the Wise Robin

beautiful day

 i had high hopes of bringing you the first instalment of the new project that i'm working on and so excited about, so you all some weekend reading. last night there were six wake up calls to the babe between midnight and five am, a routine she is happily settling into but ends up leaving me feeling a little raw and sleepy. these days most mornings start with black and greens eighty five percent. but we are happily going along with our daily rhythm. today is halloween and tonight we'll light our lanterns, sit around the fire and stare up at the big night sky. the laundry is already done and waiting to be hung out, the girls are fed and going about their morning busyness, the chooks are quiet [mornings can get rowdy round here], there is a gentle breeze blowing in through the front door and the sun is smiling. it is going to be a beautiful day. i've been digging into erin's archives, she is so inspiring. inspiring me to be more mindful and choose how i feel.  so today i choose to put my fatigue aside, jump right in and make today a beautiful day. there won't be any weekend reading for you this time, but don't worry, i'm on it and it will be here soon. wishing you a beautiful day too and a happy halloween.

 

 

evening rhythm

 

as the days lengthen we find ourselves outdoors later into the evening, enjoying the extra time in the garden, eating dinner on the grass, and heading into the bush. it's become an after dinner thing, finding it's way into our evening rhythm as we wind down at the end of these days that are so full of busyness as we head toward solstice. our little patch of bush is bursting with so much life and colour at this time of year. grasses flowering, daisies and bluebells dotting the hillside, plantain fairy skirts and cobwebs glittering in the evening sunshine. even the weeds look lovely, the wild oats tall and lush with their empty husks filtering the sunset. we climb the hill to the watertank, leaving the day behind. we watch the town below, take a deep breath, connect with each other after a day apart, listen to the birds, hear the sun dip below the western hills then head homeward. it's my favourite part of the day, being together in that transition time before sleep, before another day begins.

 

 

 

ice cream and buttercups

what a lovely weekend we had spring cleaning, gardening in the sunshine and catching up with friends. i put the finishing stitches on zahra's birthday quilt and finished it off in our friends tumble dryer, just the way alicia recommended. it didn't come out as pruney as i'd hoped but it still has a little of that crumpled, cosy feel. we made hamburgers and ate toasted walnut and honey ice cream, stood in the last of the evening sun and wandered down to the creek. there were masses of buttercups and unfurling fern fronds. buttercups make me think of lemonade and english summers. as kids we used to play a  funny little game holding buttercups under each others chins, looking for that yellow reflection that meant you liked butter. the things we remember. then driving home through the darkness, one girl sleeping and the other quiet in the stillness of the scenes caught momentarily in the passing headlights. and today more cups of tea and more friends. freshly baked bread, soup scraped together from what we could find in the pantry because i didn't feel like going to the store yesterday or the day before or the day before that. there's something satisfying and beautiful about meals like this, much the same as when you go camping. it just tastes all the better for it's simplicity and ease. then there was the gorgeous young couple expecting their first baby who came and took away some of my old baby gear. she looked so relaxed and beautiful. it felt good to be passing it on, clearing space, making room for good and new things. i worked a little on my new project and made it into the bush with william. we strolled and talked about what we hoped this week would bring. goodbye weekend, hello new week

on the move

 

 

who doesn't love a baby in a bonds wondersuit?

 

have a peaceful weekend friends.

closing act

 

 

today i officially begin working on the art of mothering project which i'm really excited about. next week, fingers crossed i'll have the beginnings of it all to share with you. these past few days we've been soaking in the sunshine and thunderstorms. a good thunderstorm with all the anticipation and energy it carries would have to be one of my favourite things. they've been rolling on through late in the evenings. lightning creating silhouettes, rhythmic rain and a fresh breezes. i'm loving our morning ritual of venturing into the garden for fresh cut flowers that zahra then dots about the house. a mr. lincoln here, some david austen's there. lavender, geraniums, irises, daisies, though the irises don't do too well in a vase. we get to greet the day and bring some of it inside with us. niamh has two brand new teeth which have been keeping us busy through the night. she napped for a whopping seven hours yesterday, unheard of for this poppet who likes to know what's going on and be in the middle of it all. today she seems to have come out the other side having grown into herself a little more. this morning she sat, all be herself, and was happy to gaze about and play quietly while i pottered in the kitchen and zahra got ready for a class. normally she's in my arms within five minutes of being put down. this afternoon i watched her rolling around on the couch, getting more mobile. we've slowly been making our way back into the bush. it is so beautiful at this time of year. the fire that went through last summer has left a wake of chocolate lillies and milkmaids. zahra says the bush smells like chocolate. these spring days feel like they're winding down and summer, my least favourite season is closing in. soon it will be too hot to venture out past nine in the morning, windows and doors closed to the heat. we must make the most of spring's closing act.

