Destinations Magazine

Lost in Babyland

By Russellvjward @russellvjward

It's been a while.
Four weeks in fact. Four weeks since I last posted on this blog. Four weeks since I last sent out a stream of tweets or pinned a little something special. Four weeks since I last sat down and wrote anything at all. Four long weeks since I last came up for air.
But what a ride.
I made the conscious decision to have a month-long break from my writing.
No, that's a blatant lie. I made no such conscious decision. I haven't made a conscious decision in weeks. I haven't thought about much at all because I've been away. On holiday, if you like. I've been somewhere other-worldly where time has come to a standstill, nothing gets done in a hurry, and where little boys puke on you.
I've been to Babyland.

Lost in Babyland

Photo credit: Flickr Creative Commons (Gwen Harlow)


Dear sweet God above, please help me because I've never been to a more crazy, insane, wildly out of control place in my entire life. It's an unfathomable land of noise and mess and all-out household carnage.
In Babyland, I'm up to my eyes and ears in disposable nappies and baby shit. In Babyland, I no longer have adult conversations but smile and coo, blow raspberries and tickle chins. My reading material consists of 6-page books with short sentences and pictures of cartoon animals. Lots of cartoon animals. In Babyland, I somehow manage to lose whole chunks of my day... and to what? I couldn't even begin to tell you.
In Babyland, the highlight of my day is a trip to the loo where I can gather my thoughts and count from 1 to 10. Very. Slowly. In Babyland, achievements are measured on a lower scale to that of the real world. For example, did I manage to have a shower and wash some clothes today? If so, then that has been a successful day.
My absence from the digital airwaves in preference for this land of tiny people with grasping hands and chubby legs has not been without its emotions. I love and I loathe Babyland. I can't get enough of the mini-hugs and milk drunkenness, but I yearn to do regular things with regular people generally larger than my dog.
As a reader recently pointed out, it's ironic that my less ordinary life has actually become more ordinary. I change nappies. I tidy rooms. I sterilise bottles. I hang seventy small flannels on the washing line (which, by the way, takes approximately two hours to do).
I've also become rather adept at sitting with a baby balanced on my lap, bottle in my left hand, TV remote in my right. I'm a modern man with many new-found talents and a new-found love for Ellen. I never knew she could be this good and I now know she's coming to Australia. Woo hoo.
You see I don't mind this 'ordinariness' because, in it's own small way, it's absolutely extraordinary.
A year ago, I'd never have believed I'd now have a two-month old baby, thriving and fattening-up, inquisitive and vivacious. With a long Sydney summer stretching out before us, 2013 will be a year of learning curves and, no doubt, some tears, but at the very least it will be a year of new beginnings and hopefully many, many more wonderful adventures (in Babyland).
What goals or adventures do you have planned for this year? Have you broken any of your New Year's resolutions yet?!
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