Where the magic happens..

Its been a working process for months. This did not happen over night. I would have been impossible. I wanted to share an area with the kids where i could see them and they could see me. I didnt want to work in another room from them and feel distant.

We are lucky enough to have a house at the end of a culdersack with a long driveway. So i decided to take over the double garage.

For the first few months our garage looked like this.. Chaos.

A dead set nightmare.

I attempted many times to get some sort of order. But to be able to achieve that would have meant NOT restoring and rehoming.. it meant removing.

I had to part with alot of stuff.

The past few months i have done load after load to the tip and donating to thrift shops.. Parting with things ive stored for years.

Now i have a haven where i sit all day (And usally all night).

The kids have free run of our street, we watch movies, we warm ourself in the sun, we chat with the neighbours. Every 2nd house is a family full of kids.

Its bliss.

Huge TV - $0 Free cycle

Sewing desk- $5 Salvation Army

Small pink and white storage- $0 (From a good friend)

I also take the baskets out and use it to store my tea cup candles at my market

Butterfly felt mobile- $0 Gift from 'Friends for Felix'

Plastic storage containers- $10 for 20 Reduced to clear rack at target.

Long Cabnet- $5 Garage sale.

Frames- $2

Reused from my table placings at our wedding.

Now they store handmade doilies as a wedding gift from my husbands Aunty.

Desk and cabnet - Free

(Thank god for granparents with style)

Chair- Free from my parents old dining room set.

Scales- Free

Best friends mum..

Book shelf - $10

Garage sale

Tea Pots and tea cups- Thrift shops and garage sales

Clothes racks - Free

Some girls i met at a market.. forget their names..

Whether you sew, paint, cook or create..

Show us a snipit..Where does your magic happen?

x N

The memories..

Sneaking your chupa chup out the window in the feezing air..

And licking it while its cold.

What are your expectations..

What do you expect to gain from holding a stall at a local market.

Are you there after spending weeks and weeks sweating out stock , to by the end of the day have it all sold?

Are you there to meet like minded crafty people?

To showcase your product and gain interest?

With the fee you pay for your market hoping for loads of people to come past your stall?

And what is an appropriate amount of effort, you as a business owner / crafter are willing to contribute in to promoting the fact you will be a stall holder.

Do you promote on your facebook page? Do you promote pick up for sold items

.. then bringing in more potential customers for fellow stall holders?

Do you ask the co ordinator of pamphlets, leaflets, email-able and printable details..

Personally, I am there for the pure adreniline.

I, in all honesty, couldnt care if i walked away with a $5 sale.

I always take my best friend with me so she can man the stall and i can go meet the other stall holders.

I adore seeing the care and passion my fellow madies have put in to their wares.

the nervous chit chat while you wait for the 'approval' from others.

Market day to me, is my day to shine.

Its my little 6x4 shop.

I get to my market nice and early.

Starts at 9.. Im there around 7am , giving me time to focus on details.

Last month i was lucky enough to have my parents drop by before opening.

Watching my dad spin all the little teacup handles the right way, dropping the tags down beside them and perfectly placing my bunting across my table.

Each bunting inside each other. It looked so therapeutic for him.

My mother, on the other hand.

Tipped my bundle of hair ties, brooches and pins out of the converse shoe box i keep them in.. flipped the shoe box over and placed them on and around it.. Bless..

I always have friends who come up and have a walk around.. Bringing me chocolate and coffee.

And fellow face bookers drop in to finally put a voice.. to the name.

I am so proud of each market stall i hold.

Not only because i am made to feel like an asset to the market but because of the effort i put into making it look and feel amazing.

That, is why i spend my Sundays in a hall, with hundreds of crazy shoppers and like minded WAHP's.

I promote my market as it were my own shop.

I ask Cassandra from The Upper market in Upper Coomera for pamphlets which i keep a dozen off in my nappy bag. They are month friendly so they never out date.

On the Friday before , when i head to pick master 5 up from school i drop leaflets on all the car windows.

I even blue tacked one to the gate at day care.

I gave 20 to a friend i know who works at the local bakery and she slipped them in peoples plastic bags.

