Uploaded May 2024 | Updated September 2026, 1 week ago
Baby steps – becoming a first-time parent
By Sally Blundell of Frank Film
Cot, wahakura, bassinet, nappies, baby clothes. In two different homes in two different parts of Christchurch, first-time mothers-to-be Jadah Aramoana Coffin (Tūhoe/Ngāti Awa, 20) and Hannah Baker (25) have worked through the required checklist in preparation for their new baby.
But what comes next cannot be bought or borrowed.
“I don’t think it’s that complicated really,” says parenting expert and educator Nathan Wallis (Ngāti Kahu ki Whangāroa). “In that first year of life, your baby is the centre of the entire universe, and you are their slave.”
But it takes a village, he says, to support that one person, that “slave”, so they can provide that vital intimate relationship with this tiny, yawning, sleeping, feeding bundle of humanity.
Where in the past, parenting advice tended to focus on sleep, feeding and bowel movements – a hangover from a time when infant mortality was high – now, he says, the most pressing issue is “probably attachment disorders”.
“Especially in that first year of life, the more often your baby feels they’re in partnership with you, probably the brainier they’ll be, the more resilient they’ll be, the more fun they’ll be, the better their quality of life will be.
“If you’re raised without that intimacy you tend to be more prone to fear, to be more reactive, you’ve got to look after yourself and you don’t get the opportunity to develop the reciprocal, loving, caring, empathetic stuff that you get in the context of a high quality relationship. There’s probably nothing in your life that has a profound a difference as whether you experience that intimacy as a baby or not.”
The village notion is largely gone – only about 20% of New Zealanders live in the same place as our parents and grandparents – but in supporting young mothers, says Wallis, “I think we now have more a family of affiliations.”
Coffin will be raising her first born within a three-generation household.
“Everyone’s involved and want to be around to help with the pēpi – and looking after the mama,” says Coffin’s mother, Karla.
On the other side of Christchurch, Baker will be sharing the care of her firstborn with her partner Elliot Dowie.
“Even as a little kid I wanted to make sure that whoever I marry and have children with, he’s very hands on. It’s a 50/50 game now.”
Related or not, that “family of affiliations” allows the mother to focus on that vital one on one relationship with the baby.
“Because you’re not necessarily born with all those skills to know how to look after a baby, how to attach to a baby, how to respond to a baby, how to meet their needs,” says Wallis.
That foundational relationship also gives the baby a sense of predictability.
“When you can predict what’s going to happen, that calms the lower brain, the survival parts of the brain. When you calm the survival brain, then you're bringing to light the front cortex, all the good stuff in human development – language, literacy, numeracy but also empathy, to understand consequences, to understand the impact of your actions on others. But if a baby’s fearful, then you're not evolving that.”
It is not until about nine months old, that a baby will recognise themselves as a separate person. With that, says Wallis, comes the fear that the parent is going to leave. “And then they cling and you get this separation anxiety for a few weeks. Parents will notice it – it’s when you can’t go to the toilet without leaving the toilet door open.”
Wallis’ advice – just go with it.
“Take them to the bloody toilet with you. If you go, oh no, I don’t want a wussy kid, let’s harden him up, then you just confirm to them that you are going to abandon them. So it makes it way worse.”
Now, just days after giving birth, two new first-time mothers are absorbed in the everyday wonder of a new life.
Baker strokes the downy cheek of her new son, Arthur. “Milk’s flowing,” says Dowie. “He’s happy, she’s happy.”
Coffin gazes at her new son Te Awanuiārangi. That’s why she’s so tired, says her mother. “When he sleeps, she just sits there and stares at him.”
Credits:
Producer/Director/Cameraman/Interviewer: Gerard Smyth
Writer/Researcher: Sally Blundell
Editor: Tracey Jury
Online Editor: Oliver Dawe
Second Camera/Researcher: Ellie Adams
Line Producer: Erina Ellis
Production Manager: Jo Ffitch
Sound Design/Mix: Chris Sinclair
Attributions:
Sylvia Stewart
Tumanako Stone-Howard
Jadah Aramoana Tahi Coffin
Karla Coffin
Hannah Baxter
Elliot Dowie
Nathan Wallis
Baby steps – becoming a first-time parent
By Sally Blundell of Frank Film
Cot, wahakura, bassinet, nappies, baby clothes. In two different homes in two different parts of Christchurch, first-time mothers-to-be Jadah Aramoana Coffin (Tūhoe/Ngāti Awa, 20) and Hannah Baker (25) have worked through the required checklist in preparation for their new baby.
