twenty-one | practicing simplicity

Living a less-distracted life : observe your children at this busy time and respect that Christmas is both magical and overwhelming for them.

My children are usually quite difficult on Christmas Day. And I wholeheartedly get it. The anticipation and excitement in the lead up is huge; they've slept lightly and risen early. They seem to experience the full range of emotions: elation, happiness, delight, disappointment, anger and sadness. 

Early on in this parenting gig, Daniel and I decided that we would only have one celebration on Christmas day. Going from one set of Grandparents to another was just too much with a baby in tow - it made it stressful and exhausting, despite the fact that it was only a ten minute drive between houses. It's one of the best decisions we've made - both for the children and us (and our Christmas sanity). But still, emotions are high and patience is low. 

In retrospect, my expectations of the children have been unrealistic around Christmas time, especially when it comes to gifts. You see, I want to teach them gratitude but I also want them to be honest. There's a part of me that expects them to absolutely love their gifts and be so very grateful for them, regardless of the fact that they get more presents on that one day than they do for the entire year. We keep it simple but still; they are surrounded by new toys and books - they don't know where to turn.

This year, if need be, we'll stop whatever we're doing to make sure our day is enjoyable. Presents have been kept to a minimum to ensure the overwhelm isn't too great and if I sense the onset of a tantrum I'll know it's time to step away from the crowd and seek a bit of quiet and one-on-one time (cue: reading books in bed with full bellies). 

For us, the days after Christmas are always our favourites. We spend easy mornings at the beach, snack on left-overs and schedule a siesta every afternoon. There are no plans and no expectations; always a relief after the height of the busy season.

So: recognise that it's an overwhelming time for your children. If you make it easier for them you make it easier for yourself, too. 

ps. a few readers have asked what presents the children are getting. Are you interested in a post about lovely, simple gifts I've found along the way?

worth the wait

family photos by alexandrena parker, tim coulson and tamara erbacher / the frames I had been searching for / hydrangeas from the neighbours' gardens

Earlier this year I had the priviledge of walking the streets of Surry Hills with renowned stylist Pia Jane Bijkerk. Along with Gaby, Luisa, Steph and Sophie, we wandered in and out of hidden boutiques and warm, bustling cafes; a gaggle of women chatting under umbrellas. It was grey and wet and reminiscent of a winter's day in Amsterdam; apt considering Pia had spent the past few years living there (on a houseboat!).

We talked about a lot of things that day - motherhood, creativity, photography, birth, food, collecting, curating - but there's one conversation that has stayed with me, one that I've mulled over and subsequently treasured. We discussed slow-consumerism at length, our desire to buy quality over quantity and really love what we bring into our homes. It is to: 

...consume and purchase with absolute mindfulness; 

never settling for something that will 'just do' but waiting, waiting, for the right one to come along...and knowing that it will...

It was an apt discussion, considering I'd already spent eighteen months searching for the perfect picture frames. Our collection of family photos was growing and I wanted to display them above our mantle...but as hard as I tried, I couldn't find anything that was quite right. I'd looked in op-shops, visited my local framers more than once and trawled online stores but alas, nothing. You see, I wanted frames that would be around for years; solid and well-made they needed to be both simple in design and aesthetically pleasing. I wanted a natural timber frame, an off-white matte and a back that was easily removable for when I felt the need to change the photos. 

A few months ago I was scrolling through instagram when I spied some beautiful frames in the background of a friend's photo. One message led to another and I finally discovered the frames online at Corban & Blair. They were exactly what I had envisioned and to make the deal even sweeter they're a carbon neutral product (the timber is sourced from renewable plantations in New Zealand). 

It's a nice feeling to wait for the ideal purchase and then admire it every day (especially when it holds precious family memories). And perhaps it feels so good because I have also experienced the opposite; buying things on a whim only to regret it later. 

scenes in black and blue

/ discovered at the laundry door; sandals with the buckles still done up, a handful of pebbles and a few weeds.

/ another candid shot of him reading. I could create an entire series.

/ the most beautiful package I've ever received, clothes from une belle époque. I waited two days till I opened it. I really appreciate thoughtful little details.

/ my favourite cup; it holds just the right amount of tea (I always leave the teabag in).

/ the seventh book in the Buddha series by Tezuka. He's getting the eighth and final book for Christmas. 

/ the very last drop of juice (our current favourite is orange, carrot, kale and ginger).