And a friend who lives 45 minutes away put one up in her daycare.

I spam my page with links to the market leading up to the big day. And i offer market specials.

I bring a jar of lollies and have a free guessing game. And promote that too.

And this bring me to my question.. As i see many stall holders publicly voicing their disappointed in the market days they attend.

Now, Why are you a stall holder? and as a stall holder, what do you have to offer your market if anything?

I am just thankful my local market it a reasonable rate, has fantastic publicity and an awesome bunch of like minded people.

x N

Freedom..

On Monday i had the sweet Jess (and her mama) from Winnifreds Daughter over delivering Master 6's birthday present he had bought off her with his birthday money.

We also sat and disgust Master 1's christmas custom order. (Honestly, i highly doubt im going to be able to wait untill christmas to gift it to him..)

For a while now i have always wanted to ask her where she got her inspiration from when creating these unique creatures.. Jess not only uses facebook as a base to showcase her creations, but also uses etsy.com , Im not a big follower of etsy so maby i am blinded to other similar creations, but Winnifreds Daughter blows my mind.

The attention to detail, the designs.. So unique.

When i finally got the guts to ask how her design came about , it was such an awesome explanation.

She had drafted many different faces and bodies. Played with legs and eyes and faces and ears until she found the things she loved. She uses upcycyled materials, and even brought around the 2 jumpers she will be using for Master 1's softie.

When i asked her how she knew her design was perfect.. She said it was like she had found Freedom.

You can tell when someone finds their freedom. That something that set them apart.

Yes , a gazzilion people make ruffled nappy covers, but its the combinations and client love, the passion for charities that sets Tina from Georgie girl apart from the rest.

The fabric and child like imagination that makes Cherie from Lace and Ryde stand out from the millions of other doll makers.

Its the perfection that Jodie from Flowers, Frills, Buttons & Bows will not settle for anything less of when it comes to making her babushkas and Kokeshi's

Lucy from Coco L'Amour.. 100% handmade and crafted cushions.

Yeah, sure you could by a mass produced cushion from Target or spotlight for $31.00. But its not the best feeling when your visitor mentions she saw that cushion at their mums just the other day and she had brought it at the target sale for $25.00

(...Yes .. it happened to me.. sigh..)

I love following Janine's growth and talent at Little Wildrose .. every new collection released is just jaw dropping..

.

I know, your thinking.. 'All the big names' .. but take a second to realize why they are so well known. They arent known for giveaways or page spamming.. they are known for the amazing work they have to offer.

Personally, i am far from finding my freedom.

I dabble in hundreds of different designs and ideas. 98% of the time its not even shown on my facebook page.

I am still far from finding that one or 2 ideas that give me freedom.

How and when did you find your freedom?

Are you still looking?

Doubting yourself?

Are you at the stage you feel for filled? or still looking for praise?

Do you still crave that one thing that will make you stand out?

Does it not worry you?

I want to know the person behind the page.

Your reasons for what you do.

Share with me who you are what is your passion.

x N

Appreciating..

Today i am appreciating.

I appreciate sunsets. And the glow they have to offer at the end of an exhausting day.

The dimples.

The Love a baby has for his baby.

I appreciate the bond.

The curls. I appreciate the curls..

The feet.. I pray these feet never grow.

I appreciate the way he looks at me.

Appreciating the strength he gives me.

Today, for the first time in a long time i was proud of myself.

Proud of what i achieved and proud of my family.

When did you get so big!?

9.04am Monday the 27th of June 2005.

My midwifes told me i should go home.. Labor wasn't progressing as fast as they thought it initially was and they had a hallway full of women waiting for beds to birth in.

I was hogging a room.

I was alone, trusting myself and my body. I didn't want to go home.

My parents were 45 minutes away, my best friend was at work and Jetts dad was at home.. Was just me and the midwives.

I attempted to stall them. They came back in to my room at 9.35am to unhook me from the monitors and drips that were re-hydrating me.

