Travels with a baby – one year on

A time thief is evidently on the loose. This time last year, I was working on bringing Minnie in to the world – and I cannot believe that 12 months have gone past since.

I couldn’t have guessed how quickly things change. Even these last few weeks have seen a mini transformation, as she masters various new skills, chatters away almost non-stop (including a few identifiable words) and shrieks when thwarted in her plans for world domination (at least over the pot plant, her toys and any tissues left within a five mile radius).

And she’s not the only one who’s different, of course. I remember taking her to be weighed at a few weeks old, my first trip out alone with her, terrified something was going to happen, unsure of anything I was doing, heart pounding. Since then, I’ve taken her on three trips abroad, including a long-haul flight to America, she’s seen snow and the sea, prowling tigers and free roaming rabbits, she’s charmed waiters galore and melted down on several long journeys.

She’s beaten jetlag and slept in a dozen different travel cots, two buggies and a carrier. I can even fit her paraphernalia into her luggage allowance (with a bit of help from my own).

As well as Lanzarote and the US, she’s also seen a fair amount of the UK, from the New Forest to the west of Wales, the stunning architecture of Oxford and several beaches around the south coast. She’s ventured to Yorkshire, tried ice cream (brrr cold) and attempted to eat sand.

I’ve changed her on car seats, floors, in sprawling shopping malls and outside historic palaces, fed her in parks, on planes and restaurants. She’s been on a cruise ship, an electric buggy and a bike trailer, splashed in the waves (from a wave machine) and swum in outdoor pools. 

I’ve encountered the kindness of strangers and discovered the world through her fascinated eyes. I’ve also scrabbled together enough babysitting to have two massages for my poor abused aching back.

Perhaps we haven’t trekked through the jungle in Borneo or racked up enough frequent flyer miles for a business class return to, well, anywhere, but we’ve tested hotels, villas and cottages together, and planned our next trip to Portugal already – a lot more than the naysayers would have you believe. And this is just the first 12 months – and I felt like we got off to a slow start too.

Apparently, turning one means my baby is no longer a baby (yes she is, back off official classifiers). Instead the toddler years are beginning. I foresee tantrums, tearing around after her and a lot more adventure.

 

Image courtesy of Depositphotos

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