If I came to your house today

I would see the normal mess of family life

Dear new mum,

I can see from your tired eyes that you haven’t had much sleep so please don’t frantically tidy the house before I arrive.

I know there is dirty nappies sitting by the door, a cluttered bedside table with all-the-things, breast pads that have fallen from your bra like milk-soaked moons. When I walk into the kitchen I expect to see a sink full of dirty dishes and I have no doubt that the washing basket is overflowing. Perhaps you’re still in your pyjamas and what you really need is a hot coffee from your favourite cafe that you can sip while contemplating just how tired you are. Banana bread is good, too. Or an almond friand - preferably warmed.

You also really want a long, hot shower but you can’t figure out why you hear your baby crying as soon as you turn on the tap. These phantom cries are normal and are likely because you’ve got a heightened awareness to sound, specifically your baby’s sounds. Your brain changed in pregnancy to prepare for parenthood and now you’re hardwired (quite literally, you have new neural connections) to be aware of your baby above anything else. This ensures their survival but it can also be a bit confronting, especially if you’re used to being a quick-thinking, list-ticking, get it done yesterday type of person.

All you hear is your baby; even when they’re not crying you’re listening to their soft exhales. It’s why focussed conversations are so hard to follow, because your brain is tuned into your baby at all hours - coo, sigh, gurgle, gulp, breath.

Pregnancy and postpartum changes you. It changes your house, too. And this is something we don’t really talk about because while we anticipate the small clothes, the bouncer, the nappy change table with the lotions and cloths, we also think it will be somewhat easy to keep a house tidy. How much mess can a newborn make?

Well, as I used to say to my prenatal yoga students, you now do one load of washing a day - minimum. The first-time mums always looked at me quizzically.

The mess of life and living grows with each baby and you’ll find that your resolve to reach interior perfection quickly fades. You learn that you’ll never get everything done before it needs doing again. And it’s helpful to remember the Zen buddhist proverb: before englightment chop wood, carry water. After enlightenment, chop wood, carry water. Wherever you are, there is the unavoidable work of family life which no doubt includes many odd socks.

I really believe that motherhood is defined by odd socks. In the beginning, those socks are tiny and easily misplaced down the side of the couch or in the dark recess of the clothes dryer or perhaps on the footpath on your afternoon walk. These socks, you think, where could they be? And you will ask that question for as long as your child is living with you¹.

The more children you have, the more you will be dumbfounded by the sheer number of socks, the mismatched pairs, the fact that you can do multiple loads of washing a day and sometimes there’s still no clean socks. Of course, if you live in a tropical climate this isn’t such a big deal but for everyone else, it is a daily conundrum.

It also proves what we all come to learn: parenthood is messy. And early parenthood is a particularly messy season where you can often feel like you’re constantly playing catch-up. So much stuff! So much milk! So much vomit!

So today, when you’re dashing from the sink to the bassinet to the laundry to the bathroom, and you feel a slight dragging sensation in your pelvic floor, or your lower back aches or you’re so tired that you just want to rest, I want you to do one thing: listen to your body.

If your baby is one week old your body is healing.

If your baby is one month old your body is healing.

If your baby is six months old your body is healing.

Your body is still healing when your baby turns one, and sometimes when they turn two.

Remember: no one is judging your worth as a mother against the tidyness of your house. This isn’t a thing. But you will move more easily through your days with a body that is given adequate time to rest and recover.

I understand that it can weigh heavily on your mind and that it’s hard to see beyond the mess when you’re sitting in the midst of it. There is one thing you can do today to relieve this overwhelm: step outside.

Because when you’re outside, the house can’t get any messier than it already is. Of course you need to take the nappy bag with two of everything packed inside and that’s okay, because right now it’s your life jacket and whatever makes you feel safe and prepared is a good thing. There may be days when outside feels too much, because you’d rather have everything on hand at home and be close to the bathroom and that’s okay, too. But when you can, step outside where you can focus solely on yourself and your baby and not be distracted or disheartened by all the things you aren’t doing around the home.

When you step back inside, I want you to repeat one thing: family life is messy, it’s just the way it is. My worth is not measured by the tidyness of my home.

Till next time, take care x

PS. I wrote about my love of libraries for The Guardian last week and discussed how vital they’ve been in all stages of motherhood.

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do you have a question you’d like answered?

If you’re new here, I’m Jodi - a mother of four, postpartum doula and bestselling author of three books, including Practising Simplicity (the story of the 2.5 years my family spent travelling in a caravan) and Australia’s #1 pregnancy and birth book - The Complete Australian Guide to Pregnancy and Birth. I’ve been working on my third book - The Complete Guide to Postpartum - for two years (it publishes July 2025) so while I’m well out of the baby stage as a mother, I’ve been immersed in it as a researcher and writer.

I’m wondering if you have a question you want me to answer? Anything at all! You can write it in the comments or if you received this letter in your inbox, just hit reply and send it to me that way. I’ll keep the questions anonymous and will answer them over the coming weeks and months.

1. for my teenager’s recent birthday, I gave him eight pair of socks with defining features. It has taken me 17 years to learn that it’s much easier to sort socks if they have obvious pairs. See, we are always learning. No, he was not impressed by said socks. But as I reminded him, if I have to listen to him complain about his lack of socks every morning at 6:30am, I will definitely file ‘socks’ under ‘practical birthday gift’. You may think ‘seventeen feels like a lifetime away’ and you’re probably right. And then it arrives and you have to close your eyes so tight to remember the smallness, the innocence, the first words and the reaching hands. Motherhood, I’ve discovered, is a seesaw of awe and grief where you’re constantly learning to let go.