At the time i lived in a cute little fibro house, it was winter, we had cracks in our floor boards and it was freezing. Our hot water was minimal and took a good 5 minutes to reach 'warm' , So when they left my room.. i jumped in the shower. Scorching hot water pounding on my back. And within minutes i felt an odd feeling.. like a sharp pain down below. I didnt think much of it and put my hospital gown on.. then BAM!

10.00am my first contraction.

Intense.

I walked out to my room and knelt against my bed. At the time i thought i i had wet myself, but my waters broke.

I reached for my call button and called for the nurse.. She walked in and roused on me..

"We NEED these rooms! No time for showers!'

'I think ive wet myself' i sobbed..

She pulled back on my hospital supplied paper underware and quickly said ' get on the bed, your waters a full of meconium' .. Pure gibberish to me..

10.03am

I grabbed my phone call called jetts dad.. he needed to get to the hospital ..Stat.

I called my parents and managed to groan down the phone.. They got the drift.

And as per usual my soul sister had already felt it was time and left work to come and check up on me in hospital.

10.10am i climbed in to bed and waited. Nurses and midwives piled in to my room with cribs and monitors mumbling to them selves 'Why didnt she call earlier?' .. 'Where are her support people?' .. 'Does she have a antinatal book?'

I was confident i was birthing alone.

10.15am

I hear the nurse at the desk asking 'And what relation to her are you?' .. 'Im her MOTHER!' And seconds later in came mum..

a minute later .. Jetts dad..

and then Lucy.

My body knew it was good go to.. I pushed.

And lord oh mighty it hurt!!

10.20am I pushed again..

10.22am I have birth to a gorgeous squishy little 7lbs 12oz baby boy. I instantly loved him. I couldn't see imperfections.. meconium.. vernix.. blood.. I saw his eyes, i saw his button nose and counted all his fingers and toes.

I was in shock.. but in love.

6 years ago today. Where does 6 years go? And why does it still feel like only months ago.

I taught this boy, alone.. how to crawl and how to walk. I taught him words and manners. I showed him how to ride a bike and how to draw a dog. Me.. I taught him this.

Jett is a typical 6 year old. He tests his boundaries, he insists on having the last word, The final say. Hes demanding, He leaves his under ware behind the toilet and he would rather eat boogers.. then sausage.

But he is caring, and innocent.

He has the manners of an old soul. He loves anyone who will show him love. He is respectful, to those who respect him. He worries and is concerned, He doesn't everything possible to make sure others are happy. Sometimes it feels like a little old man is trapped inside a fresh body.

We are totally blessed.

Put the tantrums aside, the whinging and the back chat and hes is an amazing little boy. Affectionate and amazing.

For those who have not met Jett, i hope one day you meet someone like him.

For those who have met Jett, you will know exactly where i am coming from.

I wanted this boy with every single ounce of my energy and though weve had a long haul as a duo.. its been more then worth it.

To my 6 year old.

You keep me saine and insaine at the same time.

I would be a shell without you.

x Mum

♥

A useless mum moment..

Is officially what i will STOP calling it.

Im going to type this blog super fast, have to have it done before 9.00 pm so you literally stand up, walk to your children's room, listen to them breath, whisper you love them and then head to bed yourself.

I've had a rough trot lately.. and today that ends. Tomorrow i let go of worry and anxiety and find peace in every single thing i have been blessed with.

Today i made the decision to make the most of what life has to offer and tell the universe it can fuck right off with these ridiculous hurdles it is swiftly throwing at me.

Today.

Today i woke up dreading what it may bring. First day of holidays.. All 3 cabin feaver-ish kids.. We pottered around throughout the morning while i prepped for a car boot sale tomorrow morning.

Phoenix was a bit whingy and clingy so i popped him in to bed. He sooked , laughed, played and whinged for about an hour on and off.

I finally realised he wasn't going to fall asleep and loaded the kids in the people mover and set off to take the bike to the bike shop to be repaired.

Driving there i realised the sun was in Master 5's face.. so i turned to check if it was also in Phoenix's who was behind him.

It was.

I turned back as it looked like he was squinting, i thought of stopping to hang a blanket to stop the sun from hitting him, but realised id taken every single item out of the car to fit the bike it.. no blanket.

