6 weeks

Remember when you had your first baby and everyone kept saying “just wait till you get to 6 weeks, it will be much easier”? I obsessed over those weeks, counting down the hours and crossed off each day with satisfaction and pride as I made it one step closer to the holy grail. The 6 week mark. I started to hate those words that every mother would utter to me…thinking to myself “well why does it have to be so fucking hard until then?!”. The roller coaster of hormones. The tears of pure fear and then joy. That paralysing fear of having no fecking clue to what I was doing, then in the same 10 minutes feeling completely in control, on top of things, being sooooo in love and thinking this is the best thing we have ever done ever…and aren’t we amazing for doing this. Urgh, I literally still shudder when I think about those weeks, they truly are the hardest that any woman will go through I think, and the worst bit? For {some} lucky women, like me, all those people were right. It does get easier. Huh! Bastards. Things all of a sudden get into a rhythm, whether you are sticking to a routine {or not} things just kind of slip into place. The feeds gets easier, the boobs less hard and horrible and ruined and gah! Things just kind of find some kind of normalcy amongst everything that is so foreign.

I said to Rob on Saturday afternoon that I feel like I did when I first had Daisy. And I could almost see him go white with fear. He lived with me though that time. He remembers exactly how hard it was for both of us, but especially for me. His confident wife who normally nails everything she does who all a sudden wasn’t nailing anything {except herself against the wall} who beat herself up about just about anything she could, because she didn’t know how to do it all just yet. But it’s how I feel.

I am head over heels in love with our new house. It is extraordinary. Like nothing that I never imagined myself living in. It’s a grown up house. A stylish grown up house and at times I feel like frauds that it’s just us living in it. Rob and Beth and the kids. No one fancier. Just us. I go from these feelings of pure love, to pure fear. That it’s to much house for us. How can we maintain it? How can I CLEAN it? How can I keep everything nice? How can we keep the garden from going to ruin? How will we make friends? How can I find a pre school? Will we get in? Will Daisy settle in OK? How can we keep up with the constant visitors and entertaining? Will I make friends? Will I ever get time away from the girls during the week ever again? HOW CAN WE DO IT ALL? And then I look around, slap myself and know that we will all be OK. It’s irrational. It’s based on fear of the unknown and being completely, totally and utterly out of my comfort zone.

Saturday afternoon I was like this. Cranky, sad, feeling sorry for myself, missing my family who {some of} were all at a wedding, just generally feeling a million miles away from everything I know. Rob had met some of the neighbours and gotten goss from them and I was feeling very alone {and like a toddler ready to tantrum because I HADN’T MET ANYONE yet} I could see Rob getting cranky too, the kids in turn getting cranky, it was the house of crank. We got the girls to bed nice and early and I drove into one of the nearby towns to pick up some pizza. It was Saturday night after all – take away can still happen here can’t it?! And as I drove on that highway, the late afternoon sunshine hitting this amazing countryside, the cows, the sheep…all that crank just shrugged off me. I went to buy some firewood from the servo {because it was so freaking cold} and the man was so nice to me, so country and honest and nice that I almost cried. When I picked up the pizza I saw people coming into the restaurant all dressed up for Saturday night date night, the lady at the front saying “Jeez I like how your hair looks! Nice change of colour Sandy!” I was warmed that we live somewhere that people take the time to care and engage. And I thought that one day, in the not too distant future someone will know me. Know us. Know our girls. And it’s all going to be OK.

It’s only week 2 after all right? RIGHT?!

So this week, I am going to keep busy, try to meet some people myself, try and do all the things we used to do in the city and remember that it all just takes time. 6 weeks? Who knows…6 months or at least 12 months I am sure, but we will get there. And in the meantime, this is some place to figure it all out. The beauty of the house, the village, the nearby towns and countryside that are all so, so SO beautiful. Yes, this will do just nicely. Thank you very much.


  1. From personal experience (moving Sydney to London – WAYYY out of my comfort zone), it does get better, it does get OK. I promise!


  2. Yup, I second what Jade said, three years ago we moved from London to Sydney with a six month old and it was like I had been transplanted to another planet. So much to learn, cultural differences and I missed my friends and my family desperately. But slow and steady steps towards a goal meant I felt a sense of achievement daily and I did manage to make friends. You will be fine! The adjustment period is always hard.

  3. It took me a year to really love it here. Not to freak you out but go easy on yourself. Its week 2!!

    You’ll meet lots of mums at preschool no doubt πŸ™‚

    Just have fun and enjoy your beautiful house. And get a gardener!

  4. Moving is such a stressful thing, especially moving to somewhere unfamiliar.

    Before long you won’t be able to remember what it was like not to live there.

    Take care x

  5. There may be moments where you feel lonely & isolated, but you’re not really. We’re all here reading and admiring your house (too!) and cheering you on as you change your life for the better. There’s no way your kids and family won’t thrive in your new space. We’re only a click away. x

  6. Gosh I’m a such a skimmer, I had to read this twice to work out you weren’t pregnant πŸ˜›

    Seriously though, that fish out of water feeling does pass – when we moved to the Hills it felt like the boondocks – and I didn’t know a soul, felt quite disconnected with three little kids (2 x18m and 1x3yo).

    I got involved with the local playgroup, went to the park and now we’re at school – you will build up a network in no time.

    Hope you like tea πŸ˜›

  7. Of course you’ll be fine. I don’t think we can truly appreciate something if it doesn’t freak us out – preferably by quite a bit.

    And why not become quite an old-fashioned house-wife till you get the hang of it and divide your chores into daily things (monday washing the sheets and vacuuming, tuesday mopping the floors and bathrooms…).

    And enjoy x

  8. Right!

    I felt exactly the same way about our grown up house. It seemed to lovely, too special, too intimidating to be ours. We felt like frauds for ages… or about six weeks at least!

    Just quietly, I always found the first 12 weeks with a new baby to be utterly farked up. Six weeks came and went and still all was sobbing sodding awful. But by come week 12… sigh… bliss.


  9. Okay, let’s swap them….I’ll take your beautiful new house, and it will resolve the problem entirely.


    I’m just joking. But I do know that you guys are going to settle in and soon enough, will be too busy to blog for all your new friends and activities.

  10. Settling in will take time.

    Adjusting to a new suburb, house, life, does make you feel out of sorts, but every day that passes will get easier.

    Embrace this new change. It all sounds amazing.


  11. ahhh beth oh do I know how you feel ! the move here to Singapore had very similar feelings. I hated being new , and so so over not knowing where everything was. Its been 6 months now and the newbie shoes are starting to fade !

    this is truly the right time for you guys to make your mark in the county whilst not forgeting your “city chic” roots !

    xx k

  12. I say enjoy the anonymity for now! Embrace it. Before you know it, you’ll have busy social calendars and you’ll think back fondly to when it was just you, Hubby and the kids.

    Hubby and I moved to Sydney in Dec ’95, and for the first 6mths, it was mostly just us hanging together on weekends. We started off as tourists, and then before too long, we were invited to join others on weekends and started to feel like Sydneysiders. I still think back fondly to that time when it was just us on the weekends.

    Everything will fall in to place. It will. Embrace every second, hon. xxx

  13. Give yourself a good 6 months to adjust to the new lifestyle. When we moved to the ‘burbs’ I felt totally removed from all my old friends and the life we used to know. But, as everyone says it DOES get better! One of the best things I did was join a local Playgroup (maybe you could look into that). Nearly 3 years on and I LOVE our life up here and the friends we have made. You WILL be fine honey, I know you will!!

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