I remember the day well. It was a Saturday. I’d started it drinking raspberry leaf tea and ended it eating spicy lamb chops, hoping desperately that one of these things would kick start labour before I went in to be induced.
In between the old-wives tales, my husband and I spent several hours at a car dealership, test-driving an SUV we were looking to buy for the sole purpose of being able to drive around with our kelpie and our soon-to-be-born kid at the same time.
Neither the tea nor the chilli worked but we did end up with a new car. And this car has HEAPS of toys in it, but not for the reason you’d think.
You see, the most important toy in the car stays with the car at all times. He’s a shaggy bear who’s aged nearly 40, called (imaginatively) “Big Ted”. One of my childhood bears, I retrieved him from my parents’ house after my son started childcare. His sole reason for being, now, is to warn my sleep-deprived brain that my son is in the car. Big Ted is my furry guardian to help prevent “Forgotten Baby Syndrome”.