I turned back to check on coming cars so i could merge around the round about..

Phoenix was blue.

In a matter of seconds he had stopped breathing.

Its funny, when you try and think of something, when you really need to think of something. Your brain gives you nothing.

In a space of 5 seconds. Which felt like an hour.. my brain told me it was the colour from his drink bottle lid, the reflection from his toy hanging from the door or a crayon..

While trying not to hit any other cars while going around the round about i kept flicking my head back.. screaming profanities..

I hit my hazards and started to honk my horn.. I pulled over still cursing over and over and while waving cars down i opened his door.

Then i froze.

The useless mum moment.

I couldn't move, i could touch him, i couldn't say anything.

All i could hear was his five year old brother screaming 'Make him breathe'

A car pulled over and ive never seen a woman run so fast.

I manage to scream 'Hes not breathing' then fell down.

Her husband quickly started to pat phoenix's back and he vomited litres and litres of fluid everywhere. Still gasping for his breath.

I couldn't move. I just sat on the curb sobbing, In another mothers arms.

My daughter didnt say a word. The look on her 2 year old face said it all.

My son, 5 years old, kept repeating the same thing over and over. 'Make him breathe'

He eventually took Phoenix out of his seat and on to the pavement and stripped him down. My angels gave me towels and we clean his seat and wrapped him up.

I felt like the words 'Thank you' had not enough meaning..

With my jelly legs and ice cold shaking hands i managed to get myself back in to my car. and even said to myself.. 'Are you going to work legs??'

I drove him straight back home and called the hospital.

They said the wait was at least 6 hours and perhaps phone the home doctor first.

I popped phoenix in to a bath and sat with him untill the home doctor arrived.

Phoenix has just finished his antibiotics for a chest infection and now he has bronchitis.

His oxygen levels are low and his chest sounds cloudy. Boarder lining pneumonia.

Normally a person take around 30 breaths per minute. He is taking 72.

The reason he stopped breathing was because his little body couldn't keep up.

If it happens again , Doctor has given us his report to take him straight to hospital to start on oxygen.

The point of me sharing this with you is this..

This morning i spent 2 hours telling my kids 'Just give me a minute'

I buried my head in boxes and cupboards.. on the first day of holidays.. neglecting the attention they deserved. I could have spent 2 hours sorting, during nap time.

I put phoenix to bed out of frustration with his clinginess and sat Miss 2 in front of the tv with a bowl fruit and Dora.

Every single second with your children means more to them then you will ever know.

They dont voice is, they dont make it known there appreciation. But they are at there happiest when they are on your lap. With out a phone in your hand, with out a laptop next to you.

Just you, and them.

Today, when i saw Phoenix blue i thought of 20 billion things i wish i had have done.

I wish id sat with him on the lawn with a full watermelon. No rules.

I wish i had showered with him.

I wish i had road him around the street on the seat of his sisters bike.

I wish i had stopped packing the containers in front of him, and let him play with them.

I wish i had layed on the trampoline watching the flight of bird scream past.

But instead, i had rushed around, ignored the cry's of my children and got my priorities wrong. I messed up.

I know and understand, i could not have prevented Phoenix choking. He is sick, that is why he choked.

But , what i he i never got to see him smile again. I never got to hear him smash my spoons and forks against my favorite saucepan?

I need to stop and love my children more then i ever have.

Its nearly 9pm. Your still awake, you have read my blog. Get up, walk to your babies rooms (big or small babies.. 1 or 21..)

Listen to them breath, give them minutes of your time.

Whisper you love them. And forgive yourself.

x N

$4.00 Worth of beautiful happiness.

i ♥ The thrift shops trips where your looking for nothing.

I am constantly playing with Addison-Dior's room like it were my own.

Adding trinkets to her collection, fixing her frames.. changing her pillow cases.

Living my childhood through her room i guess.

Today on my travels i ducked in very quickly to the Animal welfare league op shop in currumbin seen as though i was at the wreckers next door.

Its these kind of buys you cant 'search for' .

Double white lace and embroided duvet cover $3.00

3 for $1.00 pillow cases.

