Fashion faux pas' and funny dreams...

I had a terrible nightmare the other night. I woke with a start, breathless and sweaty with a pounding heart, horrified by what I had just seen in my dream.  Wait for it… I was wearing black jeans with, errghhh, white socks and sneakers! I know, can you believe it? The horror! I would never! How could I dream such a horrendous thing? An outfit such as this would never, I repeat NEVER be worn by me. So why did I dream it?

Dreams are fascinating to me for so many reasons. The fact that our subconscious conjures up stories and images while we sleep peacefully (mostly) seems utterly amazing to me and that there should be hidden messages within these dreams? Even more incredible. I have had a number of dreams that have stood out in my mind over many years, ones that I can recall in a second and still see the visions come to life in my mind. These dreams have given me important messages that I have both listened to and also ignored, perhaps at my own peril. 

One such dream occurred just after I was offered a full time position in a new company, one that I was so excited to be involved with. However I had my own business to run (Ciao Meow) and while I didn’t mind working as an independent contractor, I had sworn to myself never to be an employee again. Yet I felt torn as the position seemed so exciting with an enticing pay to go with it. Unable to make a decision, I dreamt I was working full time again and I HATED it with a passion! And the suffocating feeling of being trapped and smothered woke me in terror. Alas, I ignored the dream and took the position anyway. It was a disaster! Stressful does not even come close to describing my time there and devastatingly, friendships were lost. I feel terribly sad about this and often wonder if, had I listened to the important message in my dream, would it have all turned out differently? Hmmm.

Another pivotal vision that I will always remember was a dream I had a few months before meeting lovely J. In this dream, a tall dark handsome man (looking rather like Eric Bana) whom I knew I loved inextricably (as if you wouldn’t if he looked like Mr Bana!), proposed to me with a ring of Tigers Eye (this is a type of gem stone, one which I’ve never personally worn). When I looked at this man in my dream, I felt truly loved and I could see a beautiful family, which is exactly what I wanted for my future. When I woke I remember thinking how strange, why on earth would someone propose with a ring of Tigers Eye? It didn’t make sense. A few months later, I met tall dark handsome J and we became instant friends. One night when we were out together, I noticed he had a necklace on (not normally my style!)… as I took a closer look I noticed it was a gemstone. I honestly felt my heart stop beating as I asked him if that was Tigers Eye. His answer of course, was yes. This time I listened to my dream!

So what about this recent dream with my hideous fashion faux pas? Well I think there are 2 messages – firstly a reflection of how stuck my wardrobe is right now (c’mon, you know important this is to me!). I love clothes, always have, yet at present I have to admit to feeling very stagnant and out of touch with my beloved world of fashion. I wear jeans and Tee’s with connies pretty much every day (though since the dream I have been parading round in a cute pair of leopard print ballet flats to rid my mind of the sneakers-with-white-socks vision!). It’s a fashion conundrum that I have been fighting with for nearly a year now (since becoming a mum) and one that I have not yet resolved.

Which brings me to the second, probably more important message – that it has been nearly a year now and the stirrings of creativity have become stronger and stronger over the last few months. They are screaming to be let out because they have essentially spent nearly 12 months on the shelf while I first adjusted then embraced my new role as mum, which is a role focused almost entirely on nurturing others and the essentials of every day living and caring for family. It doesn’t leave much time for personal creative time! Actually sleep deprivation pretty much robs you of all desire and ability to be creative anyway, so there was really no point in worrying about it until I felt half human again. Which I am pleased to say that I do! Feel human again, that is. So while I am thoroughly enjoying my creative time blogging, I am feeling the need to amp it up a notch. If I don’t listen to my dream, I may very well find myself shopping for socks and sneakers! So stay tuned, I’ll keep you posted, as I shall be listening to the message this time – I have learnt my lesson on that front!

A trip down memory lane...

I went to Brisbane on the weekend and visited my old suburb of Paddington. Oh my love, how I’ve missed you. The intoxicating smell of freshly ground coffee wafting from café’s, the lure of the tiny boutiques selling everything I must have, the voyeurism of people watching and the excitement of the new – new boutiques, new antique store (LOVE IT!), new cafés – there’s always something new and fabulous. And oh how I enjoyed my life there – weekends were simply mine, all mine to enjoy!!! Waking up late, meandering down to my favourite café’s for latte’s and croissants (my naughty addiction) with a delicious bout of shopping on the return trip home followed by lazily reading my favourite fashion mags in the afternoon. Night time often brought walks up to the Barracks for a movie and a bite to eat or dinner with friends round the corner.

