I don’t know Tash Lampard, but I think I love Tash Lampard. I love her passion. It’s not my dream, but I appreciate it.
My kids are in a pretty straight-forward routine, now. The eldest is almost 2, the youngest is 7 months. I’ve been feeling less brain-tired, more organised, more motivated. Different priorities have been able to emerge, as a result.
I would like to write more, think more, get my house in order (metaphorically & literally), plan a big house renovation, and start at least one side project that is completely separate from my day-job.
Even with our little routine in place, I cannot fit in journalling. I prefer journalling to happen in the morning, requiring about 30-45 minutes, and I am not prepared to wake up before the kids to make that happen. My kids wake up at 8am, and that is A-OK by us. We are very happy to have our evenings to ourselves; to have from 8pm-11pm doing whatever we want to do, then a good 8 hours of sleep.
As a temporary fix, I’ve started the Five Minute Journal questions, every morning and night, to get back into a different way of thinking. Before, when I was brain-tired, I could only live in the moment. I couldn’t think of a fabulous future birthday gift for a friend, or plan how to get my house in order. I couldn’t do anything that required much brain energy. I couldn’t even read a magazine. I have about 30 unread magazines on my desk. But now I have a bit more energy, I want to grow it.
I went to my bookshelf and picked this small notebook for my Five Minute Journal.
The photo doesn’t do it justice. The notebook is gorgeous. Vivid but subtle, textured but smooth.
I bought the notebook in Mexico in 2013. We were trying to find a cafe one day, and found a bookshop-cafe, which is one of my favourite ever things, and even though the prices were crazy, I allowed myself to buy one (1) book and one (1) notebook as a special, memorable treat. (The book was Blow-Up and Other Stories – beautiful and amazing.) I had to choose this notebook, because it reminded me of everything I’d been seeing in Mexico – colour, depth, character, stories, decoration, emotion, history, meaning. Seeing it made me reminisce about Mexico, even though I was still there! It was the opposite of the aesthetic back home, in Melbourne, Australia – plain, minimal, chic or functional, no decoration, no stories or history or emotion or depth captured in our buildings, houses, gates, doors, cars, sidewalks, train stations, or tea cups.
I already missed the aesthetic.
I’m now looking at this wee notebook every day, for my mini journalling ritual. <3
We are buying a house. The paperwork will go through very soon. We have the opportunity to renovate, and I’ve been thinking about how to step away from this plainness, this sterility of the Australian aesthetic, and to give some warmth and character and meaning and colour to our sweet home.
It might take a bit of work to convince my partner, but I would really like a couple of murals / wall paintings in our house.
Not this pastel, but…
With all the details of the house, I’d like to do this. Make it not plain, somehow. I miss Mexico.
Need more time. Have little time*. I say this every month! I am trialling having a nanny for one day a week. We shall see. Almost all the way through October and I’m just getting to this September post. OOPS. I have returned to yoga class after a long absence. And one night, I went out with my sister shopping. It feels weird to be out “on the town” at night! I am so glad I am being a parent now, in my thirties, not in my twenties. I would have felt FOMO times a million.
What else? Well, the big news (besides Sky turning 6 months) is that we are buying a house and planning to renovate it.
My attitude towards house/home until now was something like – “I’d like it to look nice, but it’s more just a place to sleep; I’d rather go to beautiful cafes and bars and restaurants and have a beautiful workplace to go to, instead of putting a big amount of time and effort into making my living quarters look amazing.” I think that’s because I was always renting, so I never really felt I could make any significant changes to my abode, and it wasn’t worth spending money on nice furniture (or nice anythings) because I’d probably move in a short while, and my stuff mightn’t look good in the new place.
But when we were talking about buying the house, I realised that I was being daft thinking about how I wanted to work at beautiful workplaces and holiday at beautiful vacation spots – home is actually where I spend the most time (soooooo much time), so my home should be the place that I make divine, amazing, wonderful! Such a dumb revelation, but yeah. I want my home to be like the most beautiful workplace I could step into, or the most gorgeous getaway. I want to drive up to my house and think, wow, I love my house! And step into my home and think, wow, I love this place. I love my bedroom, this kitchen, this lounge, this garden, this space.
So. That is the big project for now. Lots and lots of renovation planning. Making a pretty and fun and calming and cosy and loving space for these cuties.
*and when I say “time,” I mean brain space/energy. I do have some free time during the day, when the kids are asleep, but then I am pooped. Like right now.
I have zero time for reflection. I must have had so much time to think, before. I do have down-time – about one hour in the middle of the day, and three hours at night – but I can’t say I ever get any reflection-type-thinking done. I tried writing a letter to a friend the other day, and it was so hard! You have to be able to think in a certain way to write a letter, reflecting upon your own thoughts and then considering the other person’s life too, and I couldn’t do it very well. Writing here is the same.
I gotta make more space. Just a little. The equivalent of a “weekend” each week. Or just a Saturday. Something like that. Time to think.
I’m loving my life, though. Looking after two babes, nurturing them, enjoying our days, experiencing so much fun (for example: we’re on holidays at the moment and my babes are an excuse for me to go down the waterslides over and over and over!). Happy Fox.
It’s 9.30pm. Now is meant to be my time. Kids are meant to be in bed at 8:00pm, leaving me a precious couple of hours to… have a tea and read or watch something.
Sky didn’t get the memo.
I put her to bed at the usual time and she cried on and off. I picked her up and she squealed happily. I put her back to bed and she cried on and off. I picked her up again and she squealed happily.
So now, this:
No writing about my toddler’s favourite iPhone apps, or how I feel like I haven’t had a day off work since forever, or how I had a cafe breakfast yesterday for the first time in ages and it was fantastic, or how I wish I’d done cloth nappies, or how I’ve been thinking about what my perfect dream home would be… instead, I have a squealing-happy-very-awake-baby on me. And she doesn’t want to be ignored. And now it’s 11:00pm.
Apparently she wants to watch Netflix trailers.
1. Happy Birthday Me
First, a little throwback to May. It was my birthday in late May. I splashed out on a few Things (Things, capital T. Material objects.) that I’d been wishing for.