A Day Off

Dear Olive,
I had something like a meltdown at work on Monday. Shane's away for a couple of weeks, you and I both have colds, and a few people I had lined up to help me out with your preschool drop offs and pick ups pulled out. I was struck with the awful realisation that I couldn't do it. I literally couldn't work the silly long hours required by my job, and look after you. So I did what any grown, mature woman in her 30's does; I cried. I asked if I could work reduced hours for the next couple of weeks (for reduced pay), and said I wanted a day off this week. Olive just needs to spend some time with me I told my boss*. But having had the day with you today, it dawned on me what I'd left unsaid: I just need to spend some time with Olive. Because after hanging out for the day and doing normal things like going to a cafe, swimming at the beach, watching you create a god awful mess at home (cleverly disguised as a game); I feel completely restored. Exhausted, yes (why does slowing down make you more tired?), but there is a lovely calmness on the inside that wasn't there on Monday.
Photos from our day: Christmas decorations are up in our local health food store, a morning chai and a date, babycino for you - we always, always joke that it has poo on the top, there was a huge pod of dolphins out there this morning!, you walked home the entire way - barefoot - without whinging once (a record), your favourite lunch a "snack plate" eaten on your bed watching play school snuggled in with Pepper, my favourite lunch (an omelette-frittatery thing with lots of onion, garlic, goats cheese, parsley, tomatoes and avocado), almond meal pikelets for afternoon tea (1 egg, 1 cup almond meal, 1/2 cup coconut cream, 1/2 cup milk, 1 teaspoon of baking powder and a few drops each of vanilla and stevia).

*My boss is a legend, and said no problem. My other boss gave me a hug.

Countdown

Dear Olive,
I am excitedly marking off the days until Christmas. And not just because of what Christmas will bring in terms of it being Christmas (Christmas brings presents, time with family, good food, and going away for our annual mid-north coast summer trip, which is pretty much guaranteed to be glorious and filled with fun times). No, I am counting down the days because Christmas marks the end of my job. I've been working full time on back to back jobs since April. And I'm worn out. My weeks have begun to feel like a relentless, monotonous, impossible juggle. Trying to keep on top of the shopping, cooking, cleaning, juggling kindy drop offs and pick ups with working hours that don't even begin to correspond with daycare opening hours, going to work and performing my job and then coming home and having enough energy to spend meaningful time with you*; I feel stretched beyond my means. But come Christmas, I have no more full time work. Come Christmas, it'll be just you, me, and the beach. (And hopefully a few good books along with some gentle afternoon naps!) And I couldn't be looking forward to it more. 

And for now, the weekend is here, which is a great thing too.

Happy weekend, friends. It's forecast to rain here, and we're going to enjoy a quiet one.

PS I just adore hydrangeas!

*Obviously this load is shared with Shane. But even so - it's enormous!

Finding Our Feet

Dear Olive,
Shane and I are halfway through our contracts, and I think I can say with almost complete confidence that we have really hit our stride with this full time malarky. After the first few rough and exhausting weeks, I didn't know if we'd get here, but we've found a manageable (and, dare I say, enjoyable) rhythm to our weeks. 

I was hoping that I'd love this job, and I do. I'm working with great people and it's excellent to be part of a really fun - and adult - team. One thing that has come as a (really wonderful) surprise, is how I still feel as connected to you as ever. I had my reservations about this before I started. But we've just had to make the time that we do have, count. Most nights, we catch up on the days happenings in a shared bath - it's a terrific way to relax and it's so easy to be right there in the moment with you when there is no dinner/washing up/tv/iphone/general hiding for some alone time calling to me. I sneak in some extra time with you most weeks by having you at work with me for an afternoon or two. And weekends are just plain delightful all round.

What's great out of this, is the realisation that this can work. It's chaotic and it's tricky, but it can work. And it needs to, because, well, it's life.

Tuesday afternoon when I picked you up from preschool, I told you that I was taking you into work with me for a while. 

That is actually awesome you said matter-of-factly. 

I thought so, too.

