I sang ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’ to her to muffle the traffic noise. She listened while looking directly at me, oblivious, unlike me, to the cars around us.

As I caught her dad’s eye in the rear-view mirror, my mind raced faster than the cars around Albert Park Lake during grand prix season: was our house baby proof, how would we cope in winter, what if she gets a cold, what temperature should the heating be on, how soon could I read Aesop’s fables to her, would she need more grow-suits, do babies wear socks, how much sleep will she need, how often should I feed her, and how many baby wipes does it take to clean a poo-stained bottom properly?

But what struck me like a tonne of soiled nappies is: how was I going to survive the first weeks with a new baby? 

I didn’t have the answer then and I don’t now. What I can offer to first-time mums reading this is a list of things that helped me navigate through those messy, confusing and precious first weeks.

First things first list

• Look after yourself as well as your baby. This means make time every day to do something nice for yourself, such as a bath when your partner comes home from work or when your baby is sleeping.

• You’ve heard this before, but sleep when your baby sleeps. If like me, you find it difficult to sleep during the day, try to sleep longer in the morning after a feed. If you really can’t sleep, at least lie down and relax with a magazine (and forget the dishes).

• Go outside even if the skies are grey and it’s cold. Rug-up and let the crisp air soothe you and your baby. Don’t forget to put the rain cover in the pram and take a brolly with you, too.

• Accept ALL offers of help from family and friends. When people cook meals for you (especially your mum), it doesn’t mean they think you can’t manage dinner, it means they care.

• Take time to get to know your baby. Everything is new to your baby just like mothering is new to you. Whatever you’re feeling, it is normal (if you feel down more than happy, tell someone).

• Breastfeeding can drive you bonkers. It can be a bumpy ride and getting it right (for you) won’t happen overnight. Make an appointment with a lactation consultant for advice. It’s free through your local council.

• When approaching the shopping centre escalators don’t walk up them the wrong way, particularly with a pram but do remember to pay for your parking ticket before getting to the exit barrier.

With baby Lila snug in my arms, I walked from the car into the house. Placing my baby girl in her bassinet, with a gentle kiss I whispered in her perfect little ear: ‘I’m your mummy sweetie. Welcome home.’

If you have a story about your experience of early motherhood or fatherhood, I would love to hear from you.  

The Cute Beach House

Morning, written on Saturday

THIS morning I woke-up feeling good. Hallelujah, a good night’s sleep – perhaps the best I’ve had since before the last slow months of being pregnant. 

I had spent most of yesterday packing for our first family weekend getaway – stopping to sing, dance and entertain my three-month-old baby girl to keep her smiling as she watched from her rocker, patiently. I must have done something right as Lila laughed the day away and by the time we were on the road to Rosebud in the early evening, she was fast asleep.

My bare feet feel light as they tap across the rustic wooden floorboards despite the cold middle of a winter’s morning. But inside, my heart feels warm and full. 

Having woken-up to Lila’s late cry, after her morning feed, with her father beside me, the three of us huddle in bed oblivious to anything but the love and warmth in the room. 

One of the things I love about the Cute Beach House is it’s simplicity in design and understated charm. There are no distractions and it’s oh so quiet – even with our baby girl with us. It’s the perfect place to read, write and enjoy the company of the most important people in my life – my family. 

The other thing I really like is not knowing the time, therefore not being rushed to get up, wash and change, make breakfast, do housework, (insert usual Saturday morning ritual here) and the list goes on. Instead, we laze the morning away playing with Lila, slowly making breakfast, reading all the favourite bits of the Saturday paper. 

And here I am now writing again after a few weeks’ break sitting in the sun room looking out at the verdant green landscape of trees before me, as I soak-up the sunshine glistening through the window. This becomes our marker for time and it’s time for a walk to the beach before winter’s grey blanket covers the sky.  

Afternoon

Back from our beach walk feeling refreshed, having put Lila down to bed as she had fallen asleep in the pram, we put together a decadent platter of cheese, dips and crisp bread crackers to go with a glass of fine red wine (for me) and beer (for B). 

I’m writing this on the couch in front of the fireplace while B sits beside me reading the latest issue of National Geographic magazine, a gift subscription I bought him for our anniversary back in February. That was when I was pregnant with Lila, three months before she came into the world and changed our lives for the better forever. 

It still amazes me each day how much having a baby changes the way you live your life but also your perspective on everything – for me it is and continues to be a discovery of what truly matters in life from the small moments like spending a Saturday morning in bed with your family to thinking about the future and where we’ll settle down and buy a house, one day. Perhaps it will be near the beach or in Europe or on Australian shores.

Evening

     

With the fireplace roaring romantically, I can hear the bathwater running and can smell the pure lavender from the bath salts, too. The sun has set and the evening is here slowing us down; everything feels calm, quiet and relaxed. I don’t have a care in the world right now. This is what weekends should always feel like. 


For those inspired to visit the beautiful Mornington Peninsula, I highly recommend staying at the Cute Beach House in Rosebud. Aside from the great location, it's really affordable and perfect for families. 

Books for my baby girl

IT STILL amazes me how quickly our little baby girl is growing. It seems she changes in some small special way every few days and getting to know her that little bit more becomes more enjoyable each day. 


Lila is a gorgeous baby, so placid and calm most of the time, not including when she's hungry or grumpy in the evening when it's time to don the ear muffs or just settle for repetitive rhythmic ringing in the ears, a mild headache or both. But those moments are quickly forgotten.


Yesterday, with her daddy working from home to take care of his girls (helping me get over a cold and hangover from three months of broken sleep), the three of us braved the cool crisp winter wind, rugged-up in warm clothes and went for a walk to our local library. 


I can't remember the last time I visited a local library, but it really was a hidden treasure. Warm and cosy inside, the friendly librarian took the time to walk over to the bookshelf with us and made recommendations about which books would be best for baby Lila, who turns three months next week, including books with: 

• bright colours and large shapes
• lots of big pictures
• thick cardboard pages
• lots of rhyme and repetition, and
• different textures for her to touch.

We left with 12 picture books of different sizes, three music CDs and three DVDs, including a great French film, The beat my heart skipped, that Lila's dad and I watched last night as she slept soundly, giving us a rare evening without the need for ear muffs.