1 ruffled pink case-

1 baby pink satin cover-

And, My rare find- The Swan on the front of this pillow slip brings so much calmness to her room.

I wonder whos room this sat in and if they appreciate it as much as we do... I wonder if i will ever find a matching slip?

Now all i need to do it sit in front of my PC 24/7 for the next week to score one of Flower Frills Buttons & Bows - Swan Softie ♥

Im going to need supplies.. Chocolate anyone?

x

A 'not so' Wise woman once said..

I seem to have a shocking run of luck when i attempt going to the larger shops.

A few months ago i got told that i was being inconsiderate to other shoppers by using a double pram whist only having one child occupy it.

My son was only 8 months old, we were at Ashmore City (The shop speaks for its self) And it was a Sunday morning. They have a car boot sale on a Sunday so i had rummaged around there using the spare seat to store my buys then ducked in to the IGA to buy some milk.

I was lining up behind the said woman when she stood back to far touching her ankle on my pram.. I appologised and moved back a little.

That's when her mental break down began.

Yelling at me how i was 'hogging' the isle and calling me selfish.. I was borderline bursting in to sleep deprived tears when she KICKED my pram.. tears turned to volcanic acid and i lost my barley coherent temper.

For those who dont know, our son is very sick. His liver doesnt work , he catches every single virus going round and its very fragile. And at the time was not well.

I threw every single reason why she should not have touched my pram at her while holding back on hurling my 3L milk at the woman screaming back at me.

The supervisor then whisked me away to another register and asked if i would like to make a report. I just wanted to get the hell out of there. Piled all my boot sale buys in my car, buckled baby in and just sobbed.

A couple of weeks later i ventured to Kmart with little miss. Upon seeing a fellow 2 year old with a balloon she instantly wanted one.

Considering a balloon is a weapon to her, i dismissed her request and plonked her in a trolley. Then the blood curdling screams began. I hurried to the back of Kmart to grab my USB card reader and pretty much jogged back to pay and get out of the public eye.

On my way back a woman obviously with nothing else better to do then pull up a chair in a large store and voice her unwanted opinions on to others stopped and proceeded to tell Miss 2 to stop being such a feral child.

HOLD UP.. I, her mother, the one who stored her 10+lbs body in my stretched to buggery stomach then gave birth to her in an unimaginably 8 minutes.. can call her a feral child.

But you lady, can not call her feral.

And i told her as much.

She then let me know that she obviously got her attitude from her foul mother and in her words 'Thank the heavens above this child was one of a kind' .. i could have knocked this woman right off her feet is she wasnt as old as my nan and i could afford to pay for damages to the biscuit stand behind her. So i gave her 'that look' and hustled my still screaming child to the nearest register. Again, back to my car to sob.

This brings me to today.

A simple trip to the shop to pick up a phone and dish washing liquid. Seems simple enough? didnt bother dressing up, just chucked on a clean cardigan and tied my hair back.

Dish washing liquid- Check.. 15 minutes to kill untill Telstra opens. Lets hit the in-shop play ground.

Straight away Miss 2 was the balloon her Mr 2 friend has. Which there were no more anywhere to be found.

Full-on-lay-down-feet-kicking-coughing-tanty. I simply turnde my head and ignored her.

Along comes the not so wise woman.

'Oh dear, you look exhausted.. do you only have the 2?'

'No, i have 3'

Oh! what were you thinking dear, with a child like that, i would have stopped at 1..'

'Do you have children?'

'No, ive enjoyed my life'

-Awkward silence-

'Hey! little girl.. that's enough!'

'Thanks, i can handle it..'

'Single mother?'

'No.. I can handle this'

-Awkward silence- .. waiting for her to leave..

'Well obviously not my dear. you look like you used to be a pretty woman, look what these kids have dont to you'

' Im just tired'

' You know what you need? An eye brow wax, a hair brush , a bit of make up and you will be back to looking like a pretty lady again'

'Wow, thanks'

'Your welcome, Bye now.. Be good for your mother children'

So i pile my kids in to the trolley, that must make use look even more poor then she has already assumed, we march up to Telstra where i yell over there screaming, pick up the phone, march back to my car and lay my head on my steering wheel and sob.

