Why am I here? It’s 10pm and my seven week old daughter is sleeping soundly. Surely any sane new mother would be in bed right now, making the most of every precious moment SLEEPING. I hear you asking: A sane new mother? Is there such a thing? I have no idea. I have no idea of anything much at the moment really. Everything I thought I once knew has been forgotten, and everything I am supposed to know is, well, completely unknown! One minute I was eating m&ms, polishing the kettle, and listening to meditation CDs encouraging me to breathe energy and lifeforce to my baby while doing strange yoga poses on a fit ball, the next I was thrust into the world of motherhood: changing nappies, breastfeeding, settling, cuddling, not sleeping, smiling enormous smiles, kissing roly poly skin and all other things baby. Nothing, not even all those months of pregnancy, could have prepared me for this new world. And maybe that is why I’m here, to make some sense of it all in my own way.

One thing no one tells you about motherhood – the baby-brain just gets so much worse! I thought it was bad during pregnancy… my husband came to me the other day:

‘Uh, sweetheart, are a bunch of Baby’s singlets and your favourite growsuit meant to be in the bin in the bathroom?’

‘Hmm… no?’

‘Ok then – guess I’ll just get them out and pop them back in her room then hey?’

I went to a friend’s baby-shower on Saturday. She’d been telling me all about the new renovations and the baby’s room and was all excited to show me. I left home and was ten minutes late. I pulled up – at her mother’s house. About forty minutes from where I was meant to be. And the whole way there I was just so smug about the whole thing – Oh look, I don’t even need to look up the address, I’m just so clever and amazing, I was saying to myself. I bet lots of other people have to look up the address. I bet they’re all just pouring over their little maps, trying to figure out where to go. And look at me! I’m just driving straight there because I’m so great. Forty minutes and a phone call to my husband to get the address and a lot of map pouring later I arrived at the correct address and was one of the last guests there, one hour and ten minutes late.

I’ve also lost my husband’s bank card, spat my toothpaste onto the bench while standing right in front of the sink, worn clothes inside out, flooded the laundry, and called my brand new daughter by my rabbit’s name – all the while further developing my already incredibly bad caffeine addiction.

So people, I’m not that sure of much at the moment. The only thing I know for sure is that Baby has to be the cutest and most adorable and cleverest and wonderful baby I have ever come across, and she is worth every ridiculous embarrassment I have caused myself, plus more.

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