Compound fever reaches one year.

Recently the family has reached one whole year of compound life. I can say with all confidence that the grim days of yester-year ie. the first three months have well and truly passed. Days no longer pass in 5 minute blocks, and I am no longer desperate for a kind citizen to drive me to the supermarket (actually quite the opposite - now desperate for kind citizen to shop for me so as to never have to go to supermarket again).

Our baby has her baby posse and many aunties who call out to her wherever she goes. She also has her special aunty and for a baby - the love of a Papuan woman is truly a beautiful thing. Every morning is a reunion of baby and aunty, bound by incredible love and adoration. The love is so strong that it creates a forcefield, one with rays so sharp that all parents are immediately ejected from the zone.

The life of a compound stay-at-homer definitely has its benefits; leisurely morning swims, coffees, lunches, crafting and friends, online shopping, tennis, the chance to be with my kid for such an incredible year of her life, someone to adore the kid while I read fashion magazines upstairs etc etc.

And for the man of the house, he has been lucky enough to have a spouse who explored many different cuisines last year and expanded the cooking horizons of the family. Cooking was pleasurable and fun, made even more so by the challenges of getting ingredients here. But, like many good things - I suspect the cooking run might be coming to an end. Only this week a weary man walked through the door to the shock of some defrosting meat and the simple brief that he had to cook it. I was hanging up my apron and heading to the pool.

So, one year down. Two to go.

Before I depart, some final numbers on the first year of compound life:

Trips to the supermarket: As many as days I have had a car.

Supermarket $$ totals that did not cause me some visible surprise: Zero.

Cases of Dengue Fever: Two.

Bizarre non-serious baby health issues: Two - the spots and that weird boil.

Days I have been thankful for nothing more serious: Every day since Mummy and Daddy-o had Dengue.

Friends made: A lot. We miss them when they or we leave for a breather.

Dinner parties: A lot. What else can you do?

Hangovers: One. Hooray!

Children raised: One. How do people do it again?

Wine consumed: System fail. Cannot compute.

Wacky clothing items purchased: A cupboard full.

Carjackings/etc etc: All clear.

Until next time ....