Feeding The Family

Dear Olive,
On Thursday of last week, I cooked my first mid week meal in five weeks. I've been very disciplined in devoting a chunk of my weekends to making chicken stock, plus two dishes (soup, curry, cacciatore, bolognaise), that see us simply reheating food each night, or, at most, cooking rice. (On one night every week, absolutely guaranteed, it's thai take away.) But on Thursday night, there was nothing pre-made left. We tend to eat very simply in our house, and thanks to our weekly farmers markets trip, there are always fresh veggies in the house. So, in the bottom of a large saucepan, I heated water with salt and bay leaves and poached some chicken thigh. In the steamer on the top of the same pot (one pot cooking ... bonus), I cooked broccoli, cauliflower and kale. It may sound pretty boring, but with the addition of a quick sauce made with tahini, olive oil, ground cumin, ground coriander, and salt & pepper, it was a really satisfying meal. And most importantly, it was ready to eat in 10 minutes flat. But wait, there's more ... by throwing in cherry tomatoes, sunflower seeds and pepitas, the leftovers made for a very tasty wintery salad type thing for lunch the next day.

Surviving

Dear Olive,
We survived the first week of our (rather punishing) new schedule. Just. With help from a ton of weekend cooking, generous friends (thanks Mel!) and family (thanks Sarah!), and the most amazing neighbour ever (that'd be you, Jette!), we survived. I've missed you so much I could cry, but I'm happy in this job too. It's a big adjustment for all of us, but especially for you - having had two parents around for so many months, to now having us both working, and you're coping amazingly well. It can be difficult to explain the intricate workings of life to a three year old, but, for the most part, I don't feel guilty about leaving you. (I'm trying not to, anyway.) I want you to know that it's important to be fulfilled as a mother, but also as a woman - and that there are many ways for you to do this. One of them takes you away from your family. But that's just the way it is.

16 weeks and two days to go.

Mini Break

Dear Olive,
This week, you and I took the last opportunity we'd have for a while, to get away for a few days with my family. Dewy mornings on the swing, ridiculously sunny days spent outdoors, lots of time with cousins - there was a ton of fun to be had and of course it went by in a flash. You desperately didn't want to come home. In a way, neither did I. I start my full-time-for-four-months job on Monday, and I'm not sure how much I'll be around this space for the next little while. I still can't yet get my head around how we're going to do it - run a household, and organise you, with Shane and I both working what will presumably be mega hours. But mostly, I'm just worried about how much I'm going to miss you! I've been embarrassingly teary today, and I kept you home from kindy to have just one last lovely day together. And yet, at the same time, I'm rather looking forward to this job. I think it's going to be a good one for me. Ah, the never ending push pull of motherhood. Will I ever get used to it?

On Working & Anxiety & Patti Smith

Dear Olive,
It's a funny old business, the film industry. One day you're on the verge of bankruptcy, the next, gainfully employed five days a week, with childcare for only two. I'm trying not to panic, but that's impossible. There's so much to organise in the next week and I'm feeling paralysed by it. I've suffered a lot of anxiety lately - for the first time in years, although through recognising it, and making a few small changes, I feel like I'm getting on top of it. Giving up coffee *again* has helped. And so has taking time out to just breathe deeply and repeat a self-affirmation. It sounds such an inconsequential activity, but in practice, it's had quite a powerful impact on me. 
I love this Patti Smith interview that I listened to this morning - her advice for young people. While I may not entirely qualify as young, I still think it's a lovely (and timely) reminder about life. "Life is really difficult, you're going to lose people you love, you'll suffer heartbreak ... but on the other end, you'll have the most beautiful experiences. Sometimes just the sky ... or you find somebody to love, or your children ... We're born, and we also have to die. We know that ... We're going to be really happy, and things are going to be really fucked up, too .... Life is like a roller coaster ride, it is never going to be perfect. It is going to have perfect moments, and rough spots. But it's all worth it. Believe me."

PS If you haven't read Just Kids, you're crazy.

Nag, Nag, Nag

Dear Olive,
One of the worst things about the way I've been working the past couple of months, is how disgustingly early we need to bust out of the house, dressed and fed. And just how much naggying and hurry-UP-ing that takes place in order for us to do so. It sure makes me appreciate the days where we don't have to belt out that door like bats out of hell, egg yolk yet to dry on chins, passing off last nights pyjamas at today wear. We wake up ... slowly. We eat breakfast ... slowly. We get dressed ... slowly. It's such a relief not to play the awful, nagging parent for a day. And instead, play the fun one. And seeing as tomorrow's my last day on this job, I'm looking forward to plenty more of those.

