Little Mister’s First Camping Trip: During and After.

To see how we prepared, the ‘before’ post is available here x

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Seriously, during the Little Mister’s first ever camping experience, the Little Mister had SO MUCH FUN. Surprisingly, so did my husband and I! It was an exhausting experience, but a satisfying one. It was exactly the change of scenery that we needed as a little family. I was feeling like I’d been stuck in a rut for too long (even my blogging inspiration had up and left me) and I felt like the Little Mister was getting restless. It was time to shake things up!

Here’s a little run down of our trip and what we got up to :)

Day 1: We arrived!! It was stinking hot and sunny at our campsite, so my husband, dad and brother set up the tent as quickly as possible, while I chased after the Little Mister. I began to wonder what we’d gotten ourselves into, my dreams of the three of us taking lovely day time naps together dashed – too hot!! We walked down to the local takeaway shop on the waterfront (somewhat of an institution) and bought the BEST fish and chips EVER. I had thought I was too sweaty and icky to want food, but it was awesome. The Little Mister squawked like a freakin’ seagull each time we reached for a chip, but we tricked him with morsels of tasty fish instead – sucked in!

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The Little Mister struggled a bit that night, because he’d never slept in a tent before and we’d thrown him off with a new environment. Looking back, it also became clear that he was cutting a tooth (his mouth is positively exploding with them at the moment)! It took an hour or so (and a little drive in the car) to settle the poor little guy, but once he was asleep, he slept ALL NIGHT! Even the kookaburras (and possibly all the species of the noisiest birds in the world), the cars driving by and the people talking and moving about didn’t disturb him! It probably worked in our favour that we were sleeping a couple of feet away – made him feel secure.

Day 2: My dad thinks he’s really cool now, because he’s gotten in on the paddleboarding trend (yeah yeah you went to Hawaii without me blah blah). I will admit, it is really fun. We all had a go at it (even the Little Mister had a little ride) and it is pretty addictive. I stopped because I was scared I was going to run over a couple of kids on boogie boards, playing in the shallows, but I really did want to have another crack at it! Also? We ordered fish and chips for dinner. Yep. That’s two days in a row, folks. Nutrition? What’s that? Also, it was an excuse to drive down for it so the Little Mister would fall asleep…he did. And he slept all through the night again. I was impressed!

Day 3: Holy cow. The Little Mister was teething up a freakin’ storm. Despite sleeping for a good hour and a half in the car that morning (his record day time sleep for the whole holiday), he was a little wreck. The day went on for so long that I started to become convinced that we had the terrible 2s a bit early. Thank goodness for Bonjela and Nurofen is all I can say! The poor thing even became upset when we took him to the water (usually it’s all smiles and excitement), so we pulled him out and gave lots of cuddles. We stayed positive and hoped for the best!

Day 4: It rained in the morning. Everything was soggy and muddy, with the Little Mister falling over in a few puddles, so we decided that we’d go for some long drives through the forests and it was beautiful.

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Are Karri trees not THE most beautiful trees?!! I couldn’t stop taking photos. You’re lucky I’m only showing you one. Oh, and by the way, the Little Mister returned to his usual, gorgeous self today. I was one relieved mum!

Day 5: Went for a big hike. Little Mister fell asleep for most of it, in the baby carrier my husband wears on his back. He (my husband) feels like it’s good training for a huge 5 day hike he’s planned for later this year, but I don’t think he counted on the Little Mister leaning at funny angles the whole way…the weight distribution was…interesting…

After our 6km walk (which covered almost any kind of terrain you can think of), we felt so good about ourselves that we plonked ourselves in the local cafe and ordered some replacement calories…oops. That’s not how you do it? Oh well. haha.

Day 6:

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Started at 3am. I awoke to hear our chatty campsite neighbours talking (tents are good for eavesdropping from BTW). I was like, “Urgh…shut up…”, but then I heard what they were saying….smell of smoke…fire vehicles…loud hailers and two way radios going off…UH OH!

Suddenly I smelt the smoke and realised my husband had been awake listening too! We eavesdropped some more and realised the fire was RIGHT WHERE WE HIKED THE PREVIOUS DAY (only a little way up the road). Some awful little arsonist had decided it would be fun to wake the whole town, it seemed. The fire was quite close to where we were staying and we were alert, but calm. I checked the website for fire warnings and the situation wasn’t too dire yet, so we tried to get some sleep, while keeping one ear open.

Oh, and the Little Mister slept through all of it…we were on a roll!

We woke with ash on our tent and everything smelt…smoked.

We didn’t want to stray too far today, because we wanted to know the fire was contained before abandoning our camp. We drove up to a look out and watched where the fire was. Thankfully, it wasn’t a big, angry fire like we’ve seen before (my parents had a close call a while back) and the fire emergency people were really amazing, giving it everything they had from the get go. We went for a drive to a famous local surf break and I had to block out my mum’s voice as she kept saying, “This is so much better than Waimea and California…”

Travel brag. Bah humbug!

Day 7: Our last full day at camp. I was starting to feel the ‘last day’ blues. They’re totally real, guys. I was a bit grumpy and tired – to be honest, the fire had killed some enthusiasm with the middle of the night adrenaline rush and the lack of sleep. I was starting to fantasise about my comfy bed at home (after rolling off the air mattress a couple of times) and the simple creature comforts that make life with a toddler a bit easier. I’d had an amazing holiday, but like most camping trips, you end them at the right time, when you start to appreciate what you have at home again. Luckily, my mood was lifted when my parents said, “If you want to go kayaking, we’ll look after the Little Mister…”

My husband and I were out of there LIKE A SHOT. I was all like, “Here’sasnackandhissippycupandasparenappyandsomewipesseeyalater…”

I think we left behind a dust cloud and some tumbleweeds rolling about hahaha. This little break lifted my mood considerably and my husband and I pretended we’ve been kayaking experts all our lives, while trying not to feel self conscious when people on motorboats cruised by, having a little stare. Tick that off our long list of physical activities for the holiday! I was starting to fool myself that I’m a sporty person. Let’s just ignore the fact that we ate double our body weights in soft cheese, dips and crackers…don’t even mention the wine… :)

Day 8: Packing up the campsite was a little more time consuming than we’re used to! It was hard to do things together, so we worked in tandem. My parents were great because they were able to look after the Little Mister while we shoved the tent back into its bag (why are the bags always THIS much too small????) and packed the last of our things.

We got in the car, said goodbye to my parents and before we’d even left town the Little Mister was fast asleep. Bliss. We were so happy to get home after a weird drive (we had witnessed a bizarre accident and people were not driving like they’d earned their licences).

I have to admit, I am missing my holiday a bit now that I’m home with my wifi, air conditioning, solid walls, separate sleeping space to the Little Mister, my laptop, my DVR and my kitchen appliances! There was a lot of good stuff we did – we were more physically active: paddleboarding, hiking, kayaking etc. We were able to devote quality time to each other as a little family much more than you can when you’re running your daily home life, and there was no television to inhibit our interactions. The Little Mister was making massive progress in his development (I’m sure it’s his age too but he just thrived), and life just felt really meaningful. I want to take this experience with me throughout the year and try to hold onto the spirit of it.

What did I learn?

- It really pays to have a supportive partner/helping person. If my husband hadn’t been a really involved, hands on parent too, the trip would have been a nightmare. We tended to work in tandem (sometimes giving each other time to shower or just have five minutes to themselves) and fell into a great rhythm. It was more intense than being at home, because you can’t childproof the outdoors (I’m sure some of us have tried) and it would have been tough without any support. Of course, my parents were brilliant also.