Now im back home in a headspin.. kids in bed hopefully for the rest of the day.. (Wishes) Kicking myself for not buying that block of chocolate to drowned myself in.

Why must people pick on me??!!??

Blogging = Cleansing.

I dont know why it is.. But when i dont blog.. i feel like my body is holding clutter??

Weird or what!

Like ive had no release or connection to the outside world on something we can mutually agree on.. I love connecting with others and hearing 'You read my mind' Or 'exactly what i was thinking!' It makes me feel 'normal'. Like my thoughts aren't some crazy lady taking over my brain.

The past few weeks have been rough in my little house. My kids are fighting more, my husband is yelling more, im crying more. Vomiting my feelings all over my personal page. Screaming for help basically.

Wanting my friends to know im struggling. Im not good at voicing my needs to anyone, so my stupid cryptic messages are my way of asking.

I dont know why my house is like this. I really dont.

I dont lock myself away all day sewing neglecting my kids, im lucky to actually sew one thing while my husband is at work. And when he gets home at 5.30 its dinner bath bed and book time, so i dont sew then either! The kids are in bed at 6pm , 6.30pm and 7 pm Im not far off 7.30pm.

I take my journal to bed to write everything im feeling down , once thats out and im not so mentally stimulated i usually fall asleep with my glasses on.

I was asked on Sunday at The Upper Market how on earth i sew, blog, have time for my page and have 3 kids bathed and fed.. I honestly didnt have an answer.

I kept putting it back on my best friend, saying she helps me.

I usually brain storm through the week, draw pictures in my journal then on a Tuesday i cut patterns and put them all in my expandable folder ready to be sewn on a Friday when im kid free. But honestly, on a Friday all i want it a doona, a cuppa, Ellen and chocolate!

But, if i dont sew, i start going Coo-Coo.. So-i-sew.

There are times when i want to throw it all in. Where i wonder if its really worth the pressure of keeping up with the other pages. Pages begging and screaming for more fans. Pages giving there all there stock away simply to reach that certain number. As much as i love seeing new faces around, simply so i can have fresh views on my raw and controversial blogs, I will give away what i can, when i want. Not a gazzilion things just to 'keep up'

At the moment i have a Bunnie up for grabs. Shes been sitting there for a few weeks now. Waiting for a new home, but she will go when shes ready. I set the bar at 1,500 So i didnt have to part with her to soon *Wink* Nasty.. i know.

Totally off topic.. Its been SO SO long since ive spent time with a good bunch of friends. Tonight id planned to go to the screening of Bridesmaids with a bunch of girls. Dont know what went wrng there.. but were not going.

Ive become so anti social.

I think facebook gives you the feeling of not having to make a 'real' effort because there is always an alternative. There are comments , PMs, likes.. You dont have to actually pick up the phone and talk because there is chat.

I used to have play groups at my house every fortnight. Where we would bring a plate, or drink or sweet bun , lay a blanket down in the back yard and chat for an hour. God i miss those days!!

Meeting randoms in the mothers room at the shop and planning to meet again the next week. Same mothers room, same time. These days shopping trips is running in to coles bear foot praying to higher powers no one seeing your Vegemite covers kids. Never mind the fact you haven't showered... and ...you have no bra on...

Always the second you run in to the high school bully...

I desperately need to get back in to the real world.

I need to learnt to be able to talk to others, with my voice, not my key board.

My markets are a huge soul cleanser for me. Talking to people face to face. I'm nervous as all hell, its exhausting, but i sleep well that night.

So im making a decision on behalf of myself, my brain thats telling me to not bother and my teeth that are chattering because its been so long since ive spent one on one time with anyone else aside from my family and best friend.

I will re launch these 'Mama Days'

Coffee and scoffing our faces.

Im located the northern end of the gold coast - Coomera.

We have some great parks are here and my garage is a rumpus room..

Im welcoming you in to my real life.

Just bring you.. your kid/s if you have them and a pillow.

♥