Let Go and Let God

How many times haven't I heard people say this: often in the midst of some or other stress or strain under which people seem to not really be coping. I can't say that I've used this phrase often, or that I've paid too much attention to it when I've heard it. Mostly it has gently tickled over my one ear before leaving straight out the other. Until today.

This morning I learnt a hard lesson about letting go. And then about letting God.
This morning Zac rolled out of the bed: tumbling to the floor with a thud that startled me, and a scream that sent me into a massive panic. I wish I could say that I was busy, that I just turned away for a moment, and wiggly little Zac shot off the bed before I had a chance to do anything. The truth is though, we were both asleep after a pre-sunrise feed. I was so fast asleep that I didn't even feel him move out of my usually secure hold of him. I think he was asleep too, actually. And immediately when we woke we were equally shocked and frightened.

Zac cried for a few seconds, had no visible indication of any injury or discomfort, and was soon happily feeding and laughing at me. My recovery was not as fast. I too cried (for half an hour straight, and then some), and immediately I was condemning myself; questioning my abilities and sense of responsibility. How could I have left him on the open side of the bed? How could I not have woken through his movements? How could I let go?

And through the lambasting I was giving myself, I almost heard God lovingly ask, "and since when have you been perfect? Don't you know you are never going to be able to protect Zac from everything that could, possibly, maybe happen to him? You don't control things, I do. And what's more: you need me too. You cannot possibly even begin to 'excel' as a parent without my help..."

Such a meaningful lesson, and so difficult to apply some times.

Sometimes we let go because we choose to. Other times we let go because we're made to, or something cuts the rope that's holding us, or like this morning, we are just so tired we just stop holding on. In each case though, the question is not about why we are holding on, but rather what we are holding on to.

Regardless of which area of our lives this may apply to, we all need to remember: (as Jorja says) "God is with you". I imagine Him hovering below where we're hanging, daring us to just let go so that He can catch us and sweep us up in His arms, and take us higher and further, opening our clenched shut eyes to all we were missing in our fear, exhaustion and pride.

Thank God Zac is fine. Thank God I will be fine too. Perhaps now that I know I am no longer in the running for the world's most perfect parent, I can stop beating myself up trying to be that. Perhaps now I will really let go, and let God.



Little Gangster Zac

Bed Battling

This past weekend we went away to Port Owen with the du Plessis. While we were all pretty excited to get away, we were equally nervous by the fact that it was our first weekend away with the boys, without any additional babysitters!

After unsuccessfully trying to persuade aunty Dominique to assist in this department (unfortunately for us, we just could not match the offer of yet another 21st birthday party), off we went - 4 adults, 3 children and around 200 bags all packed tetris-style into Papu's green bus.

Port Owen is a lovely little marina along the West Coast, about 90 minutes outside of  Cape Town. We didn't arrive there until 19h00 on Friday evening, but we still managed to see the sunset on our way. We were greeted with drinks and canapes, and were pleasantly surprised by how well kitted out our waterfront duplex was (you know that you're married with kids when you see a washing machine and tumble-dryer, and immediately regret not packing in your washing!).

Our home on the water's edge

The biggest attraction, for sure, was the king-sized bed in the main bedroom (when you're married with children, any amount of extra space is a major plus!). Situated on the second floor with a balcony and waterfront view, we were all hoping that someone would want the other room downstairs. That said, it made sense that the du Plessis settle into the big room - after all, how many times in your life do you get to fit your whole family onto one bed, and still each have enough room?

There were four in the bed, and the little one said...

The room downstairs was equipped with single beds - not that Andel minded at all. He has waited patiently for an opportunity to have his own space. Unfortunately for him, it didn't come this weekend, because Zac, who has recently given up his crib (well, actually, we had to take it back as our rental had expired) and no longer really fits into his carrycot, decided that he was going to sleep, starfish-style, on the one single bed, leaving Andel and me to share the other!

Sleeping arrangements aside, we had a lovely time. We enjoyed mornings on the patio, hearty (and healthy) meals, home-baked treats, and satellite tv. We also took to some activities on, and in, the water, and took a drive into the nearest dorp.

Brekkie tasters for Ethan

 

Only sight-seeing for Zac

Taking a much needed break from the babies

Jorja, our little mermaid

At the end of it all, I'd say it was a pretty successful weekend. I, for one, was proud of the fact that, for the most part, Zac behaved and we were all able to 'handle' our children without too much drama.

