werk werk werk werk werk

Since popping out these babies, work wise, I've tried many different set ups. I worked part-time (out of the home), I didn't work at all, I set up a business and became a self employed WFHM (work from home Mum). Being self employed and working from home and around your kids timetable is a blessing and a curse. Actual work time is sparse when you don't earn enough to pay for childcare, and when you have no childcare you can't work or earn enough. Yay!

Believe it or not this is not a #grumblebrag post (made that up but feel like it's a winner), but a post about how sometimes the work you can manage in those tiny pockets of naps and bedtimes can make you feel like a motherfuckin superhero.

I love my job. I think about it and plan for it and look forward to it the way someone who doesn't get to do it enough should. I worry about it too; about my lack of marketing and clients and generally getting out there. I basically beat myself up about not getting enough done whilst full time parenting, even though, I'm full time parenting so DUH. There is always a little niggling fear that I'm missing my time, my place in the world to do more of what I should be doing. I'm ready for that voice to pack up and do one.

The things is (and as a Brit and a woman saying this doesn't come naturally) I think I'm really good at what I do. I deeply love photographing families. Photographing connections. It brings be peace and joy and satisfaction. I think I'm offering something a little different, something a little special. But selling that? Selling myself is not my strong point. So whilst I know I'll get there, I mean, I have to get there because we need to eat, the journey can feel rough.

...

I've been thinking a little about motivation lately, about comparison and competition and inspiration. Last year I read this piece about those things in relation to women, about how women are not encouraged to be competitive with one another and what bullshit that is.

'Why shouldn’t women be competitive? If you had told me that some magazine was eliminating the Best Dressed ranking or the Most Beautiful top 100 list, I could get with that rationale. Because encouraging competition over clothes and/or physical appearance can be problematic. But the power list is supposed to be based on achievement and accomplishment. And why shouldn’t women compete with their heads, compete by achievement and accomplishment? In taking away this list, does it mean that women aren’t capable of being competitive when the competition is about THE WORK?!? That women can’t handle the pressure AT WORK?'

I loved it at the time and was reminded of it yesterday with this follow up. I have a friend who is sooooo good at the business hustle. Extremely good at what she does. She works hard and imaginatively and it is so inspiring to me. I love when we get to talk business and geek out, and it made me realise how I need more of that. More conversation and support and motivation from women who are out there hustling. Because it's quite honestly magic to watch.

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The last few weeks have been good work wise. Great even. I've found the two magic ingredients for a little work hustle - time and inspiration. Those two occurrences, simultaneously, are rare. Sometimes you need to write down and own the shit you have managed to do, so here is mine;

• I updated my website with images that I really love, regardless of what I think others might like
• I wrote about family photography and why I want to do it a little differently
• I shared some tips for taking your own photographs at home
• I started a google adwords campaign
• I'm actually updating my facebook business page
• hashtagging the shit out of instagram (which lead to my first insta-booking!)

There are always other things I need to do. A list that is added to with not much crossed off. I need to learn about SEO. I need to market myself. I need to get better at pushing through that uncomfortable-ness and sell myself. I'll get there.

In the meantime, the above is a pretty good start.

(and now for some random photos of my kids I took using tinfoil around the lens. obvi.)

Spring

That magic thing has started to happen in the mornings... it is light even before the baby wakes. The difference in my bones when I'm pulling myself out of bed, in to a world that feels like it's opening up, compared to the utter bullshit-ness of heaving myself out and stumbling into darkened quiet, is deep and reasurring.

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I had forgotten the places the light pools in the house; where the streams of light pour in making warm puddles where we can bask, pretending its warmer than it is and that everything is ok in the world.

Yesterday I went to hide. The day and the noise and the feelings were overwhelming me so I quietly, heavily, plodded to the bedroom. I had forgotten about the bedroom in spring. The golden light of sunset floods it with a warm magic that never ceases to stun me momentarily. I crawled in to the sliver of golden and looked out the window. The blue sky fading in to pink, then orange.

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The toddler has learnt about the sky, now that she can see it. 'Sky!', she yells excitedly. 'Boo!' I push her on the swings and she stretches her arms out the the never-ending blueness above her, giddy in her joy. It's infectious.