- You have to be willing to break the ‘rules’ and routines. The Little Mister napped at all different times, for not long at all. He scoffed a few more hot chips than I would allow at home and ate a few more pre-packaged meals than usual. He was occasionally bribed with snacks and he was driven around in order to fall asleep on a few occasions (something we’ve never done at home). The Little Mister even had bath time much earlier than usual, because it was just easier to take him after a swim or an activity when the other babies/toddlers at the caravan park weren’t forming a peak hour bath time line! We surrendered ourselves to this, as we were in a different environment and trusted that the Little Mister would know the difference once we were home. I hope I don’t sound like a wanker, but if you hear me out, the point is that it was important to relax. If we’d tried to be as strict as we are at home, none of us would have had any fun! We’d be stressed out to the max, because it would have been almost impossible to recreate home in a tent! We adapted to what was best and if something didn’t work, we were flexible. It paid off. It was actually fun to not be in control of everything. I’m going to relax more at home now. I realise he CAN sleep if I don’t just shoosh everyone after 7pm (note to my husband: I’m not a miracle worker – stop banging the freakin’ kitchen cupboards!). I am NOT going to wreck him if I take him out at nap time occasionally. He proved himself over and over and now we’re home he’s settled back in with almost no fuss (I say ALMOST – perhaps a little understandable anxiety at nap time). I should give us all a little more credit :)

- A change of scenery is not just good for the Little Mister but for my husband and I. We came home happy and giddy and ready to connect more as a couple, not just as co-parents. Those short moments alone in the evening where we held hands and walked to the toilet block (haha how romantic), sharing our reflections on our day – just awesome. We were reminded of how well we can work as a team (usually erecting a tent – not a euphemism you pervs – or paddling in a kayak IN TIME WITH EACH OTHER are our weaknesses LOL). I hope that we can recreate this nice feeling with more us-time and date days/nights as we’ve had very few of these since the Little Mister was born.

- I know I’ve joked before about the ‘children should not ever be exposed to the evils of television before the age of 2 – or ever’ people…but I did see how less television benefited the Little Mister. While he needed some Giggle and Hoot on my mum’s tablet sometimes before bed (quiet time and something familiar), he really did thrive without it. I loved that without any at all, we all chatted more. We’ve never been excessive with the TV around the Little Mister (I do agree that moderation is best), but I am seeing where I could cut back (except for when I need to go to the toilet!!!).

- I am strong. Not mentally (I know that already – some call it stubborn but I disagree – of course). Physically! I mean, I know I’m strong in relation to being a mummy. I lift the Little Mister a million times a day after all! I mean me as an individual! All my life I’ve struggled with a lack of upper body strength, but on this holiday I paddled the sh*t out of everything and I walked kilometres without feeling like dying! This made me feel all empowered and womanly – HEAR ME ROAR! :) I needed that boost.

- I want to do it again.

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You can read about our camping trip from the Little Mister’s perspective here!

Have you camped with a toddler (or toddlers, you brave soul) before? How was your experience? Are you considering it for the first time? Share by leaving a comment x

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Little Mister’s First Camping Trip: Before.

ad869d84bd1e568da22cdf5625f63fd1_largePic: This looks nothing like my experience!

I have been camping in tents and camper vans since I was literally fresh off the plane at five months old (I was adopted in case you’re reading that and wondering what the hell that means)! My parents started these amazing family traditions that have carried all the way into my adulthood and I always knew that when I had a child/children of my own, I would like to continue it with a new generation! In fact, the idea has always made me feel quite sentimental! I’ve had my own tent/s and ‘camping kits’ (full of the basics everyone should have for a quick trip) since I was a tween and I’m usually pretty well prepared!

The idea of taking the Little Mister on his first ever camping trip at the age of 14/15 months, however, scared the crap out of me and I lived up to the title of this blog: Awesomely Unprepared! :)

This wasn’t going to be as easy as throwing a tent, crappy mattress, my camping ‘kit’ (which stays completely assembled in a sealed plastic crate in the shed all year round) and some clothes (thrown hastily into a bag at the last minute) in the back of our spacious car! This was going to be serious! We were moving HOUSE for a week (as you do – even for a day – when you have a toddler or baby)!! We’d need a port-a-cot, sippy cups, baby cutlery, baby bowls, bottles, steriliser (we went for a powered tent site), dummies (pacifiers), extra towels, wipes galore, nappies (a week’s worth), etc etc etc!!!

We had to plan ahead like never before! None of this procrastination sh*t!! We even had ‘family meetings’ with my parents to prepare. We had to decide on when to go – the best time being when school goes back after the summer holidays (quieter) and who would take what. We also had discussions about which caravan/camping parks would be best for having a toddler around and we concluded that the same park we’d stayed in annually for most of my own childhood was best suited to us. It had open spaces for a little one to run around, we had been there for MANY years since I was about one year old myself, so we were familiar with what challenges and facilities there would be. We knew the activities we would be able to undertake at only walking distance from the park, as well as the good places to take a drive, have a nice walk or hang out.

Now that I’ve mentioned that we went with my parents, it’s a good time to give some advice! If possible, take your first camping trip with someone who’s been there before or is a very helpful person/couple. It made our trip possible! I was too daunted to do this with only my husband and I! I needed someone around who had done this before (for moral support and good advice) and who would be able to offer the extra few hands when needed!

Because time would be limited when I would be free to pack properly, with my husband working Monday to Friday (like a “normal” person) these days, I decided to be as prepared as I could and the packing/organising process started very early. Gone are the days of ridiculous procrastination!!! A week out, I planned our afternoons (the period between my husband getting home from work and the start of the Little Mister’s night time routine) so that if we worked flat out, we could relax in the evenings once the Little Mister was in bed. I simply do not have the energy to bother with all that crap late into the night like I used to! I found that this would work best because trying to do everything on my own with the Little Mister (who was teething like CRAY CRAY) just wasn’t going to happen.

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My husband looked at me funny, when he accidentally caught a glimpse of my day planner, but bless his Explorer socks from Woolies, he just let me do my thing!

PS? It worked! It resulted in less stress all round and when we fell into bed (at like 8:30pm because we were knackered) we felt relaxed, instead of annoyed, anxious or (I speak just for myself here) making mental lists of things to do/pack all through the wee hours of the night!

There was practical stuff to think of on our day of departure too. Like making sure that the supplies the Little Mister would need for the drive (approx 3 hours including stops), such as food, wipes, nappies, etc were packed right next to his car seat and easy to grab. We had some roof space (some new racks and a great cargo basket), so we put the things we’d need to set up straight away – tent, tables, etc on top. That way, we’d save time when we arrived – something that’s important when you’re trying to juggle tent poles and toddlers at the same time!

Something that was just as important as the practical stuff, was the mental preparation. We went into this experience with realistic hopes and expectations. Would this be relaxing? Probably not! Would it be hard work? Most certainly. Would it feel like the camping holidays we had before children? HELL NO! Once we let go of the old expectations of a summer camping holiday (memories of sitting for hours in a camp chair reading magazines and novels, long spontaneous walks on the beach with only your romantic partner, packing and unpacking with both hands, eating nibblies in peace etc), we were ready to take on the trip. You think I’m not selling this experience very well? Well, it was amazing. It was just that. An experience! Seeing the Little Mister running about in the dirt, acclimatising to all these new sights and sounds, spending quality time with us (no TVs, limited phone use, no housework, boring daily errands – nothing to take us away from him) was priceless.

With the right headspace and the right mental preparation, we were able to enjoy the holiday so much more.

So, in summary, here is my unsolicited advice on first-time camping with a toddler:

- Plan where and when ahead of time. It takes away the risk of finding a place is too busy, booked out or not the safest/nicest environment for your little dude or lady.

- Go with someone who has had kids (grandparents are ideal) and camping experience or who can provide an extra bunch of hands. They’re great for moral support and for making the experience more pleasurable. Many hands can make light(er) work.

- Start packing early. Don’t procrastinate. The experience leading up will contain less arguments, more mental space and everyone will be on the same page. Work out a packing/checking of gear/shopping for supplies schedule that works around your work hours/life schedule/toddler routines and you’ll be breathing easy by the time the big day of departure arrives (rather than being exhausted and grumpy as hell – not the best way to start a holiday)! I worked from the heavy, big stuff (tent, camp stove etc) and the stuff that didn’t need to be used until the last minute, working towards the things like phone chargers, baby stuff and toiletries which are harder to pack early.

- Plan the packing of your vehicle for convenience. Stuff you’ll need first when you arrive should be easy to find/pull out of your car. Things like a day bag for your toddler’s journey there need to be really handy for quick nappy changes or snack times.

