Leja, my first (and to date, only) baby was born at the end of 2014. Recently we celebrated 500 days with her (of course, not counting the, what felt like, 2000 days in my tummy). Truly, it has been 500 days of summer (with a few thunder showers here and there, typical of summer).

My parents stay with us in Cape Town, and it is such a blessing to have them around. Yes, instant babysitters when we need them, but more importantly, and precious, to see the relationship between grandchild and grandparent bloom every day. To see the love between them – it is just magic.

When I see Ouma and Leja jiving around, I cannot help to ponder what my mum was like when I was a baby. When she was just Mum (and not Ouma). Did she have the same type of relationship with me as she does with my little girl? Did it differ a lot? Was she as nervous and clueless like I was in the beginning? Did her mum also gave her advice all the time? Did she welcome it?

Ouma is a natural. She tells Leja everything – they are forever chatting away. Sometimes when I eavesdrop, I hear glimpses of ‘Elvis Presley’, ‘your uncle and your mommy’, ‘Skapie is a very happy little sheep’, ‘and her name was Ingrid Jonker’, ‘yes sir, yes sir, three bags full’ and once even ‘Zuma’s name is Jacob’! Mum (well, now she is called Ouma and klaar) showed me how to burp a baby and change a diaper – although APPARENTLY I have it so much easier with the disposable nappies of today.

"In my time", she would start, "we didn’t have it easy like that, we had to make do with horrible buckets filled with soiled cloth nappies". Steri-nappies. "Steeeeri-napppieee", she would reiterate with resounding trumpets of doom, reminiscent of a horror movie or such. No wet-wipes either. Or squishies on the go (oh the heaven of the easy fruit slushie). Or instant formula mixed by the flick of a wrist. Oooh, and the crazy notion of buying freshly-prepared home-made baby food at a supermarket! The convenience of it all.

But this begs the question – do we truly have it easier than our counterparts of the previous generation? We have these conveniences at our fingertips, yes. But. I had to go back to work when my baby wasn’t even three months old. The utter heartbreak of it. And the guilt I felt – reading online about how bad it is for your child’s development if you ‘desert’ her every day. Until the age of two (or three?) your child should be with you basically all the time. Or so I read. If you send your child to daycare before that, she would be emotionally scarred (ad infinitum – until I couldn’t sleep at night anymore! Cue postpartum depression rearing its ugly head – but that is a column for another day).

My mum could actually stay at home, and take care of her children. She could take late-morning naps with her babies. She had the time to prepare a proper lunch and dinner. As mums, our worlds differ. Each with its own challenges. No Google for her to quickly check what is a normal temperature for baby, or what those red spots mean. Or that the strange bump on Leja’s abdomen is called diastasis recti and is nothing to worry about at all, it’ll disappear with time, no need to phone the paediatrician at 11 at night. Or having to find a new paediatrician in the morning. Maybe the only thing that is really important is to remember the things that DO stay the same. That every mum tries to be the best mum she can be. That she is doing her best in the circumstances she finds herself in. And that the love she has for the baby in her arms surpasses any measurable distance or depth. And although Ouma LOVES disposable nappies, she uses to this day only a warm dampened cloth to clean Leja’s bum. Wet-wipes discarded to the side, banished from ever being used by her – ‘cause truly, how can it POSSIBLY clean properly when it is so cold to the touch? - Jana Cloete