 Lazing about at our old house in Paddo

So I was thoroughly excited to be heading back to re-visit my old stomping ground and catch up with old friends – it was all planned out (not by me of course, being the non-planner!) with friends booked in, shop-openings to attend and coffees to be lingered over and enjoyed. Yipppeee! But alas life with a baby never goes to plan (see this is why I’m a non-planner – what’s the point???) and after a sleepless night on Friday night I realize Lilybelle is coming down with something. After that, nothing goes right.

I won’t bore you with the details, let’s just say my longed for weekend away was a nightmare. Not all was lost – I did get to catch up with friends, though briefly, including my old friend Paddington and it made me miss a life now gone.  Don’t get me wrong, I adore being a mum and I LOVE my precious baby girl – however I would by lying if I didn’t admit to wishing for some more time of my own and just occasionally being responsible only for myself. Oh and double income – when I could spend whatever I liked on whatever I wanted! Suppressing my shopping instinct (yes, it’s an instinct and part of who I am, I swear it!!!!) is just unnatural.

So by the time we left Sunday afternoon, I was feeling rather low – missing my friends and my old life on top of no sleep, a sick bub and a sick dad (that’s another story entirely) – and even questioning whether our move to the coast was the right one. Finally, with gritty eyes blearily fighting to stay open, we turn off at our exit and drive the last leg home. That’s when I notice the trees, the green spaces that you just don’t get in the city, the lack of traffic, the salt in the air and then the ocean, glittering blue and endless. And I realise, we did make the right decision – this is where our life is now, together, with our daughter, by the beach. And I’m happy again.

A family picnic - how relaxing, right?

Ahhh, the sun is shining, the breeze is gently rustling the leaves and the water’s edge beckons… it’s the perfect day for a picnic. And what’s more relaxing then spending the day by the river with your partner, baby and dog?  Well, let me share…

It’s more in the getting to the picnic that I’d like to share here… just a little glimpse into my Sunday. It’s beautiful out and J has the day off, so we decide it’s time to get out in that sunshine and go for some fish and chips. Cool, let’s get organised – first, bubba. We have a small window of time between Lily waking from her nap and the time for her next nap, about 3 hours, so time is of the essence here people!

Man, how much crap can you really need for one child, I ask you? And don’t get me started on all the things one must do before stepping out the door! Let me give you the brief version – breastfeed bub (she’s just getting her first 2 teeth and I am a tad nervous), change nappy, choose outfit (she is very picky), get dressed, put shoes on (this job alone needs at least half an hour), give something to munch on to entertain whilst mum and dad run madly around the house getting ready.

Then there is the packing of the nappy bag – nappies, wipes, hat, sunscreen – damn, where the hell is the sunscreen??? Did you have it? Ooops, don’t worry, here it is! – toys, vom-rag.  Done. Shit, don’t forget food! Ok, riffling through fridge, what can we feed bub? An assortment of fruit, organic baby food, bubba biscuits and water bottle are jammed into the food bag. Done. Who forgot the frickin bib???

Packing the car – shit, why is only one set of keys working?? Go outside to check second set, Henry (the dog) gets over-excited at the sound of keys rattling and gets his leg caught up in the outdoor bench to horrific howling. I rush over to unhook his leg only to get peed on. Shit! No, I mean piss! Yes, you heard me, piss. And not just on me, on the keys too (you know you’re not meant to get them wet right? Eww.) Gross, more time wasted on me having to remove dog spraying.

Ok, back to packing the car – pram, nappy bag, picnic rugs, camera, my bag, J’s man-bag, food bag, baby, dog. Done.  I go to lock the house and can’t find the keys. Damn it!!!!! Who had them last? Crap, I did – last time I saw them was just before the dog peeing incident. I spend 10 minutes retracing my steps through the house, under the papers, on the table, in the kitchen, CRAAAAPPP! Ok, back outside again to the scene of the crime – aha! I must have flung them in the air in shock when the pee hit me. Found them in the grass.

Finally, lock the door, get in the car, cranky and looking at the time – yes it took us an hour to get ready. Damn it, we are one hour down on our 3 hour time window and both shitty (well I’m more pissy actually). As we look at each other in irritation, we finally crack up and laugh. Jeezus. Luckily the day remained perfect, the fish and chips were delicious, the gelati even more so and Henry & Lilybelle loved their frolic by the river. Another glorious day with the fam!