/ my current love affair with b+w photography continues. There's a lot I like about this shot; patterns on clothes, afternoon light, one of my favourite scarves drying on the line. But most of all, I love that I captured the children at play. There's 3years and 9months between them and there have been times when I've really noticed the big gap. Lately they have been playing (and fighting) with joy; giggles and raucous laughter ensues.  

scenes in spring
scenes in ginger and green
scenes in blue 

eighteen | practicing simplicity

Living a less-distracted life : when things get tough, come back to the simple.

At around this time every year I go through a phase of reflection; thinking about what has happened and how I've changed. It's like I need to evaluate before I move into the season of celebrations and resolutions.

For a number of reasons, 2013 has been a tough one for me. Nothing particularly shocking or sad, just busy, busy life and its challenges. And I don't think I'm alone in my struggle. Perhaps it's mothers the world over who are confronted by lack of time, growing children and pressing situations. In retrospect, this year has been so hard because it's been overwhelming; I've taken a lot on and sometimes it's been too much. There's been moments of regret and sometimes, shame; those not-so-nice things that stem from busyness and rushing and stress.

But in the midst of it all, I've also had the opportunity to stop and realise that it's not how I want to live and it's not how I want to raise my children. So, I'm prioritising myself and choosing to simplify life. That word, simplicity, has been a constant for me this year and I embrace it because it's good for me. It's good for my mind, for my body, for my home and for my family. It's what I come back to when things are getting out of hand. So what does it mean? For me, it's: 

• making boiled eggs and soldiers for dinner even if the kids have had the exact same meal for breakfast 
• leaving the mess of the house and going to the beach for an hour, even if a deadline is looming
• saying 'no' more often and not feeling guilty about it
• accepting that we live in a family home that is both messy and beautiful (and will always be messy and beautiful)
• admitting that the internet is a major distraction and I need to be mindful of how it seeps my time, energy and patience
• going to bed early, regardless of how much work needs to be done

...and the list goes on. 

Overall, being mindful of the present moment is perhaps the biggest factor in simplifying my life. It is the very essence of yoga; not getting caught up in what has been or what's to come, but being in the here and now, aware of how I'm breathing, what I'm thinking and the words I'm using. I don't do it all the time and yes, it's hard to maintain but I wholeheartedly believe it is good for me and subsequently, good for my family.

So: stop, take a deep breath, come to here and now and focus all of your energy and awareness on what you need to do right now. Simplifying is doing one thing with awareness instead of 10 things mindlessly. 

bali | design

It's easy to miss the details in Bali; there's so much colour and noise that honing in on the subtle doesn't come easily. For me, hiding behind a camera made the details clearer and it was the little things - door frames, lamps, hanging plants - that inspired. 

In Bali almost everything is made by hand and it's evident in most spaces; bamboo, teak, stone and grass combine to, quite literally, create a home. I enjoyed the blend of heavy and light, of vibrant and subdued but most of all I loved the handwoven features - oh the baskets! If only I could have brought them all home. And the plants! In Ubud, green sprouted from stairs and walls and cracks in the pavement. Plants grew from coconut shells and chipped terracotta. Bali's aesthetic is very wabi-sabi.  

ps. can you find Che?

seventeen | practicing simplicity

When you let go of perfectionism, you teach your children responsibility.

I've only had this realisation in the past few weeks and it's been a valuable lesson for me. 

For Che's six years of life I have followed him around; picking up after him, cleaning his room and laying out his clothes*. Daniel has always said that if I do it all for him, he'll never learn for himself, but there's a part of me that enjoys this element of mothering, I enjoy nurturing and creating comfort. And let's face it, it's easier and more productive to do the cleaning, sorting and organising myself. 

However, there's only so much I can do and regardless of how much I clean, children will be children - their rooms are caves for them to retreat to; safe places to create, dream, read and make a really big, glorious mess. My role is to teach them responsibility for their belongings, not to put those belongings back on the shelf. 

And so, while I may place folded washing on the end of the (unmade) bed, I do little else. I encourage a sense of order, I encourage him to take care of his toys and to pile up his books...the rest is up to him (his room is quite messy as a result!). 

There's just no way that parents of two or three or four children can stay on top of bedrooms as well as the entire house. It's just not possible.

So: don't clean their rooms, have a cup of tea instead!

Is it motherly instinct to do everything for your children? How do you teach your children responsibility? 