A daddy's work is never done! :)

The early morning roadtrip home on Monday was bitter sweet. While we thoroughly enjoyed  having a relaxing Sunday, no one really wants to go straight from holiday into the office!

But at least we get to all go back home, to our respective beds. I'm especially excited about this, as this will be the last week Zac is sleeping in his carrycot in our room. This weekend, he moves into his big bed, in the cot!

Working Nine-to-Five

When I rejoined the workforce 6 weeks ago, no one told me it was going to be quite this challenging. In the hustle and bustle, and frantic organising of husband, baby and self, I really have not even thought about the blog. Hell, most days, I'm lucky if I can think of anything at all!

On paper it seemed so simple: Andel would take Zac to daycare on his way to work every morning, and I, after finishing all my work at work, would fetch Zac at 16h00. Right. In reality, I take boxes and boxes of marking and lesson preparation home every day, only to return to work with them the next day, untouched.

Spending time with Zac is a priority, so between play-time and bath-time, not forgetting feeding-time, there is little rest-time. And more often than not, when Zac finally puts his sleepy head down by 21h00, mine goes down right along with his!

Working mothers - the real kind (not like me who can finish at 15h00) - you are my heroes! How you manage to work full days, and rear pretty awesome kids (without any issues of neglect or insecurity), and do it with smiles on your faces astounds me! One day when I'm big, I want to be just like you!

So my apologies for not blogging. So much has happened, and there's lots to fill you in on - which I resolve to do more timeously! Just as soon as I'm done with this term... kidding!

Hi-ho, hi-ho, it's back to work I go...

So 12 weeks and 3 days of my 13 week maternity leave period have passed, and on Monday morning I go back to work.

It may come as a surprise to most that I think I'm looking forward to going back. The last 3 months have really flown by, and, looking back, there are a lot of things that I wish I had done differently (including using a belly binder and starting some exercise), but then retrospect is always 20/20, isn't it?

Even before Zac was born I was feeling a little guilty about going back. I willingly worked until the Friday before the Sunday I went into labour. The truth is though, I miss being creative and productive. Sure, I have learned to be many other kinds of creative and productive at home, but for the first time in a long time, I actually enjoy my job - and honestly, as much as I love my son, and treasure every second we spend together, I'm just not very good at being home with him every day, all day, all alone. Something about the lack of company and poor weather (for the most part anyway) made it lose some of its initial (idyllic) appeal.

All that said, Zac is still very young. I'm reminded when I see the other kids at my Mom's daycare - Ethan included - sit up, hold their own bottles/utensils, and go to swimming lessons... my little boy will only be 3 months old next week - when I'm already back at work. And yet, he seems to fit right in at Bonny Babies. He loves the company (and conversation) of the other children there, and as soon as he sees Ethan, he wiggles in my arms, his little feet kicking furiously in excitement. I only hope that one day if he asks why I went back so soon, he won't feel that he was neglected.

Fortunately (I think) God has reassured me that (a) He knows exactly how I'm feeling (and how I'm wired), and (b) that it's ok to want the balance of work. On Sunday we heard a sermon on how we have been created by God with the privilege and blessing to create - to work. The preacher likened it to a small child being able to play in a sandpit: exploring and creating and imagining as much as they want. Work was never meant to be a negative, horrible experience. It was meant to bring us joy and God glory.

I realise it's a far cry from what most of us experience. Many of us feel bored, frustrated, overworked and underpaid. Not so long ago that was me, but I'm so grateful that I'm now in a (new) position to try to experience it the 'right' way. I challenge you to find something you love to do (most often it's the area in which God has gifted you) and make your work your worship. After all, if we're spending 45+ hours at work every week, we may as well be doing something that we enjoy!

Am I going to miss being home with Zac? Absolutely. Am I going to replace him with my work? Absolutely not. From Monday, both Zac and I will have the pleasure of a few hours with our peers, being creative and having our minds stimulated, and then the unrivalled joy of being reunited and (undoubtedly) smothered in hugs and kisses. I can't actually wait...

Happy Birthday to Me

So yesterday I turned 29, a far less scary and emotional experience than turning 28 (if you remember last year's birthday post). I think the fact that my birthday fell inside my maternity leave also contributed to the fact that it felt very much like just another ordinary day.

