an aussie in austria

My parents recently visited for the first time since Covid hit back in 2019. So it was an emotional time already, and in addition they were meeting Sam. It was great to have them. To have some help at home. To have some Aussie in the house. And to give me a chance to flex my legs and do a few things I’d been nervous about doing on my own. We went to cafes and supermarkets and the swimming pool… and we also went away.

To be honest I wasn’t sure it was worth it. The packing alone daunted me. And Sam was still on two naps and couldn’t walk. He was too young. It seemed like we were paying a lot of money for a lot of hassle to do a whole lot of nothing. Luckily I had some close friends in my ear to give me encouragement when I wasn’t feeling brave. Because as much as it was to help Sam get used to doing different things, it was more for me. To get out of this (lovely) house that I’ve barely gone more than walking distance away from in a year. To boost my confidence. To remember myself.

I wanted to take this chance because I knew that going away with my parents would be relatively harmonious. They would have similar expectations because they were the ones who had taken me away as a child. It was also a great opportunity to spend some quality time with them.

It took me a long time to find the perfect accommodation: on a lake, walking distance to town, apartment style, at least two bedrooms and plenty of room for the little guy.

So far he’d been great in the car, so I wasn’t prepared for the drive. We left just prior to nap time… and… cue hysterical screaming. My poor Dad in the back seat was trying to distract him and I was doing my best not to be distracted. I was just about to pull into a petrol station to offer the boob when he conked out… for exactly half an hour until he woke up… screaming again. Luckily by this time we were only a few minutes away from our destination.

I’d decided on three nights and had plenty of exciting options for excursions. We could go to the local Castle where there’s a birds of prey exhibition. We could swim in the lake. Or… we could go on lots of walks. Which is what we did. It was the first morning when I decided that this could easily have just been a two night adventure. That was more than enough to experience going away with a baby. It was like going to the pool with a baby on steroids.

Really, it wasn’t that bad. The apartment was lovely and had three bathrooms (that’s one for me, one for my folks and one to keep the bin with the dirty nappies). It was mid-week so things were quiet, and the weather was perfect.

So here’s what I learnt:

A kilometre is a long way from town: with Sam’s wake windows we could barely do more than walk into town and get a coffee before it was time for me to head home for his nap. So I did that 20 minute walk far too many times!

An apartment is the way to go: having our own kitchen, multiple bedrooms with separate bathrooms and plenty of space for a little guy to explore, made it so much easier.

Take the travel cot even if you have a cot supplied: we set the travel cot up in the kitchen and it was a safe space for him to be in near us when we were busy or just needed a break.

Don’t take the travel scrabble… take the full sized version: because you will be stuck at home every evening from 7pm and those tiny letters are hard on your eyes.

Take more toys… and make sure some of those are in the car: I didn’t take enough, thinking Sam would be entertained just by being in a strange place.

Packing tape for the power points: taping over the power points meant no little fingers could go where they shouldn’t

Take all the plastic bags: to double bag those smelly diapers

It was stressful. It was fun. Sam was happy to be out and about. He certainly wasn’t too young. He was delighted to be seeing new things… chuckling away in his signature style anytime something mildly interesting crossed his path… casting his eyes down shyly when a stranger approached to compliment his big brown eyes. It was good for him. And most of all, it was good for me. Because… happy mum… happy son.

Luckily the little guy slept most of the way home and we all enjoyed being back in our own beds. I don’t think I’m going to become a frequent flyer. I don’t want to go again next weekend, but I definitely feel less apprehensive about our next adventure. And importantly, the more we do it, the easier it’ll get.