 

the art of mothering

 

yesterday i was thinking and asking about how we as mamas find time to do those things that allow us space for the things we are passionate about, those things that fill our buckets, keep us afloat amid the busy-ness that is being a mama. for me it's the need to follow my creative thread into image making, print making, knitting, sewing, writing, spinning, gardening. some of these things, like gardening fit seamlessly into our lives but for many of my other passions i've been discovering that my efforts of finding a time and space to follow them have been falling in a big heap of late. to some degree i'm still trying to figure out whether it's an offshoot of sleep deprivation, the daylight saving lag effect that always seems to take a little adjusting to at this time of year or whether it's a time thing. finding the time amid our full days. since putting it out there yesterday i've been pondering the ways in which i mould our days so we can all follow our inspiration but more specifically what elements i need in place so as i can seize inspiration when it strikes. my days of having a studio space separate from our home have gone underground for the moment so i've had to rethink and readjust. rethink and readjust my attitude. for the first few months of having niamh here with us i could feel myself pushing against this feeling of out of controlness, the domesticity of my days, the relentlessness of it all. where had that space to create gone? but that pushing just made it harder for me. as soon as i let go and started riding that wave i felt happier and more at peace with how things were rolling. there is acceptance among the frustration now but there is certainly no room for   complacency. i don't say "this is my lot and this is how it's going to be", because i have choices every moment of the day. i choose not to watch tv in favour of reaching for my needles, or making it here. i choose to go to bed early so that i have more energy and focus for tomorrow to find that scrap of paper to scribble down an idea before it vanishes. i choose to home educate so that we can live creatively, shape our days to suit our passions. i choose and welcome flexibility so that if it doesn't get done right now my knickers don't get in a knot. sometimes we just need reminders like charisse's beautiful words yesterday, that our children are our creative lives. i know that, sometimes it simply gets lost amid the laundry and meal prep and all those other hundreds of things that we mama's are working on. i'm in love with the idea of finding out more about why women have the drive to create and how they make it part of their everyday. it really intrigues me. so i'm launching a project called the art of motherhood. i'm really excited about it and i start this friday.

 

my divided heart

4:22pm  just about to sit down to write and the babe wakes.

9:02pm  girls just asleep, house somewhat tidy, dishwasher whirring away, ready to write, but the inspiration ...all but gone. washed over with fatigue.

this is the scenario every day as a mama with small children. diversion. disruption. that vortex of domestic work. all encompassing demands. constraints on my time and freedom to create. TIME, what a brutal yet beautiful thing. no longer at liberty to make use of that artistic impulse when it strikes. i am trying to learn to store my inspiration, those images, those words, those feelings that might trigger that postponed creative thread for when i can steal a few minutes. often those few minutes are filled to every nook and cranny with lack of sleep so that all i can muster is to sit and stare out the window trying to re-piece that idea i had earlier. when night closes in and i find myself alone with myself i am faced with the choice of deepening that sleep deprivation in order to fulfil just a little self realisation or to sleep so i can do it all again tomorrow without my cranky pants on. lying awake last night listening to the thunder and rain spattering on our bedroom awning i desperately wanted to steal from out of the covers and busy my hands with knitting or sewing, writing or photo editing, any of those creative pursuits that find me at a point of stillness amidst the chaos. the drive to create as a mama is intense yet i find this drive and my desires squeezed to the edge of my everyday. i chose to lie still listening to my peeps breathing in and out for fear of waking anyone with my movements, the lamplight, that energy of inwardness that is like mother’s milk which instinctively seems to draw children like moths, ambushing me with demands. i am no longer a discrete identity and i find this hard. it challenges me everyday. i need to make use of the emotional intensity that mamahood is but i am struggling to find that balance between mothering my children and mothering myself. the art of motherhood. creativity and motherhood both feel intrinsic to a meaningful life but how do i reconcile their demands? i have my children pulling on my skirts and this creative drive pulling at my sleeves. how do i reconcile their, my, continual needs? that is the attraction of women, like soulemama,  who seem to have found that point of equilibrium between being a dedicated mama and living creatively. these women give me hope. i trawl their words for strategies, hints, encouragement and soak in their determination, their motivation to keep at it. when zahra was just a babe and i was a single mama it seemed easier. studying fulltime to be a midwife, working photography jobs here and there,  juggling her needs and my needs for intellectual stimulation and a creative life ...it all just seemed to fall into place. she was a good sleeper, independent, easy all round really. i could stay up late getting my fill of independence. but niamh, this darling,  this new babe is different. she is busy, needing me as babes do, sleeping little, making us laugh. it is different. good different but different in a way that has me gasping for time and space. don’t get me wrong, the last thing i want to do is complain. i love my girls, i love being a mama, i’m just struggling with this divided heart of mine. a heart that is divided by the fear that if i succeed at one i fail at the other. i wan’t both. is it possible? i believe yes, i just need to figure out a way. what is your way, what are your strategies, how do you keep your identity afloat as the demands of motherhood constantly threaten to engulf you? how do you as mama practice the art of motherhood?