Zac spent the morning at Bonny Babies - his second day this week. According to the principal, he is getting better: while he still screams the school down, apparently, it's not as bad or as long as before. And miraculously, the limited expressed milk I've had to send with him has lasted his stay! Instead of rushing for a swim (which by the way, is not the best thing to do before a feed...) or sitting in front of the pile of marking I still have to do, I went to the hairdresser. Evidently, grooming is a universal pick-me-up for mommies, because when I mentioned that I was feeling frumpy, no mommy in the salon could resist the urge to laugh out loud and then 'amen' in agreement! So for 3 peaceful hours, while my hair was being done, I had my feet up, sipped on my tea and paged through a series of magazines (and only occasionally messaged my mom for an update on Zac).

Later Zac, Andel and I went for a late lunch of miso soup, chicken chow mein, spring rolls and sushi. After a year of no sushi, I really thought I'd be knocking them back. However, it seems for all the room in my belly, it can't hold as much sushi as it used to... Nevertheless it meant I had sushi for dinner.

I guess the biggest change in this year's celebrations was that we were not out with our friends socialising at some trendy restaurant/bar or painting the town red. This year, we were at home for 'tea'. As I rearranged the living room to accommodate everyone Andel piped up "hey, are we having a prayer meeting?", and just like that, with savoury biscuits in one hand, and milktart in the other, I crossed the threshold into the years of the 'mommy-party'.

Not that anyone complained, mind you. Yaya made a caramel and cream red velvet cake, and PJ made a white-chocolate mousse cake (well worth the 4 year wait!), as well as dessert. Everyone left with full (albeit turning) bellies, and sugar-rush-induced happy faces.

But, by far, the happiest faces were in my home this morning: Zac, who is happiest after a good sleep, woke with a wide gummy smile, only marginally bigger than his parents' who enjoyed their second night of uninterrupted sleep in one week! Yaya, watch this space! ;)

Small Victories

Today's post is to celebrate just a few of Zac's small stuff: the day-to-day things that are often overlooked or taken for granted, but which count for so, so much.

1. Zac's Growth & Development
This week Zac graduated to size 2 nappies, meaning he's becoming a big(ger) boy. He also went for his 10 week vaccinations on Monday, and demonstrated his remarkable strength, constantly kicking his leg free from the knee-lock position I was holding it in. He is healthy, and weighs 5.4kg and is 58cm long. While Andel's still hoping for a rugby player, Zac is currently in the backline.

As I write this, Zac is displaying another talent: he is watching Adele Live in Concert, and is singing along - no jokes!


2. Mommy's Naptime Methodology
It seems my middle-of-the-night reading is paying off. This week, I discovered (and it seems so obvious now) that if I catch Zac's sleep signals before he actually starts screaming, I can put him down to nap more easily. And what do you know: it works. Zac has had a morning nap every day this week. I simply swaddle him, give his dummy and hold him close, and as soon as he's asleep, set him in his crib.


3. Bedtime
Just when I was getting used to my unpredictable child, he (and I) set into a routine of a 21h00 bedtime, followed by 6 hours of sleep, a quick feed and then another good 4 hours sleep. Until last night. Last night Zac went to bed, and after 6 hours, stirred but didn't wake. I woke. Then. And 2 hours after that. And again at 06h00 when Zac finally opened his eyes. My boy slept right through the night, yay!


Now Yaya says it doesn't really count until he sleeps through twice more, and his 'routine' lasts 2 weeks. But for us, for now, we're just celebrating small victories.

Photo Update: Bellana

Bright and early on Thursday 9th August we left on what is now an annual family holiday. Usually we rough it out in a mountain cottage on the Bainskloof Pass. This year, however, with two new(ish) babies, we thought it best to go somewhere a little more kitted out, so to speak - and what a good spot Papu found: a beautiful house in Betty's Bay, warm, cosy and overlooking the ocean. Even though it was still pretty cold, we all had a pretty good time - as I'm sure you'll be able to see in the pics below.

(these are only some of the 200+ photographs that were taken!)

Packed and ready to go

 

No chance of us fitting in one car anymore!

Jorja doing the rounds, all cosy and warm

Ethan decided to nap while waiting for Yaya

Bellana: the beautiful view on the balcony

Zac loves his Daddy's singing

 

Jorja trying out any and every hiding spot

 

An added service: the babysitters club

 

Jorja's precious playtime with her Mama

One half of the breakfast table

 

No outing with Papu would be complete without a braai!