*But I'll never stop placing their pyjamas on their beds in the evening (wrapped around a hot water bottle in wintertime).

the story of home

chunky knits and a handful of crunch from a neighbour's garden / table vignette including blushing bride, eucalyptus and sweet pea, a scalloped candle holder found at Bayside Vintage and the right amount of beeswax, waiting for a flame / nature comes inside and rests awhile on the windowsill, new books to see me through early winter bedtimes

I'm quickly learning that perfection in the family home is neither achievable or desirable. There will always be clothes to fold, toys to pick up, dry bread crusts under the couch. 

I wiped the table just the other day and noticed Che's handwriting ingrained in the surface; the happiness of such a discovery is still with me. The floorboards in our loungeroom are worn from years of fancy footwork, they need more oil, sometime soon. The paint is starting to chip on doorways and sills but last week I wiped down walls with hot water, bicarb and vinegar and it felt like new - good enough. 

Perfectionism is exhausting and I'm starting to let go of it. We had visitors on Friday and they told me that they loved the "lived-in" feel of our home, its authenticity and comfort...its beautiful imperfections.

I hope you can look around your home today and see the story of your family. 

the seasonal home

"Home is not simply a mark upon a map, anymore than a river's just water. It is the place at the centre of the compass from which every arrow radiates and where the heart is fixed. It's a force that forever draws us back or lures us on. For where the home is there lies hope...and the future waits and everything is possible."
- closing quote from an episode of Call The Midwife

In the past few weeks I've made changes in each room; home has shifted with the seasons in subtle yet essential ways. Two pairs of gumboots sit near the front door in lieu of sandals; scarves and raincoats have replaced beach baskets and sunhats on the coatrack. Each bed now wears flannelette and mohair and wool. 

Whilst the balcony is definitely looking bare and wintry, the kitchen is abundant with muted colour. Pears and apples and pumpkins grace the fruit bowl, oats are favoured over museli and a pillar candle offers ambient light in the evening and early morning. 

I've been thinking about the way a home morphs and expands to fit the growing needs of a family, how baskets fill with blankets and shelves disappear beneath towers of books. In the six years we have been here I have re-arranged each room, making space for both practical and aesthetic purposes. I've added and subtracted in a bid to refresh and rarely have I spent a lot of money; wabi-sabi is my constant inspiration. Changing the way things look ultimately affects the mood of the home; our little abode is currently telling a winter story of warmth, cosiness and early nights. 

What seasonal changes do you make in your home? 

Next week I'll be working with stylist Stefanie Ingram on a little series about creating beautiful vignettes with simple, everyday items. I hope you'll pop back to see what we come up with...  

by the sea

Poet on our local beach in her sweet arti pants / aztec storm scarf in ocean hues c/o scout & catalogue

We live near the ocean and its palette of sea spray, salt and sand. This is, and always has been, home. But lately we've been thinking about leaving; packing up and searching for a different scene.

I'm equally challenged and inspired by the thought of moving. But I've noticed, in the past year or so, that I'm ready for change; I want to live differently, if only for a while. At the very top of our priority list is the family experience - we want to immerse ourselves in a new pace, a culture unlike our own. 

At times like this our true nature comes to the surface. Daniel, the keen adventurer, is researching and making lists whereas I'm procrastinating, wondering what it will be like to leave everything I've known and leap into a very new way of living. 

In the midst of it all I've been wondering; why do people live where they do? No doubt work is one of the main deciding factors, as is proximity to family and affordability. But what about lifestyle priorities, rare opportunities, a simple desire to live your ideal.

Why do you live where you do? 

storytellers

Tim, Kesh and Roo popped in for a visit yesterday. It's only five weeks till The Creatives and we're putting the finishing touches on the day, working out the finer details to ensure it will all flow beautifully. We're really excited to share what we know about storytelling with photos and words. 

Today I met with a talented friend of mine who will create the menu. We have a wholesome, nourishing meal planned for lunchtime as well as some sweet treats for afternoon tea. I'm thinking a range of herbal teas will be in order, with beautiful teacups to sip from. 

To those of you who are already booked - I can't wait to meet you!  And for those interested in attending, I still have a few places free. Email me for details: jodiclairewilson @ yahoo.com.au

Photo by Tim: Poet guards an autumnal array of cheese and fruit. My beautiful 1940s French bread board was sourced by Alison from Bayside Vintage.