Eva Bradley has a new look on life now she is a mother.
This summer a "zero tolerance" on speed has ruffled the feathers of many people. What's wrong with one or two more kilometres an hour when you're already travelling at 50 or 100, right?
In my home patch a decision to lower the speed on some rural roads from 100 to 80km/h caused so much controversy the council was forced to do a U-turn.
If there is one thing people sure don't like it is being told to slow down. And I'm no exception.
So imagine the adjustment it has taken not just to slow down to the speed limit, but wind right back to 5km/h. That's roughly the distance a regular Joe like me covers at walking speed.
For five months now, I've been beating the streets at that pace, and for long, long, long periods of time.
Walking with a pram is something every parent can relate to. It is slow, yes, but it's without doubt the fastest way to get a grizzly baby off to sleep.
And so I walk. And walk. And walk.
At first the pace was frustratingly slow. As I rounded the block for a third time, constantly checking to see if my efforts had produced the intended result of a sleeping baby, I couldn't help but think about all the other things I could have achieved in this time, which somehow seemed a little wasted even though it was part of the most important job I'd ever had.
I'm one of those people who always has one more ball in the air than is ideal and the result is a heavy foot when I'm driving and a tendency to operate in overdrive at all times, multi-tasking wherever possible.
Walking just doesn't fit with my personality.
Or so I thought.
Since slowing my pace down, I have discovered a whole new world out there that couldn't be seen at speed.
For a start, I never knew how many cats like to sit at the entrance to their driveways on dusk. As I circle the block each night, I've come to be on nodding terms with all the local feline population, who once ran away from the approaching pram but now hold their ground and watch me pass as the light fades.
I've discovered which dogs bark and wake the baby, and which ones like to touch noses with my own fur baby (who is loving life with a younger brother purely because of all the walks she now gets).
I have learned who in the neighbourhood takes pride in their garden and who doesn't. Heck, I've discovered I have a neighbourhood. Previously the only exercise I got was walking to my car in the driveway, and I never had any reason to walk the streets where I live and say hello to my neighbours.
The irony of my new life burning through a pair of running shoes every couple of months is that while life has got incredibly busy because I am now multi-tasking in a way I never thought possible, in some ways it has slowed down completely. Normally it takes a concentrated hour to pen my missive to you each week, readers.
Today I'm five hours in and am about to sign off having managed not only a column, but a couple of feeds, a load of washing, a bunch of emails to brides, a play date with some of Edward's baby buddies and a morning and midday sleep - the first while doing my usual route, pushing the pram.
It has been the usual busy morning but made peaceful by my time walking the streets in a way that has nothing at all to do with a destination but rather is the journey of my life.