afternoon

Spontaneity is not my forte. It seems it's not Che's either. It only took him a few leaf runs and a bit of encouragement though and he was into the afternoon stroll. His three-year-old mood swings are daily occurrences at the moment and no doubt it must be challenging, knowing that within a few weeks, he'll be a big bro. He's excited though, asking when the baby is going to arrive, wondering why it can't be right now. "I don't like waiting," he says. But wait we must.

Thank you for all your lovely comments on Daniel's film. And I must say that credit for the superbly knit vest goes to my mum, who Che calls "Mama." He calls me "Muma" and yes, it can be a little confusing but he likes it that way. My knitting skills are completely amateur but I feel lucky to have a Mum who can, when time allows, pass on her knowledge of the needles.

For gorgeous newish blog goodness, visit Claire - muma/photographer/stylist at one claire day

nourished, nurtured

With the arrival of winter I've been feeling a little weary. Perhaps burnt-out would be a better term to use. My almost-two-year-old is still breastfeeding and it feels like he's taking all my stores. And so I've upped my iron intake and I'm taking twice-daily doses of liquid gold. If anything it's a reminder that I need to take good care of myself. This reminds me of something this inspiring lady once said. "Mothers constantly look after the people around them and far too often they forget about themselves. I realised when I was a mother of three young children that I had to start looking after myself otherwise I wouldn't be able to Mother". It was something along those lines. Inspiring all the same.



The weather has been gloomy of late, small snippets of sunshine poking through to tease us out from our homes. Yes winter is here but it's still not that cold. Just a little chilly. The ocean is still warm and nice to dip our toes in.

I'm enjoying the rhythm of the season. The slow days and the early nights. Also the wider eyes and faster feet of Ché. We explore together now. Wandering, digging, making peppermint and mud pies on the verandah. It's special. I think I'm finally adjusting to motherhood - looking after a family and a home. It's peaceful here right now. The little one quietly plays, the Dada hums to the music and I potter and bake. There's blooms on the table and beautiful scents filling the air. Despite the tiredness I feel nourished and nurtured. Life is just as it should be.

asteya

The focus for my pre-natal classes at the moment is asteya or letting go of greed. Being in the here, the now, not wishing or grasping for the journey to end. Enjoying the present moment...just being. I'm re-reading Buddhism for Mothers at the moment and it is so much more relevant now that Che is a little more grown. I'm nodding my head to almost every sentence and finding comfort in the suggestions for thought and practice. Especially mindfulness.

I especially like the suggestion to tell yourself what your doing throughout your day. The affirmation really has the power to almost throw you into the present. Yesterday I began talking to myself. In the best possible way. At the close of the day I felt nourished. And nurtured.

I taught a yoga class, cooked a chicken casserole, swept the balcony, tended to my herbs, read with Ché, made the beds...and spent two hours in a day spa. It surprised me that even as I was being wrapped in amazonian nut mud I still had to tell myself to relax. "I am relaxing."

It's quite liberating to be in the moment, constantly expanding your awareness of where you are and what you're doing. To actually be mothering instead of chasing time, children and chores.

I am writing

i don't know where i'd be if i had never found yoga

I truly don't know where I'd be. Along with my mum's encouragement and my deep desire to finally finally finally do something for the goodness of my body I attended my first yoga class at 10am on a Monday morning, a few weeks before my 21st birthday.

I was in the throes of ending a long and destructive relationship. A relationship that was wrong for so many reasons. It was difficult to escape from and when I did I was physically and emotionally exhausted.

I remember walking, waif-like, across the studio floor. I was 46kg but I felt heavy. Music, something like this, was playing softly and nag champa was filling the air. I sat down, cross-legged, and waited for the class to begin.

The teacher, Mardi, sat in front of the class and led us through a short relaxation. She asked us to breathe. Through our nose and into our belly. I felt tears prick my eyes because within a few minutes I realised that I hadn't felt the breath in my body for so long. It felt like I hadn't breathed in three years. I hadn't been in my body.