- Get mentally prepared. Be realistic. It won’t be ALL sunshine, laughter and easygoing fun. There will be challenges along the way. You’ll have to be extra vigilant. You will have a dirtier, more tired, extra curious toddler to run around after! If you have a positive mindset, you will realise this is more for them than for you and the joy you will find (despite being exhausted) will be priceless. An amazing memory of a great ‘first’ for your family.

Read the next post about the during and after of our holiday here x

So I didn’t really think that through…

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So on Wednesday, we took the Little Mister to have his 12 month immunisations (having a birthday isn’t always that fun). As usual we rocked up to the local family health clinic where we waited to have his name called out. Of course, just like every other time, the little man was super happy, talkative and cute. I was feeling guilty (and dreading the days ahead) and my husband was…well, he was there. He knows I need my support person :)

On that day, three needles were to be administered.

“Would you like two in the arms and one in the leg, or two in the legs and one in the arm?” the nurse asked.

My husband and I looked at each other, like “WTF? It’s all bad.”

But we muttered something like, “Um…you decide?”

Two in the legs and one in the arm it was. The Little Mister was such a good boy. I distracted him with a rattle and a maraca (why do nurses always have maracas?), and he only cried a little. We gave him a dummy and big cuddles, which he responded to very well as the nurse reiterated what the side effects might be. Mostly that he’d be grumpy as f*ck for a couple of days and that we would be waiting in complete and utter suspense to find out if he would get cold and flu symptoms anywhere from 5-12 days later (it’s been 2 – I’m still waiting and hoping we’ll sail through it). Fun times.

Fast forward to today and the Little Mister was (over)due for a haircut. That kid has won the hair lottery (he probably won’t thank us for it later). He has two parents with very fast growing hair, the volume of his dad’s hair and the straight, softness of mine. This all equals a massive head full of voluminous, but straight hair that goes in many directions. Until today, I had procrastinated about getting his hair cut. I had felt like I had all the time in the world, but it all caught up with us. I knew that the day it started to look a bit like an 80s mullet, something had to be done.

So…what did we do? Here’s my first mistake: Taking the Little Mister to sit in a chair while a lady he doesn’t know stood behind him with a sharp implement. Yeah, I’m thinking big time flashbacks. He started crying and looking so sad. He spent half of his haircut gripping me around the neck in a hug that said, “Don’t let me die!!! I’m tooooo young!!! Not again!!!!”

The hairdresser was a lovely lady and she did a great job. She mentioned that she had three sons, so I guess she knew the drill. She kept her cool and got the job done as calmly and quickly as possible. I kept telling the Little Mister that she was nice and she wouldn’t hurt him, but he was reliving his own little nightmare. That kid was back in the trenches, man. It was tough!

My second mistake?

Trying to distract him with a rattle. Yeah. You can see where that’s going. Same thing I tried when we TRICKED HIM the other day so a strange lady with a sharp implement could jab at him THREE TIMES. His accusatory/terrified face said it all.

Sigh. I feel like I wasn’t quite on top of my parenting game today.

I backed out of the salon saying, “Sorry! He’s normally so great in these situations! I don’t know what happened.”

Of course it dawned on me as soon as we were back in the car. Picture the biggest face-palm EVERRRRR. DUH, KEZ!

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So, learn from my mistake. Do not take your child for their first proper salon haircut two days after immunisations.

You’re welcome.

Happy 1st birthday, my Little Mister!

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I cannot believe it. My Little Mister is exactly 1 year old at the stroke of 9:28pm tonight. That was the moment he was dramatically pulled from my poor insides in a very hasty emergency C-Section on a Sunday night. He is now considered to be a toddler (despite not walking quite yet). I HAVEN’T EVEN READ ANY BOOKS ABOUT THIS TODDLER THING. I only just got my head around the whole “what’s with that whole having a baby thing?” question. Damn! Is there such a book as “What to Expect when You’re Expecting…a Toddler”? If so, I’m finding it!!

Anyway, enough of my disbelief and denial. It’s really happening. It is really my little baby’s first anniversary of being outside my womb (I hate the word “womb” for reasons I don’t even understand).

Just last weekend, he took a couple of steps unassisted towards me. Today he tried really hard again and has been wanting to practice – bless him! Soon he’ll be WALKING (or so I’m told haha)! Of course, my husband rushed over when I started yelling out that it was happening, but the poor bloke missed the moment by probably less than a second!

We’ve had the special first birthday party, where the Little Mister was treated like a king by our families (he just about lost his sh*t when we sang Happy Birthday to him) and I can’t believe that one big moment I looked forward to for so long was over in just a few hours (you know – to accommodate for his naps of course)! That evening I sat on the couch with my husband, just shaking my head at how fast that time has gone. It feels so surreal!

I even made the Little Mister’s cupcakes, which made me feel very good about myself and I may have taken a few too many photos of them because I wanted to document the fact that I actually baked for my son’s birthday!! Go me!!

So, I’d like you to meet my Little Mister, aged 1 year old today(!)…

Born: 6th November, 2011 at 9:28pm
Astrological Sign: Scorpio

Likes:

Bananas. Things with wheels on them. Stolen hot chips [he's only allowed a couple which just KILLS him]. Floor biscuits [don't ask]. Sleeping [that's my boy]. Giraffe blankie. Dummy – his or otherwise. New sippy cup with a straw [Mummy finally picked out a good one]. Daddy’s special healthy sausage rolls. In the Night Garden [Heaven help us]. Bright colours. Dogs. Music – almost any kind. Bath time. Cuddles. Long walks on the beach.

Dislikes:

Watching other people eating. Staying still [we've got a wiggler]. Being told he can’t have [insert 'stolen' item here]. Mulberries. Falling over [don't we all]. People walking away without permission. Teething. Losing a dummy out of the side of the cot. Trying to sleep without Giraffe blankie. Not being paid attention to [I see a future in the dramatic arts]. Doing anything on cue [waving, clapping etc].

Activities:

Making a ruckus at swimming lessons. Trying to master a great escape at Rhyme Time in the library. Sucking up to the lovely lady who runs Rhyme Time (and making sure every other bub and mummy knows he’s the teacher’s pet – how embarrassment). Squawking. Smiling. Giggling. Games of peek-a-boo. Busting through closed doors using nothing but body weight. Bouncing until Mummy’s arms almost fall off. Stealing food. Trying to touch the TV. Trying to climb into the TV. “Walking” while Mummy or Daddy hold his hands. Raiding the Tupperware cupboard in the kitchen. Trying to stick his head into the freezer/fridge. Posing for photos. Playing expertly with toys when he thinks no-one’s looking [when being watched he dumbs it down for our benefit]. Talking [not sure which language yet]. Going for a ride in the laundry basket. Keeping Mummy company in the toilet using aforementioned door busting skills [yep]. Crawling into small spaces.

Traits (mostly the positive ones – I’m biased):

Has a wicked sense of humour – finds almost anything funny. Loves to socialise. Very curious – has to know how something works. Give him a toy with wheels and he’ll turn it upside down to investigate. Play with a string puppet in front of him and he’ll look at your hands and how you’re controlling it, rather than at the puppet. Will choose human interaction over toys any time of the day [can result in clinginess sometimes]. Doesn’t hold a grudge [at this point]. Lets you know if you’ve got something wrong, but is so very obliging and thankful when you get it right. Affectionate.
Is almost always happy. A little bit clumsy [he got it from his mama]. Loves to entertain. Can be restless and want to just get up and play, but is also placid when you really need him to be. Has a really easygoing side to him, but also a nervous, anxious side which makes him cautious. Has all of his own hair. Knows how to drive a musical dolphin.

What a catch!

Milestones:

He’s not quite walking yet, but he’s cruising along furniture and taking tentative steps (when he doesn’t over think it and land back on his bottom where he feels safer). He’s eating almost anything that can go soft in his mouth but is not ready for raw vegetables (think carrots etc) or a steak haha. He is both tall and heavy for his age (I’m OK with that). He is wearing (Australian) size 1 clothes and (Australian) size 6 shoes. He can deliberately say “Dad” or “Daddy”, “Mum” or “Mama”.