Cutest and softest and most delightful jumper EVER from Tootsa Macginty. It's even got the tell tale stains to prove it's both our favourites - it hasn't been taken off in days.

Shadows

Dear Olive,
We lost our nanny yesterday. Well, not lost as in I don't know where she is, because I do; she's in her flat in Vaucluse. But lost as in she's not going to be looking after you anymore. It's been coming for a while, she's been less and less available, and this week finally told us she's following another path to different job, which I totally understand and she goes with my best wishes for every success in her new life. What has come as a surprise, though, is that it's left me feeling extremely emotional. Maybe I'm just tired. Or maybe I'm upset because someone you love, and who loves you, has pretty much left your life. Or maybe it's bigger than that. Everything just seems to be changing so fast around me, I can barely keep up. You're starting preschool next week - next week! - and I feel positively ill with nervousness. Just an offhand mention of it to my neighbour earlier had me in tears. I don't really know why, but I think it's something to do with feeling like I'm sending you out into the world on your own. You, my child, out there fending for your self. Of course, you - incredible, resilient you, are (so far) completely taken with the idea of starting preschool. Just don't forget to hold your old Mums hand on the way in, will you. I may very well need the support.

PS I'm not really feeling as dark as these photos may suggest. I just loved the shadow on the wall of you playing with Pepper in the morning light. That is all.

Here I Am

Dear Olive,
I haven't been in this space much lately. I've been here - inside the costume office of a 50's tv show. 

Weekend

Dear Olive,
I had, in my mind, an insightful letter about being a working Mum. On my mind because Shane and I are both working full time for a few weeks, and it's all extremely tricky. But I'm far too busy with work to think about it properly. (Ha!) So here are some pictures from our weekend instead.
1. You had a massive tantrum yesterday because you want a dog on a lead. You've been asking for a lead for Pepper for a few weeks. The fact that she follows us for a few blocks every time we go for a walk clearly does not cut the mustard.
2. Watching the ice skaters. That's right, there's an ice skating rink, on bondi beach.
3. Scrambled eggs and a pompom. Naturally.
4.& 5.& 6. Sun dance. It's sandal weather!
7. Craft at the markets with friends.
8. Lazy Sunday fish and chip lunch.

Home Work

Dear Olive,
We've been driving each other crazy this week. I've been doing a lot of work from home, which I don't normally do, and we're both finding it very testing. Me, because I'm desperately trying to break away from a never ending game of pet shop/pretending we're characters from a tv show/playing schools/jumping on the bed, so I can focus my attention on something that's not you. And you, because I'm desperately trying to break away from a never ending game of pet shop/pretending we're characters from a tv show/playing schools/jumping on the bed, so I can focus my attention on something that's not you. I'm only half here, and I'm only half there, and I'm finding it next to impossible to just be one or the other. Mindfulness, right? But you're trying to get my attention by getting into all my work and whinging, I get annoyed with you, you get more whiney, I more annoyed ... and so on and so on. Until the bell goes and we're each crying and rocking in separate corners. Ok, so it hasn't quite come to the rocking in the corners part (yet), but massive ups to all the people who manage to work from home successfully. Because it's pretty hard.
(I know it's been blogged to death, but these photos are from a recent trip to Koskela. It's amazing! Kitchen by Mike is so.goddamn.good. I would not have been able to eat my pumpkin/goats cheese/rocket sandwich standing up. And there is a whole kids section in the showroom that is basically a massive playroom. So it makes the whole experience pretty relaxing, you know, for a shop.)

Away

Dear Olive,
I write this from bed, in my hotel room. Empty packets of crappy hotel biscuits crumpled beside me, a few hours from Sydney. I'm away for a few days for work, on my own. That's right. I'm here. And you, my little O bags are there. It's the first time I've ever left you for more than a night and I'm really, really, really feeling it. I miss you like sleep*, and at times I feel lost with a previously unknown physical ache**. You, on the other hand, are being totally amazing. You blow me away with how adaptable you are (you always have). While I have tears rolling down my cheeks when we talk on the phone, you're as upbeat as can be, exuberantly telling me about your day and how much you miss me. One more day. In the meantime, I'm consoling myself by looking at these photos. The two sides of my heart. Together.

*I totally stole that line from Tim Rogers
**However, I'm not walking around moping. I'm also having a very fun time!