Natasha in babysitting training

 

I'm not sure there are many tables we can all fit comfortably around anymore

Can you imagine what each grandchild must be thinking?

Papu and Yaya couldn't have known what they were starting when they first sang 'Jersulam' to Zac - he loves it so much, they now constantly have to sing it to him! :)

All The Things They Say...

I know it has been absolute ages since I last posted. This blogpost was written three weeks ago, but we have had problems connecting our computer to the internet, and so all my blogposts have been stored out of reach for a while... Let's hope it's the last of that!

You know, when you find out that you’re pregnant, it’s naturally a time of great excitement. Everyone is wondering whether it’s a girl or a boy, and who s/he’s going to look like. Every person you bump into has an opinion on whether your bump is too big or too small, and women who’ve been pregnant before you (or not even) are giving advice and warnings at every opportunity: what birth plan to go for, whether to take meds or not, how much maternity leave is enough… It becomes quite a lot to deal with. And it really doesn’t ease up after the birth: should you sleep train or comfort, co-sleep or not, demand feed or schedule? My experience has typified this; I had really heard it all!

Except how overwhelmed I would feel that first week: how my lack of knowledge and experience would far outweigh the ‘inconvenience’ of lack of sleep, how I’d have night-sweats and bleeding, how my baby would chew away at my aching breasts, and how his belly stump would ooze gunk even after it’d fallen off – they seemed to have left those parts out.

They also didn’t mention how my heart would explode with love, and spill over and out into my arms. They didn’t tell me how natural it would feel to be covered in wee and spit-up milk, and to wake at the first sound of my boy stirring. They forgot to say how quickly I would fall in love with his scent and his face, and how I would voluntarily watch him sleep for hours just to gaze upon the miracle of his creation, and adoringly wonder how this beautiful boy could possibly be my child.

And maybe that’s not all bad. To have discovered this over the last 5 weeks has been a journey I wouldn’t trade for the world. As I write this Zac is sleeping in his crib next to me. He’s been ill with bronchiolitis this week so far, and although his bad cough and tight chest have been really scary at times, he’s been smiling through it all. If I wasn’t sure how much I loved him, this week has shown me. And what’s more: it’s taught me about the love our Daddy God has for us. That He could love me even more than this blows my mind.


"What marvelous love the Father has extended to us!
Just look at it - we are called children of God!"
1 John 3:1a ~ The Message

Ps. In case you weren’t certain God loves me: I received my academic results, and despite being pregnant throughout my year of studying, I have passed cum laude! I also got a wonderful surprise from work: I am getting 6 weeks paid maternity leave, and got a 1st semester bonus, meaning that all my maternity leave is covered financially. Praise God! ...I told you He loves me!

Meeting Zac

It’s hard to believe that this is the first chance I’ve had to sit and write. But then, the last two weeks have been pretty eventful…

Exactly two weeks ago, I was sitting in our living room, much like I’m doing now, (over)eagerly awaiting something to happen. I had spent the better part of the previous night up with contractions, and having had so many Braxton Hicks before, I was certain that by the morning I would be going to hospital. To still be sitting at home at lunch time was, quite understatedly, a disappointment. Still, it was Father’s Day, and as much as I had really hoped that Andel would be able to celebrate it as a father, I couldn’t let my emotions not let me celebrate my own father. So, as planned, we went to Papu and Yaya’s house for tea, to be followed by dinner.

By the time we sat down for dinner though, those contraction-like movements were back. I couldn’t tell how long they’d been back for (surely, if they were the real thing, I would know?), but started taking notice when they got progressively closer together – like 7 minutes close together! While my waters hadn’t yet broken, I thought I’d be safe and call the doctor, who promptly told me to get myself to the hospital. So in the middle of dinner (before I got to have Papu’s apple crumble and custard!) we left for the hospital with contractions a mere 5 minutes apart.



Andel's every whim was catered for: a lazyboy and dstv

Trying to brave the pain without meds (stupid girl!)