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To be honest, I wasn’t exactly sure how I wanted to structure this blog post, so I thought that just recording where my little man is at right now seemed appropriate. All I know is that being his mum is so much fun and I have learnt so much about life and about myself since knowing him.

It’s quite a bittersweet day for me, because I know I won’t ever get this special past year with him back, but I am so excited for what is to come. A whole new world where he starts walking, talking and becoming all grown up!

Happy birthday, Little Mister! I love you so so much that my heart often feels like it’s going to burst. Here’s to shopping in a whole new section at department stores, confusion over how to wean you from the bottle, the extra childproofing once you’re walking and the lead up to the Terrible Twos!!

xoxo

1 year of parenting. What I didn’t expect.

In another week, I will have been a parent for a whole entire year. It’s nuts. I have no idea what’s happened. Seriously, what just happened??

In some ways it feels like it’s been a decade, and in other ways it feels like it’s been, oh…about 30 seconds. Blink and you miss it. That kind of feeling. I just don’t understand how it’s actually possible to fit that much craziness into only a year! 12 months of everything from taking a brand new baby home from hospital, to watching him grow and develop into an almost toddler and worrying about every little thing in between!

So in the spirit of my blog’s name (Awesomely Unprepared), I will celebrate my year of parenting by sharing with you the things that I was Awesomely Unprepared for over the past year :)

OK, so I’ll get the mushy one out of the way. I was not prepared for the ridiculous love that I would feel for my own offspring. I mean, you hear about it, read about it and have an understanding or imagining of what it might be like, but until it happens, you can never really know it. At least it was like that for me. I would do anything to protect my Little Mister. I have become like a fierce mama *insert powerful beast/dinosaur/thing you saw in a movie of your choosing here* and I am constantly surprised by the things that make me feel brave and courageous when it comes to doing right by my Little Mister. Of course, with this ridiculous baby love comes the hot mess that is me every time I see a news story about babies. Also any movie about babies. Any documentary about babies. Any picture of a baby. Basically anything that seems like it could be to do with babies. It can be happy stuff or it can be sad stuff. It can be ANYTHING and suddenly I have tears in my eyes and I’m doing that snotty blubbery thing. I now know what people mean when they say that their love for their child gets them through something. When something happens to a child that is a parent’s worst nightmare, I actually truly understand how horrific that really is. Don’t even get me started on the starving children of the world or I might not be able to finish this blog post.

I’ll be honest. Before I was pregnant and even during, I scoffed at the idea that mums can get all clucky when their first child grows out of infanthood. I thought, really?! Why would you want to go back to that whole crazy stage of life? Why are you looking back wistfully?? Do you really remember how crazy that time of life was?! Don’t you want your child to grow up and be a great, healthy, independent being?? But now that the Little Mister is almost one year old, I kind of understand it. I guess that’s how second, third, and nineteenth kids are conceived. Don’t worry, everyone. I’m not that clucky yet – I have a lot of stuff to forget before I can go there again! I just now realise that as my little baby gets bigger, smarter and is even almost walking, he’s going to soon just look like any other grotty kid on the playground instead of my beautiful, sweet smelling fluffy haired cuddle bug – although, he’ll be my beautiful grotty kid. So, I admit it. I get it now. Geez! In saying that, I am so excited for what the future brings (even if it sometimes scares the living daylights out of me)!

I’m not as cool as I thought I would be. There. I said it. I always pictured myself as being a really responsible, good parent (able to do both discipline and fun) who just also happened to be super awesomely cool too. Like, I thought I would wear really awesome clothes and not really change a thing once the Little Mister popped out. While I do play him great music and I haven’t turned into a Stepford wife/mum (well there was little chance of that haha), I do dress differently. I do drive a station wagon style vehicle (you’ll find that calling it a sports wagon and putting cool stickers on it doesn’t really disguise it at all but keep telling yourself that – I’m just a whisker away from having those awful stick figure families stuck to the back window). I don’t wear short skirts, bikinis, or show off my cleavage (what’s left of it). The sad truth is that not only has my body changed, but so has my attitude. I’ve become all, “Is that practical?”

Booooring.

Also? Babies cost a lot of money. Not like off the black market, silly. Just to keep one alive and stuff. I mean, I knew that having a baby would be a bit expensive. I was the one lecturing my husband on the realities of what we were in for. Turns out I was slightly ignorant. I mean, just like that whole “love for your child” thing I described earlier, there’s a difference between knowing what to expect and actually living it! Therefore, my cool factor is suffering because I can’t buy many new clothes (had to have a ridiculous purging of my ‘stuff that no longer fits’) and I can’t buy ALL OF THE iTUNES. Yeah, my definition of ‘cool’ isn’t even that cool anymore – what, fool? You think being cool is just music and clothes? How pedestrian. Hipsters be hatin’.

If you are just you, or just you and a plus one at this point…imagine how outraged you are when you buy two puny bags of groceries at the supermarket and it’s like $50 and you’re like WTF? That’s ridonkulous!! Add a box of disposable nappies ($30) and a tin of formula ($20) almost every time. Then when you’re pregnant and you’re all, “I’m gonna save money and the environment by using cloth nappies and breastfeeding only”…but it doesn’t quite go to plan and your trendy, expensive (at least for initial outlay) cloth nappies sit unused because you were too scared to use them, plus the breastfeeding thing didn’t quite work out…I mean, not that I’m talking about me here…OK I am. Yeah, you get where I’m going with that.

My husband and I now have a strict budget for each pay fortnight, which we routinely break, but we do it with an educated mind at least? The damage we inflict on our cards is much less (I feel) than it would have been before we started planning better. Yep. I never thought I would actually have to account for every single last cent. Literally. I mean, I was always frugal and very sensible before, but now I have a new meaning for ‘sensible’ and it doesn’t always include a copy of TV Week or a sneaky item of clothing here and there!

I still swear a lot. Seriously. I thought about implementing a swear jar in our house, but then realised I would just swear more because the Little Mister would be receiving the money. You know, for a good cause and all that. So, I’m still working on it. I had no idea how much I don’t give a ship about some things, and how other things can get firetrucked. I really need to be better. Parent fail.

A few years ago, if you were to tell me that you had this great job opportunity for me: It involves very little sleep for a few months, you’re on call 24 hours a day, you will have to pay your own way (ie it’s volunteer work), and it’s messy. Basically, you’ll be wiping someone’s poo and vomit up – for no pay. Daily. Relentlessly. No sick leave. No entitlements. No annual leave. Your employer can’t speak your language, will yell a lot to get what they want and won’t even smile at you for the first six weeks. Also, it will be the most happy time of your life.

I would have thought you were batsh*t crazy.

But it happened. I love it. Sure, occasionally I love it a little less than usual…but I wouldn’t trade this job for the world. I really really hoped I would feel this way when I eventually had a child, but to see that it has become my reality thrills me.

It’s been one year and I am (just to toot my own horn) really amazed at what I’m capable of as a parent and as a person. Having the Little Mister has shown me what I’m made of and I have realised I don’t mind what I’m made of at all. I mean, none of us are perfect, but I feel so happy to know I really am strong and able to love so much. I can’t wait for the many years ahead as we learn and grow together.

Here’s to a year of parenting :)

To see what else I’ve written to celebrate a year of the Little Mister, click here :)

Like Awesomely Unprepared on Facebook xx

The Little Mister’s first proper sleep over.

Pic: Yes, it was!

Last weekend something big happened. Well, it was big for me. That’s what she said. Oh. Ew. Let me start again…

Last weekend was a significant event in the Little Mister’s life. Actually, it probably wasn’t really a massive deal to him, but it was to me! Last weekend was the Little Mister’s very first proper sleep over at the grandparents’ place. We didn’t pick him up at midnight, we didn’t come back to stay the rest of the night in the next room just in case. We went to our house and slept in our own bed and picked him up in the morning.