 

my little pearls

 

one skein of hand dyed wool, a vintage button, some of last years birthday baby alpaca and two winters of knitting here and there eqauls one little pearl vest. i was casting off just as the morning sickness was really kicking in last year, just in time for Zahra to wear it through those chilly spring days. a simple first pattern for knitting in the round. easy to wear and a simple, no fuss design... just how my girl likes things.

little pearl number two. baby alpaca and DK tweed. knit big so it will fit her next year unlike the last vest. it's so lovely to be outside in the warm Spring sunshine. picnics on the grass for dinner and schoolwork under the apple tree with the buzzing honeybees. i was looking for an old photo in the files the other day and kept coming across zahra one year, two years, three years ago. so much change and growth. and miss niamh going on seven months, trying different foods, cutting teeth, laughing so. it goes fast. too fast. sometimes i just want to slow it down, stop time, gather them up and hold these littles just as they are for a while. but the changes are exciting too. always new adventures. i love these little pearls of mine

northward bound and back

 

northward we went for our spring break to the sand and salty sea, rainforest treetops and my mum's sunny garden. there was sadness as we said goodbye to the girls and my love, the apple tree just about to bloom, knowing we might miss her in her springtime dress, bees abuzz, bringing life and warmth into our yard after winter's rest. not knowing how niamh would travel. she cries everytime she's in the car, me reaching back so she can feel my hand. a talking book made the trip fly and niamh did beautifully napping her and there but happy to have her sister right by her. it was happiness to see meme and papa, cousins and aunties. i barely glimpsed zahra for a week as she played with her cousins. we ate fish and chips by the seaside and zahra took her first dip for the season. it was windy, too windy. i find the wind trying. it whisks by and takes my energy and patience with it. i found a sheltered walk around the cliffs while the girls ran with the seagulls and built sand castles. there were late nights and bicsuits with tea, lots of tea. i love that about staying with my folks, tea all day and big breakfasts with juice and oatmeal, eggs, bacon and toast, everyone around the table starting a good morning together. i lolled in the sun reading in the garden and got sunburnt. niamh was passed between grandparents and sister, cousins and aunties. so good to see everyone. nonno and nonna came to visit and we lunched at the old local post office. i got out by myself and browsed the bookshop. there were dates with zahra and lots of handholding. we walked through the treetops of a rainforest listening to the birds. i didn't know heights made me funny in the tummy. niamh cut her first tooth and realised she could roll from here to there to reach things. there were backyard picnics and icy cold mornings. oh we had such a lovely time. goodbyes are always sad.

one of my favourite things about coming home are the hello's. hello to my love, hello to the girls in the yard, hello apple tree with it's branches alive with blossoms and honeybees busy on their rounds, hello julie the hermit crab, hello garden, hello home. watching zahra rediscover the nooks and crannies every time we return from a trip away makes me smile. and so we didn't miss the apple blossoms. the david austin's are ruffling their petticoats and smelling delicious. bearded irises have replaced the bluebells and daffy down dillies. blueberry and raspberry flowers make me look forward to summer. little plums are starting to weigh down the branches. we came home in time for the long weekend. a weekend of marking out a new and bigger veggie patch, tree climbing, chookie cuddling, bbq's and the the first alfresco dinner. home to my kitchen and a renewed inspiration for being in the kitchen and cooking warm weather foods. home to a spare room that was secretly decluttered and furniture exchanged. a room where william and i can now work side by side creating. a new bookshelf for my fibres and books, notebooks and threads, lino cut tools and notions. a clean desk with fresh flowers from zahra. a new space that invited me to sew straight away, a 'new' summer top from an old dress. a visit to our patch of bush on the hill where the chocolate lilies and milk maids have carpeted last summer's burn scars. home to our own beds, the four of us bunking down in the one room. home to the possums scratching in the roof and the girls waiting at the back door each morning squawking for the their breakfast. home to the laundry and other daily chores. home to our daily rituals and rhythms. home is good.