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There is light in the garden again. We only get sunshine there from March to September and it is back. For that one hour or so, most days we rush out to meet it. It's only partial sunshine, but there's enough to feel the earth wakening around us in it's presence. We have a bubble obsession going on right now, so we blow them up, up, up into the clear blue. SKY! Arla yells after them. And then FACE! when one unexpectedly lands on her. they sparkle and glow and then pop with a twinkling burst. The air is full of sunshine and laughter.  Even I can feel the magic.

...

Spring is here.

Six {Moments from Motherhood}

This week, our baby boy turned Six.

Every year on or around his birthday, I take some photographs. It's nice to have something taken at the exact same time every year to look back on, seeing the big and little changes in him. At the moment though, he is having a very hard time with me taking his photo. And quite honestly, this boundary is one I struggle with. I mean, duh, right? Taking photographs in general is so soothing for me, it's how i step back and process. And my children and my practicing of this art are inextricably intertwined. It's something I'll need to think about more as they grow. 

This year my first attempt at taking a few photos did not go well. I suggested going out in the garden after school, and just quickly having a few portraits. Quick and painless and done in 5. Good plan right? WRONG. I mean firstly, I should have realised my mistake when I suggested after school. Nothing good happens straight after school. EVER. It is typically the time of tiredness and surly behaviour and retreat. Secondly, I very, very rarely suggest taking photos as the sole purpose of anything. I had clearly lost my mind that day. We went to the garden, and he got mad at me and I got mad at him and it was a disaster. After roughly 3 minutes, we gave up.

The next day, we decided to head to the beach for sunset. No mention of photos, just him in his favourite place, hanging out. I packed my camera and knew that if I kept my distance and let him just be, I could probably get a few shots. I had forgotten how immersed in this place he becomes, how much he just wants to explore and run and be free. He didn't even notice my camera. He showed me rock pools and quick sand and bubbling water and waves. They are him being him. Him being Six.

..........................

I've been having feeeeeelings about Six for the past month or two. It started bubbling up when I would get the usual, casual question of 'How old are your kids?'. I would reply 'Well Sachin is 5, but almost 6, like a few weeks away you know, so really yeah, you know, almost Six I guess? Did I say that already?' Generally coming off as a crazy person.

I can't quite put my finger on it, what the feelings involved actually are. Or maybe there are just too many to narrow it down. There's no sadness, no feelings of loss of baby; he hasn't been that for a long time, and obviously he will always be our baby. But there is a change. A shifting that feels considerable and profound. We're leaving the '5 and under' category and hand in hand we're walking out of those first five years where so much happened, onto the next. 

In those five years I started to navigate this all new terrain called Motherhood, with maternity leave, then returning to work and then staying at home and then working from home. No wonder I was tired, I'm exhausted just writing it down. I travelled the ups and downs, the 'fuck this is hard' times and the 'wow this more beautiful than I imagined life could be' times. Quite honestly, the changes in me are probably too deep and subtle and far-reaching to list. I have learnt more about myself than at any other time in my life so far. I know, I know, how cliched can you get right? But seriously, becoming a round the clock provider for a tiny, dependent human will teach you stuff. Like how it is physically (but not emotionally) possible to survive on 2 hours sleep, or how after asking your kid to put some clothes on for the 5,768th time today your patience well isn't quite as deep as you assumed it would be. How strong and capable and fragile and vulnerable I can be, sometimes all at once. I learnt how central my career is to my sense of self, and what a loss of independence I could feel no longer earning my own money. I realised how screwed up the whole system is and how woman are geared to lose within it. Maybe I'll write about that stuff some time, clearly I have have thoughts. 

But back to this shared journey. My husband and I were thrown head first into getting to know each other as parents and this little baby we had made. We travelled together, always looking forward, holding each other through the harder times and immersing ourselves in those incredible highs. Becoming a three, and then later a four - building our family and making it strong and secure. Those five years are when Sachin grew and learned and evolved so much in such a short space of time, unrecognisably changing from a tiny helpless newborn to a boy who is articulate, sensitive, intelligent and kind.