After a quick examination, the appearance of my show, and some foetal monitoring, the doctor declared that I was in active labour, and would be holding my baby in the morning. Of course, when he said morning, I was thinking early hours of the morning. What I didn’t expect was a marathon 13 hours of labour. After braving the pain for 5 hours, I took some meds (if it’s on offer, why not, I say). Two hours after that, I could feel more pain – more than I had ever experienced in my life; pain no amount of bravery could combat! I practically begged for an epidural, and felt instant relief once it was administered. By this time though it was 04h00 in the morning, and much to my concern, there was still no sign of my baby. At 07h00 after yet another examination, the doctor recommended an emergency caesarian. He explained that the baby was in some distress, and that despite my contractions being very close together, and the baby being ready to come out, my body was not ready to let him out.

Now I was pretty set on having a natural birth. I was looking forward to pushing my body, and then my baby, but at that moment if the doctor had told me he needed to amputate my left leg to get my baby out, I wouldn’t have hesitated to let him. So an hour later, on Monday 18 June 2012 at 08h13 (on cousin Christopher’s 24th birthday), completely incoherent compliments of a failed epidural top up and a very effective spinal block, I met Zac James Klaasen.


And then there were three...

Zac and I spent the next three days in the hospital: getting to know each other, learning the ropes, and being showered with love and support. Since then, we have been at home. Following a 6-day weekend Andel spent with us, I've taken the more conservative approach and not left the house at all (it's not like the weather has helped coaxed us out) - choosing instead to ease into our new life together. While I'm still a bit tender and sore, I'm definitely more mobile (navigating the stairs, as well as getting used to doing everything with one hand, and only one eye open), and trying to remember to savour every moment of this time.

And Zac: he's the sweetest, most gorgeous boy; a sound sleeper and particular eater, with mysterious eyes, many expressions and a strong will. He may look exactly like his Daddy, but one thing's for sure: he's his Mommy's boy!


Zac James Klaasen

Pat-a-Cake, Pat-a-Cake...

It's amazing how pending motherhood changes women: they seem to develop the strangest and most wonderful skills, often in areas never explored before. I have not escaped this, and have found it to be true, most notably, in the kitchen!

Despite Andel's often public declaration of "we can't really cook and stuff" (by the way, I like how I cook just fine - I choose not to make stews!), I have never spent more time in my kitchen - or my mom's or sister's or any one I can get into - than over these last 9 months! And I'm not spending my time experimenting with gourmet sarmies. I, my friends, am baking!

I have tried and tweaked recipes for cookies, brownies, cupcakes, muffins and baked desserts, and I was pretty happy with that for a while. But then, after following all Tarrin's culinary designs with a drool and a dream for tea and cake, I wanted to attempt a proper cake - one with rolled icing and everything. So I decided I would make one for Ethan's dedication (not like I really needed an occasion).

Clearly, being pregnant has also made me a little loony: I don't think it's at all sensible to make your first attempt the day before the cake is required, but that's exactly what I did. And, needless to say, when I got to Ash I realised I'd forgotten most of the essential ingredients and tools at home! Still, I was determined to make this cake, come hell or broken water!

While the cake was baking, I started rolling out more than half a kilo of icing - and got a good upper body workout in the process!

Once the cakes (two different sizes!) had cooled (and been successfully stuck together with chocolate icing) Ash helped me cover it with the rolled icing.

Then came the trimming and styling. I don't yet know to get it smooth and flat without destroying the entire thing!

The decorating: my favourite part! There was even enough icing to make a necklace of pure sugar around the base.

I was pretty impressed at being able to create all the letters (even though I did screw them up later in the process).

Initially I was told that liquid food colouring would disintegrate all the icing, so I braved it out and began painstakingly hand-painting in bits of blue to add some much needed colour!

 

Well, what do you know: the colour didn't disintegrate the icing after all! It was a little late to make any drastic changes, but at least we managed to make it look somewhat less clinical!

The final product: double chocolate sponge cake with chocolate butter icing, covered in a rolled icing.

In retrospect, I think I'm better at conceptualising the cake than actually making it. I suppose it turned out ok though. Considering that I managed to do almost everything wrong, I was quite happy that the cake made it to the dedication, and even to Jorja's birthday, and that everyone who had a slice was left smiling and satisfied!

Disclaimer: 

I would not recommend that any 38+ week pregnant women attempt this!

(After 6 hours on my feet I nearly missed the dedication altogether to give birth!)

School's Out

After 18 assignments, 12 long months (9 of which were spent being pregnant) and a total 6 weeks of exams, I wrote my final paper today. Granted, it's been a while since I last had to suck so much information from my thumb, it's still a pretty momentous occasion!