But what comes next cannot be bought or borrowed.
“I don’t think it’s that complicated really,” says parenting expert and educator Nathan Wallis (Ngāti Kahu ki Whangāroa). “In that first year of life, your baby is the centre of the entire universe, and you are their slave.”
But it takes a village, he says, to support that one person, that “slave”, so they can provide that vital intimate relationship with this tiny, yawning, sleeping, feeding bundle of humanity.
Where in the past, parenting advice tended to focus on sleep, feeding and bowel movements – a hangover from a time when infant mortality was high – now, he says, the most pressing issue is “probably attachment disorders”.
“Especially in that first year of life, the more often your baby feels they’re in partnership with you, probably the brainier they’ll be, the more resilient they’ll be, the more fun they’ll be, the better their quality of life will be.
“If you’re raised without that intimacy you tend to be more prone to fear, to be more reactive, you’ve got to look after yourself and you don’t get the opportunity to develop the reciprocal, loving, caring, empathetic stuff that you get in the context of a high quality relationship. There’s probably nothing in your life that has a profound a difference as whether you experience that intimacy as a baby or not.”
The village notion is largely gone – only about 20% of New Zealanders live in the same place as our parents and grandparents – but in supporting young mothers, says Wallis, “I think we now have more a family of affiliations.”
Coffin will be raising her first born within a three-generation household.
“Everyone’s involved and want to be around to help with the pēpi – and looking after the mama,” says Coffin’s mother, Karla.
On the other side of Christchurch, Baker will be sharing the care of her firstborn with her partner Elliot Dowie.
“Even as a little kid I wanted to make sure that whoever I marry and have children with, he’s very hands on. It’s a 50/50 game now.”
Related or not, that “family of affiliations” allows the mother to focus on that vital one on one relationship with the baby.
“Because you’re not necessarily born with all those skills to know how to look after a baby, how to attach to a baby, how to respond to a baby, how to meet their needs,” says Wallis.
That foundational relationship also gives the baby a sense of predictability.
“When you can predict what’s going to happen, that calms the lower brain, the survival parts of the brain. When you calm the survival brain, then you're bringing to light the front cortex, all the good stuff in human development – language, literacy, numeracy but also empathy, to understand consequences, to understand the impact of your actions on others. But if a baby’s fearful, then you're not evolving that.”
It is not until about nine months old, that a baby will recognise themselves as a separate person. With that, says Wallis, comes the fear that the parent is going to leave. “And then they cling and you get this separation anxiety for a few weeks. Parents will notice it – it’s when you can’t go to the toilet without leaving the toilet door open.”
Wallis’ advice – just go with it.
“Take them to the bloody toilet with you. If you go, oh no, I don’t want a wussy kid, let’s harden him up, then you just confirm to them that you are going to abandon them. So it makes it way worse.”
Now, just days after giving birth, two new first-time mothers are absorbed in the everyday wonder of a new life.
Baker strokes the downy cheek of her new son, Arthur. “Milk’s flowing,” says Dowie. “He’s happy, she’s happy.”
Coffin gazes at her new son Te Awanuiārangi. That’s why she’s so tired, says her mother. “When he sleeps, she just sits there and stares at him.”
Credits:
Producer/Director/Cameraman/Interviewer: Gerard Smyth
Writer/Researcher: Sally Blundell
Editor: Tracey Jury
Online Editor: Oliver Dawe
Second Camera/Researcher: Ellie Adams
Line Producer: Erina Ellis
Production Manager: Jo Ffitch
Sound Design/Mix: Chris Sinclair
Attributions:
Sylvia Stewart
Tumanako Stone-Howard
Jadah Aramoana Tahi Coffin
Karla Coffin
Hannah Baxter
Elliot Dowie
Nathan Wallis


![Can strong wool make a comeback?