So here we are at Six. The next age bracket. There is still new terrain of course. New challenges and emotions and subjects to tackle. Rather than teaching him to walk and talk or not eat sand, we're having discussions about friendship or the universe, or death and Harry Potter. There is so much pleasure in exploring these things with him, seeing his joy at discovering something he never knew before, the wonder of reading for pleasure or learning about galaxies far, far away. Tonight he read his school book about archaeology to me, telling me about the first humans 600,000 years ago, and asking me if I was impressed with his knowledge (pronounced know-ledge). I was baby, I always am. There is also the odd gut wrenching pain, when the realisations that come with growing up hit him, and hit me fresh as I see them through his eyes, and feel them with a sense of pain that wasn't there before kids. Like how death is inevitable. I know we'll have more of those as the years go on, but I guess all we can do is explore it together and talk and talk and talk some more. And be here. A steady supply of homemade cake will go far too, I hope.

My husband and I have been talking about this next stage a little bit, about these new subjects, the physical changes that will happen to our little boy over the coming years together. How we'll try to teach S about the world and his body and relationships and life, man. The wondrous and dizzying and complicated stuff. The nitty gritty. It's all gonna be there.

This journey we've been on together so far has taken us to many amazing places. It's only going to get better. Here's to Six, and the new places we'll go.

I C E L A N D // Part 3, The Golden Circle

Iceland Part 1, Part 2.

If you ever go to Iceland, or know someone who has, you will at some point hear about The Golden Circle. It's (mostly) made up of Þingvellir National Park,  Gullfoss waterfall and Geysir.
After our mammoth roadtrip, this seemed like it would be a piece of cake. And thank the heavens, it was! Again we followed the route on i heart Reykjavik and added on Gamla Laugin (The Secret Lagoon) and Kerid volcainc crater.

A note on Lagoons... Everyone knows about the iconic Blue lagoon in Iceland. It is the internets dream place, every photo taken there is the money shot, it seems. And as amazing as it looks, I found myself with little interest in going. I have no idea why, as if you know me it seems like absolutely my kind of thing - 1) beautiful 2) B L U E 3) hella photographic. And yet.... meh. After researching I'd heard that it was very expensive and always packed full of people, and the idea I had of Iceland was a quieter one. Plus paying so much for 2 kids who may not like it also seemed a bit of a bummer. Knowing that there would be ample opportunity for wild swimming and finding an alternative called The Secret Lagoon, I convinced my husband it was the right thing. We visited The Secret Lagoon on our 9th day and up until that point he was still *this close* to booking us a spot at the Blue Lagoon most days. Then we had this amazing trip which ended up at The Secret Lagoon and we knew it would never compare. It is natural and breathtaking and just an amazing slice of Iceland. I'm not saying go don't go to the Blue Lagoon, but do Gamla Laugin first/as well.

This is an ideal trip with (or without) kids. There are regular stops, wide open spaces, limited time in the car. And so much beauty. We did this trip in a day, setting off at a decent time and spending a glorious few hours at bedtime swimming the lagoon. You can really make the trip as long or as short as you want depending on stops. The Þingvellir National Park is amazing, you could easily spend the whole day here wandering and picnicing. It would also be an epic place to camp. Also the toilets at the visitors centre are the most picturesque place to wee ever, so go do that.

And did I mention The Secret Lagoon yet? No? At the end of the day we arrived around 7pm. We weren't sure what to expect or how the kids would be seeing as it was technically bedtime, so when we rocked up to this little quiet place in the middle of a small village, we had no expectations. We got changed in the little wooden cabin and walked through to the pool. It was beautiful. Go scroll down and look at the pictures. See? We all sunk in, and it was honestly just magical. The heat and the surroundings, the golden light and the hushed hum of everyone relaxing...It did something to us, to the kids. They were in a little trance like us. Sach was the most beautiful I have ever seen him. His face flushed rosy red from the water, he spent hours collecting the algea from around the pool and piling it up, happily chatting to himself. Arla was half asleep, happy to be held and whooshed through the water, us passing her back and forth so we could swim around and float and breathe. It was the highlight of this trip. Of this year. It's become my happy place,and sometimes I find myself wistfully thinking about it and pretending I'm there (instead of making this weeks 543rd meal).

So here it is, The Golden Circle.