It's a bit of a strange feeling. It's been an unforgettable year: starting my first assignment on a flight to the UK, many late nights and early mornings searching the web, and textbooks keeping me company on weekend shifts. And just when I thought I was beginning to successfully juggle work and studying, we found out we had a baby on the way, and I moved into a new job. Who could have predicted all that would change during this time?

When I look back, I think if I had known the challenges I would face, I may never have begun. But God is so good like that: even in the most difficult times, He always provided me with someone or something to help and support me, and right until the end, He has held both Peanut and me in His protective hand. Whether I've been quietly confident or a near nervous wreck, I know that this was always part of His perfect plan for my life...

And so tonight I pack the books away. And just as this season ends, a new one begins: the student becomes the teacher; the child becomes a mother - and I'm pretty sure that combination will keep me occupied... until my next qualification anyway! :)

Preparing for Peanut

Yesterday, Peanut and I were invited to a little tea party - for us! While Andel and I were doing very little preparing for Peanut, Ashleigh and Dominique spent the better part of the last few weeks planning a baby shower!

Most of our closest friends and family were present to participate in the fun and share in the excitement. We played games (the golden oldies beat the pants off us at Baby Bingo), did foil-art (who knew it required so much brain power) and tested my baby knowledge (I think it's safe to say this mommy-to-be is still in the teething phase of motherhood!). The family and friends overseas were sorely missed, but fondly remembered as Ash shared the letters they sent for us.

Even Peanut got a name tag :)

 

Ash explaining the rules of the games



Can you spot the other pregnant fairies?


Of course, a tea party just wouldn't be complete without something sweet to eat, and boy, these organisers did not disappoint. Despite not really having much of a sweet tooth, I think this was my favourite part of the afternoon. The thoughtful attention to detail that went into each little creation warmed my heart (and nearly wet my eyes) as we tucked into the most delicious cupcakes, biscuits, chocolates and pastries - each uniquely linked to the baby theme.

Aren't these the cutest cookies you've ever seen?

Yummy cupcakes

I know a few kids who'd like this kind of pacifier!

Towards end of the afternoon, I was given a table full of gifts and goodies for Peanut - clothing, toiletries, nappies, a bath, a feeding pillow, blankets and much, much more!

Opening all Peanut's presents

Getting some help from Lexi

So now, with just over a month to go, we're very much on that last stretch, and inbetween exams, work and everything else, we're preparing for our new world of baby blues... No, don't worry, not the postpartem type; the kind that inevitably accompanies the arrival of a much anticipated little boy...

Babymoon

This past weekend, Andel and I snuck away on our babymoon vacation (yes, it has taken me this long to reconnect with the real world!). After months of vacillating between ideas of where to go, how long to go for, and whether or not I'd be able to manage a flight, we decided to drive to the beautiful valley of Tulbagh, and enjoy a weekend at Vindoux Guest Farm.

We were promised a private luxury treehouse, warm hospitality and country-kitchen food, and we were not disappointed.

Treehouse number 3

Hardly a humble nest

Andel at his happiest

It was so hot when we got there on Friday afternoon (sorry to rub that in), Andel even managed to get in a good swim.

Such a poser, this one!

Peanut decides not to have a swim!
(the first official public Peanut pic, by the way)

Lord of the Manor

On Saturday, it was a little cooler, and perfect weather, we thought, to do our own little Wine by Cycle Tour. We were going to cycle up to the dam and have a picnic lunch before heading back to the farm to braai for dinner (yes, they cater for all of that!). I, however, forgot to factor in my growing belly - and the fact that there's good reason why pregnant women are not supposed to cycle on an upright bike (well, it's just not possible, really). Andel, on the other hand, forgot to pack in spare tyre tubes. So half way to the dam, he got 2 flats, and we had to walk the bikes back! Thank heaven for the beautiful scenery, fresh air and inviting thoughts of braai dinner that made the walk so much more pleasant!

Breakfast for two - served on our balcony

The long walk/ride back

The perfect end to any day

On Sunday, to wind up a very relaxing weekend, we enjoyed the most decadent 2 hours pamper sessions at the day spa - a mommy-to-be massage (on a preggie massage bed and all!), pedicure and facial, and a destress massage and facial for dad - before taking the scenic drive home.

Savouring the last of the lie-ins

My pedi'd feet

What a great place for a last little getaway before the two of us officially become three. We had such a good time, we may just have to take Peanut back there sometime! :)