The gentle lull of motherhood

lull of motherhood

Wake at 6:30am to the sweet face and voice of Baby Rosie. “Blah,” she says. Get her up so she won’t wake the others.

Potter around for an hour and a half. Drink tea. Check my emails. Give Rosie some food.

There is an hour injected with energy, making breakfast for all and lunch for preschool once Big Sister and Husband are up. The coffee machine whirrs and grumbles with promise. My husband and I celebrate life and the day over coffee (with leaf patterns) and we all eat smoked chorizo and brie on bread.

The door closes. The rush ends. Husband takes Sunshine Girl to preschool, then heads on to work.

Rosie needs sleep, so I rock her and as her eye-lids close, I put her in her cot.

For an hour or so, I am at a loose end. No work. No Sunshine Girl. I temporarily weigh up different house chores, and then decide to write a blog post. Rosie wakes as I press publish.

We potter again. I follow her. She follows me. I go out to the line, hang out the washing in the heat of the morning. Pull out some weeds. Rosie sits on an upturned terracotta pot, wearing only her rainbow hat.

She follows me inside and I feed her. The morning is dripping away, slowly. Drip. Drip. Drip.

“Doh-doh,” she says, pushing the front door. Mindlessly, I push her on her little bike up and down the front verandah.

I realise our matching Saltwater sandals have arrived from overseas. Rosie is as ecstatic as her mother. “Shoes!” We try them on, and point our toes towards each other.

I give her more food. Water. She follows me into the bathroom, while I polish the mirror with vinegar.

She motions towards a book, and sits, bare-bottomed on my lap as I read. “Boop,” she calls it. She looks out the window when she hear a bird. “Burb,” she says.

I check my phone again. Linger on an email – a blog post. Flick over to Facebook. Instagram. Rosie calls for me – “Mama,” and I follow her out to the verandah again, where we do more doh-doh. She tries to put on her sister’s helmet, but it falls over her eyes.

Suddenly, she’s too tired for do-do. Nappy on, feed, sleeping bag. I put on her music, and the fan, and again rock her. She cries into my shoulder, fighting the pain of sleep. At last her sweaty head is heavy against me, and I lay her down on her sheepskin.

It’s only 1pm. Half the day has gone. Half to go.

I work on my blogging course, and am surprised I have time to finish the slide presentation. Baby stirs, and calls out for me. I pick her up.

The others are due back soon.

It’s cool enough, at last, to take her next door to the little play park. She pulls on her rainbow hat and excitedly puts her foot forward to be donned in shoe. Hand up, she pulls me along, knowing the agenda exactly.

The see-saw is still hot. She sticks to the slide. We see a “burb” in a tree. Move closer to have a look. I am conscious of an older man sitting in his backyard, looking over the fence at us. I feel like we are too close to his territory.

I encourage Rosie home with promises of her sister’s return. She eagerly heads towards the house.

It’s nearly 5pm when they pull up – Big Sister. Husband. The lull is interrupted with chatty, giggly storytelling (Big Sister) and commentary of the day (Husband).


I value slowness. Being in the moment. But truth is, I find it hard. I am comfortable doing, making, moving, completing, achieving. I will happily sit in front of a computer and tap out 6,000 words plus in a day. My mind is comfortable when occupied.

Moving slowly after a toddler, fighting lethargy, laziness and addiction to tea is less natural for me. But today, I needed this lull. This baby-led space of simple, unhindered exploration. The greatest achievement I made today was putting away all the washing before Husband and Big Sister returned – and it was enough.

Are you are be-er or a do-er? Do you enjoy pottering around the house, or are you more comfortable being busy?

Would love to see you over at my Facebook community sometime…

  • Vicki @ Knocked up and abroad

    My life is constantly sliding between both. By nature I’m a do-er but there is always an internal struggle these days to just be. To forget what i should be doing, to lower my expectations and merely live in the moment.
    i think motherhood would have us all as be-ers but alas, the modern day woman is a complex one.

    • Gosh that’s exactly it for me Vicki. Maybe we have a similar wiring. x

  • I think I’m a potterer! But sometimes the slowness of days does get under my collar a little. It can feel a little repetitive at times x

  • I think I am more a do-er. I love to make my list and tick things off it gives me a massive sense of achievement.
    But on the flip I would love to be a be-er! Just be in the moment and soak it all up.

  • Sonia @ Natural New Age Mum

    such a blissful day! I envy you – my kids are all grown up now!

    • Yes, it’s one of the privileges of having small children I think. We are forced into slowness. x

  • Maxabella

    I’m an over-do-er is what I am. I honestly can’t ever remember having a day like this with any of my children. Something wrong there, really!! x

    • I think I am an over do-er too. I struggle to be still! x

  • Renee at Mummy, Wife, Me

    Sounds like a lovely day! I would love to have one on one time with either of my children, but it’s a little difficult these days. My life is very hectic at the moment, which I do enjoy, however I’d be just as happy if it slowed down a bit and I had those days like yours were I can just potter around.

    • I guess it’s the injection of these days from time to time that take the edge off the chaos. x

    • Thank you so much for reminding me about this post. I loved re-reading over that day! It’s amazing how you forget things. The little things. The feelings. I am suddenly really glad I have written this blog for all these years!

  • Kate

    Bliss. I am missing those quiet moments when home alone with a sleeping child. I was fortunate to have toddlers who slept until four and a half… been two months now with no naps. Missing it. I love to be a be-er but feel I should be a do-er so I have something to show for myself (or my husband) at the end of the day!

    • Toddlers who slept until 4.5 – wow. I can’t imagine! I don’t think you should have to feel like a doer if you are a be-er. I would love to be more of a be-er! x

  • I am usually a do-er but the peace I just found in your words Zanni remind me of why I am working so hard to become more of a be-er. Thank you for iniviting us inside your day with that gorgeous little cherub of yours xx

    • You are welcome Sonia. And thank you so much for hosting the linky xx

  • I could so relate to this Zanni. You also painted a lovely picture and atmosphere with your words as always. x I am more of a wanderer!

    • Sounds perfect Sarah. I would have picked you as such xx

  • Grace

    Ah, I had days like this when the twinions were younger. I definitely enjoyed pottering around the house. Now they’re at daycare, I’m getting back to getting busier with my own schedule, my own pace. So far, so good 🙂

  • Naomi Bulger

    How lovely! This day is beautiful and gentle. It reads to me like a dream. My days with my children, though no less lovely, are constant activity at top speed, passionate ups and downs, full tornadoes confined to the play-room. I am closing out Day 4 (and the final day) of single parenthood, the worst of which is always the dinner/bath/bed time for my babies. Now they are asleep and honestly I feel more dead than alive. Reading this post was like a drink of cold, fresh, home-made lemonade, and it felt like a tonic. There are gentle days, too. Thank you for reminding me!

    • There are Naomi…and it’s strange I often struggle to enjoy them as I am a chronic do-er. I often enjoy the chaos of days my big girl is around – I like the speed and the busyness. But I know these quiet days are good for the soul. x

  • Pingback: If there was a problem, yo I'll solve it - Mummy, Wife, Me()