AND EVERYONE SURVIVED!!! :)

Well, by the next day (or two) all four adults were no doubt still feeling a bit worn out, and the Little Mister seemed really cuddly and wanting more sleep, but we all did it. My husband and I had the balls (figuratively speaking on my behalf anyhow) to leave him behind without stressing over him, my parents were willing to take on the challenge that is an 11 month old who requires childproofing to a ridiculous standard (think: ASIO), and the Little Mister SLEPT THROUGH THE NIGHT!

I am very proud of all of us!

The last real spate of night time babysitting before that had been when the Little Mister was only about six months old. Old enough to be a bit too aware of his surroundings and definitely at the age where separation anxiety had kicked in big time. It was nerve-wracking to say the least (although I must give credit where it’s due – the Little Mister did make us pretty proud in the end when it mattered)! I was a bridesmaid in a wedding, so my bridal party commitments vs Little Mister…well, you can imagine the struggle! It was hard wanting to be everything to everyone but not quite succeeding. A definite life lesson in that!

When we received the invitation to another wedding a few months ago, we realised that by the time the big day arrived the Little Mister would be almost a year old and definitely easier to leave overnight! Hallelujah, we cried. WE CAN TOTALLY DO THIS and more importantly, we could ENJOY it! We checked that my parents wouldn’t be busy travelling around or enjoying their active social lives (damn baby boomers are very unreliable babysitters haha). We psyched ourselves up. We negotiated the terms of this babysitting arrangement and we MADE IT HAPPEN. As the date drew closer, great things began to fall into place. The Little Mister began to sleep through without any anxiety (not saying it won’t bite us again but things have been good lately – don’t wanna jinx it) and he began to remember faces and places a lot better, meaning that he recognises my parents whenever he sees them (they get the biggest smiles and wiggly cuddles) and knows his way around their house (like how to climb stairs – eek! – and where the good toys are). We were golden! These things helped a lot and while it could have all been a fluke, I’ve decided (against your will – unsolicited advice – woot!) to share the factors that may have helped all to have a successful night!

Routine

While we’re always open to things not quite going to plan (I think that’s a pre-requisite for having a child), we do have a pretty reliable daily/nightly routine that works for the Little Mister. It evolves over the months as he grows and changes, but we manage to keep things on an even keel most of the time. Because he usually knows how we will react when he cries at night, when he is supposed to have his bath, his sleep and his food, he seems to feel secure and happy. By asking my parents to adhere to his usual routines as best they could, it seemed to help him feel safe and secure despite being in a different place, looked after by different people. They helped him keep his routine, so he probably concluded that it was all good and his needs would be taken care of. I used to feel guilty leaving a big list for my parents (or inlaws) detailing his routine. I thought it might seem insulting – I mean, these people raised my husband and I and we’re still alive! It’s not like they’re new to the parenting game! However, I’ve come to see that the list was comforting to my parents (they kept asking me to write it all down before we left) also. They don’t want to do anything to disrupt him either and they wanted him to be happy and at peace with the arrangement :)

The sticking-to-routine thing also helps the Little Mister settle back in with us after a night away. While we don’t mind things being a bit out of whack for a night or so after a routine change, it is nice when he comes home and there’s no real adjusting to do! We can all just recover from our big night together and get on with normal life again!

Something from home

OK, so I will admit it. We packed up what felt like half of our entire home to take to my parents’ house. My parents do have a lot of things they have purchased and set up in their house for the Little Mister to use, but we have a port-a-cot and other such things and it just seems easier to bring it over than for my parents to buy everything he could possibly need when he only stays with his grandparents on either side for extended periods of time occasionally. However, we were able to do things like use the fitted sheet he’d been sleeping on in his cot at home in the port-a-cot so it smelt and felt familiar. We brought along his same sleeping bags that he’s used to and his cherished giraffe comfort blankie to sleep with (we may have created a monster – he won’t sleep without “Giraffey”). I also packed a couple of his favourite little soft toys from home in case he should get a bit anxious – it’s all to do with the smell and the feel at this stage!

While we did pack a LOT of “just in case” things, which made our carload much heavier, it brought me comfort knowing that the Little Mister was prepared for any situation. I know it brought my mum comfort in particular, because like me (where do you think I get it from?), she likes to be prepared for anything and everything. I didn’t want them to get caught out in a crazy teething situation (for example) and have no baby panadol or teething toys on hand. It would make the day/night much less pleasant for everyone! Selfishly, I also wanted there to be no excuse to get a phone call in the middle of the night to come and get him!

Stress-less strategy

While I am able to switch off my mummy guilt for leaving the Little Mister so I can go have a good time (I’m sure he didn’t miss us that much haha), I do worry about whether he’s being good for my parents. I like to have peace of mind that they are having an enjoyable time too. Otherwise I get daughter guilt! I know that if all is well, the Little Mister should definitely be peacefully asleep by 7:30pm (his usual bedtime is 7pm), so I asked my mum to text me to let me know that all was well. This allowed me to feel reassured that I would find out how he was sleeping, meaning that from 7:30pm I could either slip away for a minute to talk out the situation with my mum on the phone, or I could get the good news and relax for the rest of the night! Having this strategy meant that I didn’t spend the whole night WONDERING. We all know where WONDERING all night gets you!

It was great when I got the good news text at 7:30pm to let me know that he had whimpered a bit (testing my mum out a little haha) before settling well. Yay!

The rest of the night I felt so much more relaxed!

I also like to stress to whoever’s baby sitting that I actually do want any bad news. If I think that someone is going to try to hide the fact that there have been some troubles from me because they’re too scared of ruining my night, I actually feel worse. Just give me the good, the bad and the ugly! Gives me a chance to suggest any little things that might help a situation – a strange quirk the Little Mister might have that only his mummy or daddy might know about. Could make the whole night a lot more enjoyable for the grandparents too! Also, lets me know if I want to cut my night short, which I would rather do if the Little Mister was very sick or distressed than go the whole night oblivious and feel like the worst mother ever later on.

Out of sight, out of mind!

It’s not entirely possible. We’re not frickin’ robots, you know. But I tried really hard to focus on enjoying my night out. I had to put the Little Mister at the back of my mind (in the most loving way possible of course)! I was at the wedding to celebrate with some very good friends, and it was somewhat of a date night for my husband and I. A much needed one! I had to make sure that I didn’t watch the clock constantly and be all like, “Oh that’s his afternoon tea time, oh that’s his bottle time, oh I wonder what he’s doing right now, oh it’s cold outside, what’s he wearing? I wonder if he’s eating all of his dinner?”

At some point you just have to trust the babysitter/s and let it go! I tried to limit my “thinking about the bubba” to just the 7:30pm text I was expecting from my mum and I succeeded! It felt good to just release it all for a night. That’s where the stress-less strategy kicks in, because that strategy can make all the difference in your ability to relax and remember all of the good things about being kid free (temporarily)! Live that dream (temporarily)! Haha.

Also, it’s good to get out once in a while. Absence really did make the heart grow fonder. The next morning I was so excited to go and see the Little Mister at my parents’ house! I wanted a cuddle! In fact, my husband and I got the greatest cuddles all of the next day :) It felt nice to be missed as well! We have to make the most of that feeling – I’m sure the Little Mister will reach an age all too soon, where he’s thinking, “Damn – Mum and Dad made me come home! I want to stay out!”

I know that none of my unsolicited advice is particularly revolutionary, but it’s just solid stuff that seemed to make a difference in the experience for my family :)

I’ll get back to you in another who-knows-when/x amount of months when none of this works anymore ;)

Got any other tips or stories to share? x

Baby shopping. Baby product shopping. Not shopping for actual babies…

Pic: These signs lead to stores full of baby things

Following some recent conversations with friends (both pregnant and yet-to-be), I had memories flood back to me about those first months of (first time) pregnancy where everything was so overwhelming! I remember thinking, wow there’s going to be a real life human baby in my house at some point – what crazy nonsense is this?! I’m going to have to buy it stuff and I don’t even know what all that “stuff” is!!! Oh, God help me!

