The end of summer.

Playgroup.

We went to a playgroup this morning. Organised by the local YWCA, it is a little different to a Mother's Group. In this case, the YWCA fill their space with toys, craft activities, trampolines, costumes, puzzles and more and make it available to local children and their parents for a small fee.

The morning is structured with one hour of free play, followed by a little morning tea and a quick storytime. All together, it goes for almost two hours. Parents are asked to provide a piece of fruit to add to the morning tea and there is an opportunity to make a little biscuit there, which is baked in their oven just before sitting down.

We went for the first time this morning, escaping a heavy downpour on the way there. Hugo had a blast, grinning from ear to ear, shaking his little fists in the air and crawling from one play area to the next. He isn't really scared of anyone and crawls right into the middle of other children's activities or onto the lap of other mothers. Unfazed, he looks around to locate me and gets back to business.

Watching him, I feel a torrent of pride for this little boy who is trusting, affectionate and curious, but his vulnerability fills me with emotion as well. It's hard letting go, even if it's just a tiny little bit.

During morning tea, all the children were sitting at a long table on little plastic chairs. They each had a plate with little pieces of fruit on them. Hugo sat there, barely tall enough to see over the edge of the table but he ate his little fruit quietly and neatly. Once in a while, he would grab the arm of the little girl who was sitting on his right. She was a fair bit older and didn't like him touching her so she would push his hand off whenever he got too close.

I told her that he was just saying hello and asked her if he was hurting her. I said that it was OK if she didn't want him to touch her but asked her to be gentle. I find it hard to know how to interact with other people's children and I suppose I'll be learning as Hugo does, trying to find the right balance of support, encouragement, independence and resilience.

Once he had eaten his fruit, I lifted him out of his chair. Somehow he managed to grab the biscuit off the plate on his left. The little girl had left the table and the mother didn't mind him taking it. We sat down while he ate someone else's biscuit. I held him on my lap. He looked around as he chewed away, completely unfazed by the little girl who pushed him away, the older kids who snatched toys from him, the big room full of strangers. From the safe haven of my loving arms and lap, all he could see was opportunity. 

Hitting my stride or hitting a wall?

One year into motherhood and I feel that I am hitting my stride. Daily life doesn't seem as confusing or unpredictable anymore.

I enjoy most days and most moments of each day.

I enjoy Hugo's company and find him an easy and pleasant companion.

I take pleasure in getting through a succession of meals, errands, naps, walks, playtimes and so on.

I find it a beautiful, at times challenging and absolutely rewarding life.

BUT I think that I see it as a refuge too. A refuge from real life and having to once again figure out where I fit in professionally.

I watch my confidence as a mother grow at the same rate as my professional confidence crumbles.

I think about getting back to work but I feel numb, dazed, like my brain is half-asleep.

The longer I stay away, the more inadequate and incompetent I feel.

And of course, the longer I stay away, the harder it is to go back. It becomes hard to be ambitious, let alone competitive.

I do want to write and I want to make money from it.

I need to realise that I can feel confident in more than one way.

Life with Hugo and work are not mutually exclusive. I know it for a fact since I have done it. Just not much lately.

And yet, I forget. I am doing it and still feel like I am not, like it doesn't count.

I need to take comfort in my confidence as a mother and use it as a source of energy to move forward professionally.

I need to stop confusing being scared and being dumb. I am one but not the other.

It's time to get moving because I know that despite the stress and pressure it adds, it will make me feel better. It will make me feel good. 

The 'almost' house.

We almost bought a house today. Really, we were this close to making the highest offer but we let it slip and although we'll always remember it as the 'almost' house, I think we did the right thing. We'll never really know, will we?

We've been looking at houses for a little while. At first, in a fairly abstract and distant way, just getting a sense of what's around. Recently though, we've been looking with intent. We have a fairly good idea of what we need (which is slightly different to what we want) and a reasonable idea of what we can spend.

Soon enough, we have had to start making compromises, mainly on location. Luckily, houses around Newcastle are relatively affordable (compared to Sydney) but unfortunately, the area we prefer and where we have been living is fairly out of reach. So we've enlarged our perimeter and started finding houses that could tick boxes. Spacious, backyards, garage, in need of some renovation (architects, remember?).

Last week-end, we visited five houses. Locations, prices and condition varied a fair bit but there was one we liked more than the others. It had stuff going for it. It was the right amount of bad: liveable for a short period with good potential for a substantial renovation in a couple of years. It was spacious, it had a backyard, it was in a good location, right across from a nice park. It had some charm and large bay windows, stained glass around the front door, high ceilings... but above all else, it had what we are referring to as "the barn".

The Barn is a double story shed/garage at the back of the site. Clad with corrugated steel, it has a cool industrial look and with several windows all around it, it is screaming out to be transformed into a fantastic guest loft / artist studio type space. It would be PERFECT for long stay visitors (you know who you are).

The Barn is what is making it so hard to let it go by. The price was almost right but not quite right. It pushed us past the upper limits of our budget and as these things happen very fast, it became overwhelming. Would we be biting off more than we could chew?

This morning we decided that we would be... but damn, as I type this, I am starting to wonder...