Lumped with this, I packed 20 nappies – being a disposable novice, 3 changes of clothes for Eliza, one avocado, licorice and a good chunk of rice cereal. Really what else would I need?

At the airport, the departure was then delayed by 3 hrs meaning the new (stupid) schedule didn’t line up any more. Fortunately for us as we then pulled the nervous mother and bubba traveling alone card and suddenly found ourselves on a different airline with a bassinet the whole way and direct to Italy. Phew. I was dreading arriving in Paris as I have an overdue fine from 2003 – value €90.

Here are some tips on how to pull the baby card -
Dress bubba in gender appropriate colored outfit for easy identification – people like to get it right;
Have a large overflowing bag falling from one shoulder;
Forgo lunch so that your hands tremble when handing over your passports;
Have pre fed the small creature to make them highly sociable;
Stare at the sign behind the check in counter – this helps avoid eye contact and will make you appear teary;
And finally, take partner with you to check in to kick some serious butt.

Footnote: pack sticky tape as it allows you to tape newspaper over the bright destination screen which sits above the bassinet.

Can’t say it was pleasant, but nothing compared to the 4 hrs of verbal abuse that came out of his mouth. Everyone on the flight had to hear it. If I had been in more a jovial mood I would have sampled it and then made some kind of rap mix but the sad thing is that it was real and not just some b grade script.

At somepoint he glared in our direction and looked like a cornered ox before slaughter.

Secretly I was hoping Eliza would do a mega stinky poo so I could stuff the nappy in his mouth.

We also had a swim in the ocean, which didnt go down super well with her. I think shes a bit skinny yet to deal with the temps, but instead really enjoyed showing off her pink bits on the sand. In all a good first mini adventure. Only disappointment was all the milk I managed to collect and then didn’t need on the drive. Other highlights included a run through the bush, non olive olive bread, the rediscovery of the versatility of a hot cross bun and $3 yoghurt (family size of course).

I have lost so many hours just staring at her and cooing in a kinda odd way. I fret when she cries and hate to see her distressed. Thats only happened once when I ate chilli squash soup and her poor belly blew up like a balloon. Needless to say, 3 power poo explosions and 4hrs later all was back to normal.

We spend our days walking the streets of the inner North, scoping the library and checking for bargains at any one of the 3 IGA supermarkets in this area. If one has the time, there are treats to be found everywhere – even just the discovery of new parks and getting her nude in public areas. Cloth nappies are going well, and work even better when you read the directions on how to fold them.

In 6 weeks, she has been to a wedding, a funeral, Sydney, done a days work, made Anzacs and a cake, put on a kg and attended paint n play. In all, an awesome start to an adventurous life.

The secret garden project behind the laundry shed is progressing. Im battling with the invisible possum, but have to say that Ive picked 4 snow peas and a mini strawberry. I am waiting to find some chicken wire on the side of the road to make a complete enclosure. We moved the worm farm there too, Gail had been worm sitting for about 4 years and we thought it was time to risk body corporate wrath. Speaking of which, in my impending motherliness, I think ide like to go to the next meeting. Im not the only one assuming social responsibility. Evan speaks of lobbying for more community BBQs and ping pong tables.

Lately Ive been getting bigger – thats to be expected, but this pregnancy gig is more than a probation period for heavyness. Its 28weeks+5day now, and if I was working in the public service would have accrued some annual leave. Everything is looking good. Danny D is stagnating, and Blyto has assumed full controll of my uterus. Ugh. Im using that ‘u’ word. Guess its better than the ‘f’ word (no kids… fundus). Im still wearing my own jeans, but have to sit down to put on my shoes and am thinking a shoe horn could be a good investment.

Comfort has come from hearing these stories and seeing that a problem of mine can also be an opportunity for others to grieve and share something that is rarely discussed. 30+ years ago, women were told to simply “Go home and try again” following a miscarriage. And, everyone did. For me, solace is that all these women are brilliant mothers with 1-4 kids each between them.

It is strange how somethings lie within the grey area of life making them so difficult to talk about.

Blyto however continues to kick Danny deVito’s arse and is 20 weeks today. Happy halfway spudlink!

Our lotto ticket is just to keep walking ahead, praying (but not in a  religious manner) for good fortune and taking this life as it comes. Yes, it does make me wonder again why overweight, smoking, drinking nut jobs make having a baby seem so easy.

The only question now is… will we qualify for two baby bonus cheques?**

** just kidding

As for sprung – that’s the growing lump. This morning my pants were almost too tight. I used the typical female excuse of “theyre freshly washed” which really deep down didnt cut it with the husband (or myself). It just highlighted the ever growing thing which is making my life more breathless. Climbing on the weekend (tr) was more than exercise. On routes I have waltzed up previously, I had to pull harder than ever and dismiss the sound of the steam train coming from my lungs. Fortunately I remember sneaky rests and was able to nap in the sun in between.

The other thing discovered this week was a list of things not to eat. One of the items was sprouts. Im going to miss my sprouts and am investigating this further to see if its American hype or something I should be really worried about.