OMG! ZOMG! OMFG! (yeah that’s right – I can abbreviate with the best of the cool kids)

I remember going “shopping” for the baby (now known as the Little Mister of course) where all I’d do is stare at everything and realise that having so many “options” meant every decision was 15 times harder. I would go home empty handed with loads of information swimming around in my head after I’d drilled the shop staff for all sorts of facts about prams, cots and car seats! I’d then put it all off for another few weeks while I tried to pretend it wasn’t happening (luckily I started my “shopping” expeditions fairly early in the piece – start of second trimester I believe).

If I could say one thing to those who are in that same boat right now, it would be: Don’t panic. It will actually all come together. You’re a smart woman/man and you want what’s best for your baby. It does all start to click eventually :)

It’s so funny how we can conquer so many new skills in life – just see a challenge and go for it. We complete university degrees, buy houses, plan massive holidays in strange places, drive out to old Aunty Whatsit’s place in the middle of nowhere without a decent road map, plan wedding extravaganzas and start small businesses…yet we freak out at the idea of buying a few things for a new baby!

I spent a lot of time asking friends with babies (and my mum) what they found useful in the early days. I asked them what they found irritating and whether I could avoid those irritations/inconveniences myself. I got over my fear of looking stupid in front of baby product shop staff and just asked them whatever I wanted to know. I visited places several times until I could go there without having a mental breakdown and everything started to seem more familiar and not so scary!

While I had a bit of a budget to stick to, I didn’t obsess over getting the very very very best price on everything. If I could save $10 by going to some shop a bajillion miles from home, it wasn’t worth it while I was heavily pregnant and very confused (not to mention you’d spend the $10 “savings” on fuel to get there anyhow). If I found what I liked and it was good value for money, I just went home with it or made a plan to come back for it as soon my funds would let me. Gotta weigh up the stress factor vs everything else. I’d feel great every time I could tick something off the list.

My strategy was also to make sure I had all the “will need it in the hospital or the day we leave hospital” stuff. The stuff you can’t make it without in that first week or so. After that, things can come together at a moment’s notice if need be and the people in your life can be really helpful running about for you (some will even bug you until you let them do something so you may as well let them feel useful) if you have a lovely support network to call on. It helped me focus and not think of forgetting a few little things as the end of the world.

How did I pick the big stuff (you know – the really intimidating stuff)? Mind if I share? (that was rhetorical haha)

Cot
All I wanted was for the cot to be attractive enough to match the Little Mister’s nursery colour scheme (which was simply clean with white and blue). It had to be something that would be good enough quality to last for the use of more than one child. I wanted it to have a bassinet level option (for when the baby is little and not as mobile), for the mattress to be able to drop down later when you need to trap a crawling, toddling maniac child who may be learning to climb, and for it to later convert to a toddler bed. It goes without saying that it had to meet national safety standards. As long as a cot was a reasonable price and had all these features, I was stoked. I’m still very happy with my decision. Seriously, just keep it simple.

Pram/stroller
This one baffled me from day one. I won’t lie. There are so many choices, so many features and so many opinions on the matter you feel like your head will spin off! Not to mention there are so many very very expensive products to stare at in utter disbelief. There are some babies out there just pimpin’ in their tricked out rides. Or whatever the kids are saying these days. Pretty sure I just said something really inappropriate there…moving right along…

My requirements? It had to have a comfy bassinet option for when my Little Mister was very small and spent most of his time sleeping. It had to be good at manouvering in tight spaces. It had to be light enough to lift in and out of the car several times a day. It had to be easy to assemble or fold down because no-one wants to be that person in the carpark taking half an hour just to get their baby out of the car and into the stroller, or out of the stroller and into the car! It had to be good quality so it would last for the use of more than one child, hopefully with the option of being able to even transport two children (a toddler and baby) at once if need be in the future.

Look, I’ll be honest. I also didn’t want it to be butt ugly. You have to wheel that thing about in public all the time, y’all.

Car seat
I wasn’t really too fussed. I didn’t need the top of the range, “only celebrities use it” kind of thing. I didn’t want the cheapest thing either. I wanted a nice, middle of the range product that looked comfortable and of course, safe. As we weren’t going to start with a capsule in our car (they are great for transporting sleeping babies to and from the car but they aren’t great for longevity’s sake – we figured we could hire one if the baby turned up and we wished we had one), we wanted a car seat that could range from birth to a few years old. We got one that went from newborn to 18kg (or roughly an average sized four year old). I figured that if there was a second child entering the equation at some point then we could purchase a car seat that takes a child to 7 years old (the legal age a child has to be in a seat until) and the younger bub could have the smaller one. I have been really happy with the seat we’ve chosen. It’s grown with the Little Mister (or he’s grown with it I should say) very nicely.

Basically, everyone I talked to in the baby product shops was really helpful. There was one lady with a really pretentious name that I cannot remember right now, who bugged the hell out of me at one of my favourite stores, but on the whole these staff members are really used to talking to parents-to-be who have NO IDEA WHAT THEY’RE DOING or WHAT THEY’RE IN FOR! That’s what their business is about, so if they treat you like an idiot…quite plainly, they deserve to lose your business and anyone else’s. You’ve never done this before and should be treated as such (without someone being a condescending a-hole of course). Also, you’re pregnant (or your partner is) and they should know better than to mess with you (or them) haha.

Also, don’t freak out if something doesn’t go too smoothly. I had to wait until I was 8 months pregnant (and very very hugely so) to get my pram delivered to a shop far far away because they’d run out of stock or some crap (my savings did actually make it worth it luckily), and my cot arrived with some damage that I felt could compromise its safety meaning I had to return it and get it replaced. If you let these things wash over you and deal with them calmly (while being sure to assert yourself and get what you deserve), I promise it can actually be fun! :)

Have any other advice to share? If you’re a parent, how did your first shopping ventures go?

I thought about including what my product choices were, but I decided it’s not so important to get a certain brand or model. It’s about making sure the product meets your specific budget and has the features you think are important. Also, I didn’t want to seem like I was paid to do this post (I wish haha). If you really do wish to know, please don’t be afraid to email me. Also, while I’m explaining myself, I’d also like to say that I am only describing my personal experience whenever I do one of these “advice” type posts. I am not saying that what was helpful for me will be helpful for everyone – I’m big on the whole “each to their own” adage and will never claim to be an expert on any topic! Just another first time mum figuring stuff out :)

My truth about the first few weeks of parenthood.

Pic

So the other night I was watching one of my all-time favourite television shows (Offspring – OMG I love it), when a character came into the hospital not long after giving birth and had a small breakdown because she thought she was failing as a mother. One reason was because her birth did not go to plan (she didn’t want any drugs but succumbed as it got very difficult and painful) and the second was because some people had told her that those first few weeks of motherhood are the “babymoon” and are supposed to be so perfect and blissful, but she didn’t feel her experience was matching up. Even though that was just a small part of the episode, it stuck with me. How many times do “all the people” tell you something is supposed to feel/be a certain way, only it isn’t and you start to think you’re the only one, questioning yourself? Asking if you’ve done something different or wrong?

As my Little Mister starts to close in on 7 months of age, I find myself thinking back to his early days (say the first 6 weeks). I remember him sleeping for 18 hours a day, just feeding and needing cuddles. Even now I look back at that time with rose-coloured glasses. I think, “Wow – all that time he was asleep! I could have gotten so much housework done! I had so much free time to watch TV, shower myself, have a nap, blog, go to the toilet. Why didn’t I appreciate that fully? Blah blah blah.”