Once upon a time, strong wool was a moneymaker for New Zealand. It was the golden fleece, with farmers rumoured to have paid off their mortgages in one wool clip during the boom of the ‘50s. Retired fourth generation sheep farmer Murray Urquhart remembers family tales from the notorious boom. “My uncle was the biggest single tax payer in Canterbury for three years in a row,” Murray tells Frank Film, and explains that this was mostly because of the US Army needing to keep their soldiers warm during the Korean War.
These days, though, it’s costing many farmers more to shear their strong wool sheep than they can get back for the wool itself. As Highfield Station farmer Michael Northcote points out, wool has almost become a by-product of meat - a nuisance, even. “Because there’s just no money in it,” Michael says. “It costs us $9.30 per sheep to shear them, and we’d probably end up getting about $8 to $9 worth of wool.”
Today, it’s only the wool from our Merino sheep and other finer wool breeds which are fetching farmers a decent price. These breeds, with their thinner, softer fibres, make up only a small percentage of the national flock, but contribute to a large part of the market. More on that later, though. The wool Michael is talking about is strong wool - also known as coarse wool, for its thick fibres. Of the 26 million odd sheep in New Zealand, 80% are strong wool sheep. They’re well-suited to most of the country’s climate, and are bred more for their meat than their fleece.
So what happened to the market for strong wool? In short, synthetics. As Hadleigh Smith from The NZ Merino Company explains, plastics took over everything. Strong wool, which is warm, fire resistant, water-repellent and naturally sourced, was squeezed out by a cheaper counterpart. “After the glory days of the 50’s and 60’s, there was a boom in synthetic production, and that material has been used everywhere, from flooring through to fabrics and in clothing,” says Hadleigh, whose role as market development manager for strong wool necessitates an intimate knowledge of its history.
So all this has put strong wool in dire straits. But with demand for natural fibres on the rise, there’s a movement to save it. NZ Merino, among other organisations, is turning its attention to strong wool. This renaissance, as Hadleigh says, may well be similar to the merino success story. “Our Merino growers were really struggling [20 years ago],” he tells Frank Film, explaining that the industry came together to create a higher market value for their product and give farmers more certainty. This was mainly through the production, branding and marketing of high end outdoor clothing, with brands like Icebreaker.
According to Hadleigh, the future of strong wool depends on the same kind of innovation - and it’s a future he firmly believes in. He’s not the only one. Bremworth carpets have switched from synthetics back to 100% wool, which CEO Greg Smith says is in response to increasing consumer demand. “The synthetic carpet that we made doesn’t go away, it just ends up in landfill. That is a problem,” Greg says. ‘Wool’s the best fibre for carpet, it’s as simple as that.”
Others are pushing it further. Inventor and entrepreneur Logan Williams is on a mission to replace plastic with wool. Through his development of strong wool polymers, Logan has been working with NZ Merino to create woollen kayaks, chilly bins and knives. Starting with the humble beginnings of a toastie machine, Logan melted down wool with PLA, a bio-plastic made from cornstarch.
“It looked like a piece of naan bread,” he confesses, but this rough start quickly evolved into the pellets of industrially compostable plastic-like material which he now sells to manufacturers under his company Shear Edge. Meanwhile, Wool Source, a subsidiary of Wool Research NZ, is busy breaking wool down into fine pigments which can be used in lipsticks, shampoos and other cosmetics.
So while the price is still low, there’s no shortage of believers. Michael at Highfield Station is one of many loyal farmers with wool in their blood, and he says he has every confidence that strong wool will come back. “We will stick with it,” Michael says. “It’s a hell of a good product and it’s totally undervalued.”
Join us as we explore what’s to become of New Zealand’s golden fleece. Watch the film at frankfilm.co.nz.
Accreditations
Images:
Alexander Turnbull Library, Wellington, New Zealand (1/2-049602-F. )
Video:
Archives New Zealand Te Rua Mahara o te Kāwanatanga
Material preserved and made available by Ngā Taonga Sound & Vision.
Credits:
Director/Series Producer: Gerard Smyth
Editor: Tracey Jury
Story Producer/Researcher: Georgia Merton
Cameraman: Gerard Smyth & Romah Chorley
Production Manager: Jo Ffitch
Sound Mix: Chris Sinclair
Colour grade: Andrew Todd Can strong wool make a comeback?](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/bhBUZPC1NRM/mqdefault.jpg)







