Quietly does it...

Its so quiet at my house this morning. The only sound I hear is the overloaded washing machine straining to spin out its belly full of pink clothes. I remembered this morning - when I undressed Miss G to find her chest and body bright red with heat/something rash - that my babies skin does not like environmentally friendly washing powder. Same with the boys - and my midwife confirmed that Eco Store and most green powders are too harsh for their wee skin. So lovely hubby has popped to get a box of Lux flakes and I will rewash all the pink and yellow and baby wrapping things I can find today. In the spirit of carbon trading schemes, I must remember to make amends to nature by planting a tree, or be extra vigilant recycling my milk bottles.

May as well rewash everything in the house, cause really I have not much (besides breast feeding and gazing adoringly at my daughter) else to do. Its quiet because my big boys are up at the family farm, bonding with their grandparents, climbing trees, and riding on motorbikes. They are far to happy and busy to even talk to us on the phone. I am being totally nurtured by the lovely mothers and fathers from Days Bay Play Centre, who have organised a meal roster for 2 weeks! Every afternoon someone rolls up to deliver a gorgeous dinner, and have a chat and a goo over the baby. Last night we had canneloni, fresh bread rolls and salad, followed by fruit sponge and whipped cream. I had more fruit sponge and whipped cream at 3am following a feed, and polished the rest off for breakfast! All justified under the 'Make high quality milk for baby' banner. Its all good training for Christmas feasting, too. What a great idea for any group of people to provide for its new mums, better than any team bonding exercise invented.

My niece has been here all week, running around fetching cups of tea, glasses of water, hanging washing, and practising for our christmas ukelele concert. Her Mum folded up Mt Washing Pile and vacuumed the house before she left yesterday. Anything else I am simply choosing not to do.

I know this peacefulness will pass. Life will get frenetic again, but for now time passes quietly. I sit on the couch breastfeeding, or lie in bed breastfeeding, and occasionally glance up from examining my child's perfect feet/hands/chin rolls/sternum to look out the window at the wind ruffled pale green sea.