Then I wake myself up with a firm (metaphorical) slap to the face (with a big, metaphorical cold fish). Wait a second, I tell myself, it wasn’t that easy at the time! I think back and remember not ever believing that those beautiful moments of sleep would last, rushing through my showers, my meals and anything else I had to do. I remember trying to heal from my C-section, having to move gingerly and be careful what I lifted or how I positioned myself when I sat down. My husband had to help with everything and I found that disempowering. It wasn’t his fault by any means – he was doing a great job. I just felt at odds with the role I was supposed to be relishing as a new full time mummy. I had to learn how to do heaps of things from my husband, when I’d always pictured myself figuring it out first. I remember finding everything so new and daunting. Everything from figuring out how much formula to feed the Little Mister (we had to measure top ups on top of breast milk as my supply was bad – we’d been separated in the first few days and I was stressed and on anti-biotics). Wondering if we were letting him sleep too long at a time or not (he is naturally a great sleeper but all of the damn books and some people acted like he was going to die or waste away if we didn’t wake him up every three hours in the night to feed). Trying to negotiate trips out of the house with him. How did I know if I’d packed too much or not enough? I learnt the hard way a couple of times. Could I make sure that everything revolved around feed times/nap times? Worrying about his sensitive, immature stomach when he was mildly colicky at bedtime. Creeping into bed at night, worried about waking him. Listening out ALL night to hear him breathing. Not knowing whether it was right to do this, or right to do that. Feeling lost when he would cry because it takes a little while to figure out a new language – baby language. It was a while before I figured out what a hungry cry, anxious cry, pained cry were like (sometimes they can be remarkably similar). When his sleep started to decrease a bit, I took a while to figure out how long babies are usually happy to be awake for before they’ll show tired signs and need a nap. Once I mastered that (and a host of other baby quirks), I started to settle into my role as mummy.

Yes, the first few weeks are AMAZING. You want to watch your beautiful baby sleep all the time. You realise in the middle of the night that you still love them (even though you once wondered if it was possible to love ANYONE at 4am – sober). You feel all the love of your family and friends as they gather round, sending gifts, sharing cuddles and giving compliments. If your partner has parental leave or has taken leave for those first few weeks, it can be a godsend as you rest and you’re not expected to get anything done but heal your own body and nurture your baby.

Sleep deprivation can be a nightmare. I’m not gonna lie. And for some babies (who perhaps start off as awesome sleepers), it actually gets worse when they’re older as teething, separation anxiety and the power of movement arrive. Told you I’m not going to lie. However, if you call on your support networks: people who can babysit a couple of hours in the day between feeds so you can sleep, your partner, someone who might even help you cook or clean so there’s less to worry about, you’ll start to adjust. Just don’t feel like you should be a super human. It’s taken me the good part of 6 months to realise that I don’t have to be an all entertaining, all new, all fresh human experience for the Little Mister ALL the time. We can have quiet days in and we can get out and about a bit too – he’s going to be fine if some days I’m not feeling well or need to rest. Babies are working hard all day and all night as they develop, so the occasional “boring” day in probably isn’t as boring for them as we think! Gotta stay human/sane and look after mum so she can look after bub. Overworked zombies are not the best caregivers, apparently :)

It’s scary and it’s hard in those early weeks. In the more challenging times I would just pray for the Little Mister to learn how to smile. I would find myself just thinking wistfully, when he can smile perhaps I will feel better about it all. Perhaps the smiles will make each day a little easier. It was difficult when the only way he knew how to communicate was by crying or behaving grumpily. I was just hanging out for that smile. For those new ways to communicate.

They do come. And it is as lovely as they tell you it will be. Although new challenges pop up all the time, you start to know your baby well. You become really in tune with their quirks and their ways of communicating. You learn what time of day doesn’t go well with them. You learn the places/sounds/activities they like and don’t like. You learn the best times to take them out and when it’s time for them to stay in and spend time snuggling or catching up on rest in a comfy, familiar place.You find your own rhythm. Hopefully you get to know other mothers with similarly aged children – my hospital set up a mother’s group and we still meet and we share SO MANY IDEAS/CONCERNS/LEARNINGS/ADVICE on our Facebook page it’s not funny! I thought that stuff wouldn’t suit me (worried I’d be bunched with people I have nothing in common with other than motherhood, or that it could get bitchy or pressured), but it’s been fantastic. I know that if we get out of the house to meet, we all understand the logistics of just leaving the house and negotiating feeds and naps. I also know that we are all learning together and it’s great to know you’re not alone and share resources.

So if an expectant mum asked me what it’s like, I would tell her all of the above. It’s the most special time for sure, but it isn’t all rainbows and unicorns. It’s hard work, sleeplessness and constant confusion/overthinking/worrying (and kind of will be for a long time). However, if you surrender yourself to it all and embrace it, you will know that your HUGE love will conquer all in the end. I always tell myself, I grew up and don’t have to sleep with my arms swaddled. I can go to sleep all by myself at night without a dummy or someone cuddling me. I can walk around properly and talk and feed myself (and boy do I feed myself – oops). My Little Mister will grow up fine if I just relax a bit and do my best. The challenging times aren’t FOREVER :)

Don’t listen to those weirdos who have forgotten the hard parts when they look back on those early days of parenthood. They’ll either tell you it’s all hell on Earth or that it’s all perfect and easy. There is a fantastic happy medium if you let yourself find it.

Hindsight is always 20/20 and I refuse to let myself glorify those times when the present day gets tough. They were real, they were amazing and they were terrifyingly, terrifically overwhelming. I wouldn’t change a thing.

x

Was your reality different? Please share x

Oh no! There’s a damn baby on this flight!

Pic: There was a baby on their last flight. You can tell.

Last week my husband and I became those people. I know I keep referring to the fact that I’m turning into one of them. I think that’s just code for becoming parental units in general. Still, I’m a little in denial. Sure, it’s been 9 months of pregnancy and 16 weeks of baby wrangling but I’m a bit slow, OK? I can’t have gone to the dark side, surely?!

So who are those people that I am referring to specifically in this post? Well, my husband and I became the people we used to groan at. The people we would roll our eyes at. Criticise. Jump to conclusions about. Yes. We became The People With A Baby On An Aeroplane. Which, in our defence seems to be a little better than being The People With a Toddler on an Aeroplane…but that’s probably just another story from the future that is yet to happen.

We were taking the Little Mister over to Tasmania to meet my relatives (yes – make all the incest jokes you like – I’ve heard them all). This involved a 3-4 hour flight to Melbourne, followed by an hour’s flight to Hobart. I woke up at the crack of dawn (who am I kidding – I wasn’t asleep) and packed and repacked as many things as I could…so basically ten times more stuff for the baby than for me. iPod, novel, journal in the hand luggage? Pfft! As if! It was now the Little Mister’s favourite (non noisy) toys, musulin wraps (for wiping up drool and other fun stuff), spare outfits, nappies, bottles, wipes blah blah blah!

We made it to the airport with plenty of time to spare, sharing nervous smiles with anyone else we saw who was clearly about to fly for the first time with their babies too.

Let me tell you, the moment we found our seats (front row of economy) on the plane we saw the “awww nooooo – it’s a damn baby” faces people were making. Which I thought was pretty rude of the guy who was sitting in our row (there was a fold down baby bassinet in front of him – what did he expect)!

I think I spent more time worrying about what other people would think when they saw our baby on the plane than about his actual behaviour (which didn’t turn out to be so bad). I found myself fantasising about getting a hold of the flight attendants’ loudspeaker microphone thingy and making an announcement: “Um, excuse me. I’m the mother of that adorable but unpredictable little baby boy you see there. I would like to let you know in advance that I am sorry for any loud crying or tantrums that may transpire. Also, just so you know, not very long ago I too was like you and so I know more than anything how annoying a baby can be on a plane. I am one of you, so please for the love of god don’t turn on us! Thankyou very much. Enjoy your flight. Don’t hate me. Love you.”

Turns out our baby doesn’t like sitting and waiting. Apparently it’s boring. So he’d cry before the plane started to move (not too much but just enough to make everyone around us wonder what kind of hellish flight they were in for), but settle as soon as he was having a feed on the way up (to help his ears adjust to the change of air pressure). He was so good and he’d nap in my arms after a suck of his dummy and some (space limited) swaying. While he napped I managed to catch quite a few episodes of that show Up All Night – it stars Christina Applegate and Will Arnet as new parents adjusting to having a baby in their lives…let’s just say it struck a chord. My husband would glance over at my screen occasionally and question why the hell I would take a break from dealing with a baby, by watching a show about dealing with a baby. Good question! :P
He shouldn’t have made fun though. He had to keep stopping and starting Moneyball (he’s a sucker for a sports related movie) to help with the Little Mister and five minutes before the movie ended he was told to shut it down because we were landing – sucked in! Just kidding, that would have been pretty annoying!