 Lily & the pee culprit by the river

Doing things your own way

So I recently became engaged… yes, I know, very exciting :o) Now that the initial excitement has worn off, I have come to realize that perhaps there is a good reason why there is a traditional order of sequence to these kind of things. You know, you meet, you date, he pops the question, you get married and then along come the babies.  Being non-traditionalists, we of course had to buck the system – meet, move in, have a baby, get engaged and at some stage in the future, get married. Doing things a little differently is all well and good, however becoming a parent, whilst a truly wonderful experience, does comes with its fair share of challenges, particularly on your relationship. Not because you love each other any less, but because you’re suddenly tired all the time, you’re both learning how to look after and raise a baby together and two sets of family values come into play. Gritting your teeth can quickly become a daily jaw exercise.

This does not always make for a peaceful household (I say that with love in my heart sweetie :o), which is why I believe following the order (as listed above) may well be somewhat easier, mostly because you’ve not yet seen each other at your worst - aka tired zombie crankerton who occasionally has hysterical outbursts “who left - the washing in the machine/the milk out/the dishes in the sink” – feel free to insert your own words here! AND before bubs come along you have all the time in the world for romance because it’s still all about the two of you. Life does not yet revolve around a third person, which can make it extremely difficult to find time for just the two of you, let alone get romantic.

I take it as a testament to our solid relationship and deep love for each other that in the middle of this new parent craziness, my partner decided he wanted to marry me, and I him.  Of course there are moments when I’m sure we both think jeezus, what am I getting myself into, however I love the fact that in doing things the non-traditional way, we have also discovered the strength of our love for each other. We also have the most delightful symbol of our love – a daughter, who makes us laugh and look at each other in absolute wonder – wonder in that as a couple, we had a part in creating such an amazing little person. Wow, here's to doing things your own way.

 Awww, my happy family

Uh-oh, I baked… you've been warned!

The discovery that I have been baking is generally met with about the same enthusiasm as the discovery that one needs a root-canal – mostly dread and trepidation. Oh and a pain in the mouth! That’s fine, I’m the first to admit that I’m not a natural baker. However embracing my role as full time mum, I feel it’s time to step up and don the apron, so to speak.

It seems my problem is in following recipes. I can’t. It’s not that I can’t read and follow simple instructions; it’s that I don’t want to - mostly because I’ve just read how many cups of sugar are actually in a batch of cupcakes/cookies/fudge! Ignorance is such a nice place to be at times, but alas, once I’ve discovered the truth, it’s hard to continue on with the recipe as is. There in lies my problem. Personally, I like to see it more as my creativity and pro-activeness towards living a healthier lifestyle, but it seems my pasty chef partner would disagree. You see, I then feel obliged to find a healthier alternative to the ingredient that I have taken exception to, be it sugar, white flour, 3 blocks of melted chocolate. You get the idea.

This is when things start to get a little, ahem, off the beater's track, shall we say. Apparently with baking, you need to be precise (and bloody perfect) and that is just not my style (the precise bit, not the perfect bit :o). See the thing is, not only do I swap ingredients from the naughty list for healthier options (or simply halve the amounts), but I often start to make something without first checking the pantry for what I'll need, only to discover half way through I’m missing 4 key ingredients. Silly of me, I know, however I do this because baking is rarely a premeditated task (why would I subject my family to such pain), but instead more of a spur of the moment decision that often leaves me cursing into the pantry (and others running for cover).

But I’m a positive person so I try and make do and let my creativity run riot. I liken my baking style to my approach to life – I tend to jump headfirst into things, I’m not much of a planner - I’m more of a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kinda girl (if you don’t get the movie reference, shame on you!), I don’t much like being told what to do and I think I’m pretty pro-active when it comes to leading a healthy, more sustainable lifestyle. While these qualities can be seen as positive in life (well geez, I like to think so), sadly, the end result of my baking is not always so.

Today I baked gluten free Coconut Cupcakes – the recipe wasn’t for gluten free, but true to style, I swapped half the ingredients for healthier options and for what I actually had in the pantry. The end result is, hmmm, how shall I describe it? Um, perhaps Coconut Rockcakes would be a more accurate description. And being a waste not, want not type of gal, I’ll have to force someone to eat them. Sadly for my yoga-mums group, it will be their unfortunate fate this week! But hey, they’re healthy and you can feel good eating them knowing that they won’t rot your teeth and you can avoid that root-canal. That’s gotta make you happy!

 Yum, my coconut rockcakes - they won't rot your teeth, but they may break them!

