Monday, February 02, 2015


newly planted lavender to brighten the front balcony / the sweetest pile of milky-hued (soon to be milky-scented) baby clothes

Next week marks three-months since we moved house and there's still little jobs, here and there, that need completing. Yesterday I tackled the laundry which has basically been a dumping ground for all the miscellany that I didn't know what to do with. A pile of miscellany in a sand laden laundry doesn't exactly inspire a cleaning frenzy but I got in there and did it any way; the nesting urges are in full force. How do I know? I've been paying particular attention to the skirting boards.

There were six big plastic tubs of hand-me-down newborn, baby and toddler clothes sitting beside the washing machine and my concerns about their unsorted and unwashed state were raised during every baby-related conversation I've had of late. Clearly it was bothering me more than I cared to admit so Poet and I sorted the 0000 from the 000 and cooed with each discovery. She tried to fit into all the little floral outfits and I sat on the concrete step, reminiscing. I pulled out the little wrap and top-knot beanie that Che wore home from the hospital and Daniel reminded me how hard it was to get our first-born into the car seat; a tiny newborn doesn't unfurl easily. I found the little white t-shirt with three embroidered rabbits that Poet wore mere hours after she was born and remembered the three real rabbits that were illuminated in the headlights when we pulled into the hospital car park earlier that night. Serendipitous considering she was born in the year of the rabbit and has, without doubt, a tendency to hop about.

These children, they grow fast.

With every load of little washing that made its way onto the line, I stood back and admired the greatness of it; so satisfying and heartwarming this preparation is. And regardless of the emotions that hand-me-downs conjure, there is something innately satisfying about clothes, swaddles and booties that have been worn and washed and will be worn again - seven years since they first entered our home.

Whilst I still have about a month till my estimated due date, I'm well aware that babies come when they're ready. Am I ready? No, not just yet. But then again, I have very little control over it, don't I. There's that word again: surrender.


  1. You have me reminiscing about Love's birth, which was only five short months ago. Something very warm and touching stirs when I read about your fond memories of each of your children as newborns and I feel that maybe, just maybe Love will have a sibling one day if the stars are in our favour.
    Bella xx

  2. Funny…I was so recently right where you are.
    And now I have a bag at the end of the change table and anything, bar a few very special pieces, that no longer fits Lyddie gets put in the bag to be laundered and taken to the Salvos.
    It is at once liberating and heartbreaking.

  3. Yes, surrender and now with those clothes washed and awaiting you might find it easier to do exactly that.
    I have been getting some bub clothes out in prep for baby #3 here too and my eldest is in awe at their size. It's a lovely thing to share together. The scenes you painted here are fresh in my home too. I have always loved looking at a teeny tiny jumpsuit on the line too. There is something just so lovely about it.

  4. Tending to the young really has its own set of quirks, with some that are more demanding than others. What's important is that our little ones get the proper treatments they deserve, so that they can pass every milestone as healthy as can be. Thanks for sharing that! All the best!

    Noah Marsh @ MedCare Pediatric

  5. Tis such a special time, the preparing, the waiting, the dreaming. I get so emotional packing away Eleanor's clothes that no longer fit her, something I was totally unprepared for. You've just reminded me that I might unpack them one day for another little girl (or boy) so it's not all bad. Happy nesting xxx


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