Anyhow, I was feeling pretty good after surviving the first leg of our journey to Melbourne – even if I’d had to rush the Little Mister to the toilets to change him after what can only be described as a nappy explosion! It was so crazy. He peed on himself as well, which was a little inconvenient while I wiped his bottom! So no-one told me that I was walking around Melbourne airport with poo splatters on my top…I realised just before we had to check in for our Hobart flight and admonished my husband for not noticing and alerting me, zipped out of the queue (which was taking forever anyway), located the key to my suitcase which was hidden in my hand luggage, dived in and found a replacement top just in the nick of time. Wow. I have now done it. I’ve walked around oblivious to poo being on myself. In public. ONE OF THEM. I’ve been initiated.

Side note: While watching Sex and the City with my girlfriends the other day, the episode where Miranda gets Brady’s poo on her while changing his nappy came on. My friends (who do not have babies – yet) were all like, “Pfft. As if you wouldn’t know you had a big lump of poo on your head!”
I set them straight – don’t you worry. I then worried that my baby was also watching Sex and the City (despite my best efforts to distract him) and that he’d clocked up 4 sexy love scenes in a matter of minutes of viewing. Parent fail!

How embarrassment.

Anyway, the rest of our plane travels played out in a fairly similar fashion (minus a repeat of the aforementioned ninja poo attack – I should have said yes when security asked if I was carrying anything explosive). I now feel this immense level of pride. I took my three and a half month old baby on a plane journey and survived (and was even brave enough to get on the plane for the return journey instead of deciding that I might just live in Tasmania rather than go through that stress again which was what I feared would happen). I am brave. I am awesome. I DID IT (well my husband helped a lot too haha)!

My short but sweet tips (for Aussie domestic flights) would be:

- Use a nappy bag as carry on in and of itself. So easy to take the whole bag to the toilet/change area with you when required, as opposed to juggling it around, zipping and unzipping it, looking for nappies and wipes etc in front of everyone. You can just get to the privacy of the change room and take your time figuring it out. Have a spare outfit for bub and one for yourself in there!

- Have pre-packed formula and sterilised bottles with boiled water in them handy for onboard feeds. If your baby is happy with room temperature feeds (instead of warmed ones) then it’s so easy to prepare. We found that despite popular rumours, the attendants can’t really warm your pre-mixed, refrigerated bottles for you very well on the plane. We will no longer be dummies and I have purchased fantastic formula containers that store three measured out feeds and have a handy spout thingy for easy transferring to a bottle. All you experienced parents/travellers are probably laughing at me right now :P Don’t worry – lesson learnt!

- Baby Bjorn it up. If you have a carrier you can wear through the airport, your hands are free to pull your suitcases around, your bub feels cosy and comforted in a strange place (against your chest) and if you’ve checked a pram in as cargo then it will serve you well until you can collect it again (we were lucky and borrowed a pusher from relatives while we were there).

- Pack way more sterilised/clean dummies than you think you’ll need on the flight. At one time we went through three in a matter of minutes. The baby can spit it out and it hits the ground easily!

Now I am home and I might need to sleep for a week to make up for our eventful holiday, but it was worth it. My grandparents (great grandparents for the first time) were able to meet my little man and it was so touching to see my grandfather (who suffers from Alzheimers) so excited to see a little baby in the family – even if he didn’t quite remember us :)

What people do you hate sharing a flight with? Any horror stories about babies/toddlers on your flights? Any tips for travelling with babies?

But he’s never gonna remember it!

Pic: My own Christmas tree. Which I decorated. Whoa.

So December 25th will be a special day. It’s all about the baby. And I’m not just talking about baby jeebus (although clearly He is the reason we all celebrate a day where we can eat until we’re in food comas and bitch about the crappy gifts we receive…”You don’t even know me at ALL!” even though none of that has anything to do with the original meaning of Christmas).

This will be the Little Mister’s first Christmas. Which is all very exciting. A new child in the family means new traditions. I’ve purchased the little guy a very generously sized Santa sack from Target and now I realise that each year this sack will have to be filled to the brim with thoughtful gifts until some evil, precocious kid with too many older siblings tells him that Santa is just your mum and dad sneaking around in the middle of the night (which of course is a lie – Santa’s totally real). Which, if anything like my childhood experience will raise questions about the tooth fairy and the easter bunny. That was one tough day.

I am determined to make this Christmas a special one. It will be the Christmas that will set down the traditions and family memories for perhaps the rest of my hubby’s and my lives. NO PRESSURE. I say this with tongue planted firmly in cheek, but the basis of it all rings true. Also, I am a little bit of a nutter…

This year I decorated the Christmas tree at the beginning of December. Not halfway through the month with unenthusiasm. I did this all while recovering from a C-section and tending to a 3 week old baby. Now if that doesn’t impress your socks off, then I don’t know what will. I even saved the special ornaments that were given to us for Little Mister, so that my Husband Man could be there with us when I put them on the tree. I am totally parenting that sh*t up! OK, that last sentence should have my parenting license revoked. Apologies.

The Little Mister will be 7 weeks old on Christmas day, so basically he won’t remember a thing. Which won’t stop me from wrapping his presents in festive paper (even though he can’t even unwrap them). I thought about not doing anything of the sort or just buying a big box of nappies for him (that sh*t’s expensive – literally) and chucking a bow on top, but then the crazy new mummy part of me decided that I have to buy him something! Even if there’s hardly anything good for a newborn on the shop shelves – turns out the fun doesn’t truly start until you’re three months old. Might have to get the kid a fake ID so he can play with all the good stuff.

And you know how albums of Christmas songs and carols can be frickin’ annoying? There’s the Mariahs and the Biebers and the Gleeks. There are the terrible kids’ albums full of cheesy keyboard music with creepy vocalists. Each year of my adulthood, these types of tunes have wafted through busy, bogan filled shopping centres driving me batty and making me a little Grinchy. But this year…this year is different. This year I have decided that the Little Mister needs to be exposed to all the Christmas songs I listened to when I was little. Sure, I’ve managed to find some bearable versions on iTunes but I have basically become my parents. Playing the songs while dancing like a dork in front of the Christmas tree. Singing them off key to my poor innocent babe who did nothing to deserve such punishment. Maybe it is a good thing he won’t remember this time…although I’m hoping that he too will want a hippopotamus for Christmas.
I’ve bought my little man a particularly embarrassing outfit for Christmas day. I got it for $9 and he’ll only get to wear it once, before it’s no good to him and will be placed in the bottom of a crate somewhere until it can be bestowed upon an unfortunate second child. It’s a jumpsuit made to look like a Santa outfit. It comes with a hat and everything. He’ll probably dribble milk all over it by lunchtime and poop through it by late afternoon. Fun times! I am going to take so many photos, that he’ll have to skip the country by the time he’s 21 because those pictures will be going on a big, embarrassing photo collage of his life at his 21st birthday party. Along with some obligatory naked bath photos – why does everyone have those? You know the ones. Usually it’s you and your very best childhood friend sharing the tub, while one of your mums washes your mullets/bowl cuts. Or you and your sibling squished together in a makeshift tub (more of a bucket) on that camping trip in the 80s. Don’t pretend there isn’t one of you out there.
And to think that I hoped to be a “cool” parent some day…
On Christmas day, my firstborn will be showered in gifts, fussed over and talked to as if he actually has the faintest idea of what’s actually going on. Which he doesn’t. He’ll probably wonder what all the fuss is about, before crying his little head off because his nappy is dirty! Which incidentally, smells suspiciously like ham that has been left out in the sun. Nothing says Christmas like a baby that smells like bad ham! :P
Let’s face it. A baby’s first Christmas is really all for the adults. It’s just one big excuse for us to play with toys we’re too old for, to believe in Santa, to relive beloved family traditions (while creating some new ones) and to be a bit silly! I can’t wait! :)
How are you spending Christmas day? Do you have any traditions you love?