Goodbye Ciao Meow... hello mum-mum

Well it’s official – Ciao Meow has closed up shop and is online no more. Meow. Yes I’m feeling a little sad, however it’s time - I'm ready to close that chapter. Funny how things happen… Ciao Meow had been my sole focus for so long that while I was pregnant, all I could think about was how I would fit a baby in around it. Then a beautiful baby girl arrived and suddenly I was wondering how could I fit Ciao Meow in around my baby! My perspective and priorities changed in such a drastic and unexpected way that it literally left me floundering in limbo – unable to make a decision either way about what direction to take. 

So it feels great to finally make the decision to move on. Apart from not having the time to really dedicate to the business (particularly in a tough retail economy), one of the deciding factors was that I suddenly felt very disconnected from my own business. Ciao Meow was all about gorgeous designer fashion, silk cami’s and perfect little dresses for every occasion. Which was a pretty perfect reflection of my previous life as both a single and then later attached woman in her 20’s and the fabulous social life that went with it – Friday night cocktails, brunch with the girls on Saturday, shopping trips, dinner dates and trips to the movies any time I felt like it. Ahhh the freedom!

My life is now very different - silk anything is well and truly out the window, as is party dresses and well, actually dresses in general. They just don’t cut it when it comes to crawling round on the floor with babies or bending over prams in public (I'm really not into showing random strangers my knickers). Plus sticky pumpkin fingers and gooey, half chewed rusks mean anything that needs to be hand-washed or dry cleaned is well and truly on the out. This new wardrobe reality has given me incredible insight (and frustration at times) - I've realised that a key part of letting go of Ciao Meow was in letting go of the past and fully embracing the present, which is my new life as a mum. 

 Silk party dresses don't really go with my new social life :o)

So while there are moments when I think longingly of frocking up and going for cocktails, these moments now seem few and far between in comparison to the many special moments with my little girl – her big wide smiles, her funny little chuckles, that tiny little voice calling out “mum-mum” and her arms stretching out to cuddle me – these are the moments I cherish every day and fill me with a level of happiness that literally leaves me speechless. 

So thank you and goodbye Ciao Meow – you were a wonderful chapter of my life – at times challenging, but also fun, full of personal growth and great times – I let you go with love in my heart. 

And I embrace my new life with open arms - I can hear a little voice calling mum-mum – I’m off for some cuddles…

Where have I been? Trying to sleep, that's where!

The universe sure knows how to show you some perspective in life. Little Lily had just passed the 6 month mark when she started waking 2-3 times a night again (that’s up from either sleeping through or waking once a night, which I had become very comfortable with thank you very much!). “What is going on?” I asked her numerous times – she'd just look at me with those big eyes and impish grin. I figured it was just a growth spurt and that was fine, I knew it wouldn’t last. But once we passed 2 months of this, I was seriously cranky and tired. Or so I thought…

Then the poor little cherub got a cold – nothing too major, just your average cold with runny nose, congestion, coughing and generally feeling a tad miserable. This is when 'tired' was redefined for me! Holy cow, poor little miss started waking CONSTANTLY throughout the night and I mean CONSTANTLY. I’d put her down, 10 minutes later, she’d be up again coughing and spluttering and this was repeated over and over again. Poor darling, I felt so sorry for her but the sleep, or lack there of, was doing my head in. We ended up sleeping semi reclined together for about a week and then back to her cot for the second week, though the waking constantly continued. Finally we are back to waking 2-3 times a night, which is now fine by me!

Perspective is a funny thing - what felt challenging before, now feels like a holiday after my dose of sleep deprivation. What I discovered is that sleep deprivation really is a form of torture! Derr, how many times have I heard that and not really understood the full meaning? The Nicky I know simply disappeared and in her place appeared a hollow-eyed ghost with a serious temper. It’s not that I was cranky at Lilybelle, it’s just that there was no buffer anymore – that buffer that allows you to bounce back easily, smile with endless patience (mostly :), maintains your good humour and keeps you on the good side of optimism – it just disappeared about 3 nights in. Suddenly I was walking around like a zombie, feeling over emotional, accident prone, unable to finish sentences, losing my train of thought and feeling like a big stinky bear with a really sore head! Not fun for anyone, as my dear partner will confirm.

So what have I learnt from this experience? Well, apart from hiring a humidifier next time (hot tip from other mums who have been through this – thanks Kel and Jodes), I have learnt to just bloody appreciate what I have right here and right now!  Because nothing ever stays the same and life can change in an instant – for better OR worse. And those tough times sure make me appreciate what I have and how blessed I am.  And the universe will ALWAYS find a way to remind me of this.

 Well into my hollow-eyed zombiedom!