I continued to attend that Monday morning class. And then one class a week wasn't enough. I started going twice, three times, sometimes four times a week. I began to notice contentment within myself. Happiness. And strength. Physically and mentally. I felt light. I was experiencing a change within me. And subsequently, a change around me. I became aware of my body and my self. How truly wonderful it is to breathe deep and move your body, flowing, through a series of energising postures. I was flowing.

I cancelled a trip to London and enrolled in yoga teacher training instead. I stayed at an ashram for two weeks and lived yoga. Rising with the sun to awaken my body with gentle yoga practices and breathing techniques. Eating vegetarian wholefood and finding beauty in simplicity - like an om symbol etched into the ground.

I felt new. Refreshed. Revived. All those wonderful things.

I am always so grateful to my Mum for guiding me in the direction of the studio at that time. Mardi, my first yoga teacher at that Monday morning yoga class is now my mother-in-law. If I hadn't have found yoga, and discovered awareness and contentment and goodness within me, I wonder if I would have found Daniel. On the eve of Mother's Day I am ever so thankful for the synchronicity that led me to the studio that day and for the ongoing journey I am on. Because yoga changed me. And now I am a Mother. To a baby yogi who holds his hands in prayer at hridaya mudra, his heart space, and says namaste the spirit within me honours and respects the spirit within you.

Happy Mother's Day.
Your Mother is your first teacher.
Always.
Perhaps your Mother is your first
Guru

Inspired by Yoga and Me

cafe racer

I never thought I'd be a bikie-kinda-girl. But ever since this thirty-year-old beauty arrived in our garage I have warmed to the idea of cafe racing. You see it's a 1978 Yamaha SR500. My Dad worked on them when they were first released in England. Daniel bought it, imported a whole load of parts from Japan and turned it into a cafe racer. It's beautiful to look at but slightly uncomfortable to ride. Hence its name. You don't ride on long journeys - you race from cafe to cafe.

My helmet arrived on Thursday and a few hours later I hopped on the back and held on tight. I felt safe with Daniel riding and I loved it more than I first thought. But when we got home my toes were numb and I started searching ebay for a leather jacket. Apparently you are never warm on a bike - it's the adrenalin that keeps you going. I think I want a gorgeous jacket over speed and adrenalin. Just like I want a cappuccino over a beer.

I guess I really am a cafe racer kinda girl.

birthday wishes are so nice

Thank you for all those beautiful well-wishes. My 25th was wonderful. The most amazing flowers from my secret admirer (a.k.a Daniel), gorgeous gifts and yummy food. It was memorable. I loved every minute.

My birthday week coincided with Ché's 18-month-birthday and the little one has started walking. Two hands in front of him, all Frankenstein-esque, he's stumbling around like a little drunk. So sweet and yet heartbreaking. Because he looks like a little boy. It hit me really hard. It still shocks me how deeply I'm connected to him. Last night he cuddled into me as I read him his new favourite story. Just before he nuzzled in for a before-bed feed he said to me: "Muma, oh Muma."

Precious.

on the eve

tomorrow i turn 25. i'm definitely not 21 anymore. in saying that i do like the number twenty-five. i like the way it sounds, i like the way it looks.

most importantly i like the way it feels.

i'm approaching 25 with a spring in my step and a strawberry in my hand. I feel more comfortable and more content in my skin that i have ever felt before.

on this birthday i will celebrate with my boys. the one i fell in love with shortly after the above photo was taken. and the precious little munchkin we made together. there will be a special breakfast with friends and dinner with family. and a saturday night date with d. there will be chocolate too. perhaps some fresh blooms and a ribbon or two.

i will miss a few girls though. those crazy girls who have been there on the last six birthdays. the ones who always dress-up and have fun. who make me laugh. a few are busy in Sydney and the others are under the cherry blossoms in Japan. Yes girls, have a sake for me.

i love birthdays.