Being a papa penguin in a new city has taught me more than I ever expected.
When Kai and I first left our cold iceberg and arrived in Melbourne, everything felt large and unfamiliar. The noise of trams, the height of the buildings, and the constant movement of people. I worried whether we had done the right thing swimming so far from home. Would he feel lost? Would the quiet snow he grew up with seem too far away?
What I did not realise at first was how much Kai would teach me in return. 😅
He sees the world with fresh eyes. Where I might hurry past a row of flowers on the footpath, he stops to look closely at each one. In the Carlton Gardens, he will lie on the grass and watch the clouds drift overhead, finding shapes that look like fish or boats or old friends. At first I wanted to keep us moving, to stay on schedule and keep things safe. But Kai has shown me the quiet power of slowing down.
Parenting feels a lot like arriving in any new place.
At the beginning, it can overwhelm you. So many streets you do not yet know, so many small customs to learn. You worry you will make mistakes or miss something important. Yet if you stay open and take each day as it comes, the city, and the experience of raising a child, begins to open up in beautiful ways.
I try to guide Kai with the things I know. How to help in the café, how to speak kindly to customers, how to look after the small home we have made together. But he teaches me something deeper every day: the value of wonder. (づ ՞ਊ ՞ )づ
He finds excitement in ordinary moments. The way butter melts into warm toast. The sound of rain tapping on the café awning. The laughter of a child drawing penguins on our paper placemats.
There is a special kind of awe that arrives when you let yourself become a beginner again. In a new city, and in parenting, we learn to ask gentle questions. We learn to listen more than we speak. We learn that it is alright not to have every answer straight away.
Some days the day gets busy and the hours feel long. I catch myself tightening with worry, wondering if I am doing enough. Kai notices these moments. He will quietly suggest we sit together for a few minutes with something warm to eat. His calmness reminds me that we can only do our best, and that rest between the busy times matters.
Life and love in Melbourne
Seeing Melbourne through his eyes has changed how I move through my own days. I notice the soft glow of shokupan when it comes out of the toaster. I notice how a tired customer’s shoulders relax after the first bite of a well-made sando. I notice the small satisfactions of wiping the counter clean at closing time, knowing we offered a gentle space in a busy world.
The experience of new parenthood carries many of the same feelings as settling into a new city. Both ask us to learn as we go. Both can feel large at first. But both reward us when we stay present and open. When we allow ourselves to feel awe at the simple things, life grows richer without needing to be loud or complicated.
I still have much to learn as a papa penguin. Kai continues to show me that slowing down is not the same as stopping. It means making space to notice. It means letting the world surprise us in small, good ways.
To anyone raising a child, or anyone finding their feet in a new place, I offer this gentle thought: Be patient with yourself. Take small steps. Look around as though you are seeing it for the first time. The overwhelming parts will soften, and the beautiful parts will start to feel like home.
We are still finding our way here, Kai and I, but we are finding it together. That makes every ordinary day feel quietly precious.
With a father’s steady heart,
Atta
Attakai Café