Memories of being a new mum at home.

He gives power to the weak and strength to the powerless.

Isaiah 40 : 29
Ready to get out the car and take our child into our home.

Every child begins the world again.

David Thoreau ( 1817-1862 American poet philosopher)

Routines with smaller routines fitting into each other like stacking cups . The three big cups were sleep, feed, nappy change. Nappy changing having the king cup such a lot of processing. No disposable nappies then. Scrape, rinse, soak, wash and at last on the line or inside on the clothes horse. Nevermind the process of caring for the baby’s comfort. The other processes can be imagined. I soon learnt to do a lot quietly in the dark. The less the disturbance the greater the possibility of going back to sleep really quickly. I was tired. I slept when I could. Roy didn’t automatically have time off and my parents were due to arrive in six weeks. We managed.

The sleep, feed and change routine little by little included walking Purdy with baby in the pram. Mum Dorothy was right about being close to a town. Friday was market day . I would walk into town and soon fill the basket under the pram with vegetables and once or twice some wool to knit something for our growing son. It was also on Friday that I had a teaching colleague come for lunch. I had lunch ready for her as she had just finished her 12 to 1pm class. ( I often made her soup. Chopped onions fried till clear with a little oil , then grated carrot, potato, chopped celery and tomato in some form added a little later. Then half a cup or so of red lentils. Oh yes, water!! Some seasoning. Fresh bread from the market. All done.)

I loved these visits. She was my Mum’ s age. She held our son and told me I was doing well. She also listened to my worries. Her daughter had a little boy and she put me in touch and our pram was bought from her. Roy’s colleague sold us her crib which had been lent to someone else. Roy remembers picking it up in Kew.

Then when our son was six weeks old my Mum and Dad arrived from Africa. I hadn’t seen them for about two years.

Babies are always more trouble than you thought and more wonderful .

Charles Osgood

A baby is someone you carry inside you for nine months , in your arms for three years and in your heart till the day you die.

Mary Mason

Thank you for reading this memory. I appreciated remembering my colleague.

Sandy πŸ™‚

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