I've Got Designer Genes.

When I was eleven or so, my dad and I were having one of those talks about what I was going to be when I grew up. I don't remember exactly what I said to him, but I remember at one point he told me I had 'designer genes'. I remember being shocked, since I was sure I didn't own a pair of designer jeans at all! Much later, it became clear to me what he meant, and that it was true.

My parents are both designers - my dad is an industrial designer and my mom is a photographer. My brothers are also both designers. In my early teens, I tried to rebel against design. You see, I wanted to be an artist, like my grandfather. I wanted to use pure mediums like charcoal and wear oil paint stains on my clothes and go around smelling of terpentine, like a real artist should! I wanted to roll up my sleeves and mix my own sweat and tears into my work; only then could I consider myself a true artist.

After art school, what did I end up doing? I became a graphic designer. And after that? A fashion designer. My dad was right - I really do have designer genes. It's undeniably genetic.

Now that I'm a mom, I am curious as anything about what my kids will grow up to be. They have such an interesting mix of creative genes in them! Next to all the artsy folk in my own family, my husband is the result of an artistic gene-pool as well (which is incidentally probably why we accept one another's eccentric behavior; we're just used to it). He is a professional musician and his parents were both artists.

Both of us can't help but assume our children will be artistic in one way or another when they grow up. Heck, they already are! My daughter Mia was able to draw with a crayon before she could even feed herself, and my son Bram can beat out a rhythm with his bottle that would make Steve Gadd green with envy.

When Bram plays a tune on the keyboard, Mia starts doing arabesques. And when they're finished, they applaud for themselves. They're natural-born performers.

When Mia wants a new dress, she will skip into my studio and point out exactly which fabrics she wants, how many pleats she wants and which trimmings she wants it to be trimmed with. Her gift for styling at three-and-a-half just blows me away.

When Bram empties out his box of blocks, he immediately begins constructing the world's most inconceivably high tower. He's two years old, and he has a dream.

When Mia sees anything that even remotely resembles a flower, she goes ape. She cannot resist the temptation to pluck even the teeniest weed or dead bit of grass if she thinks it would look nice in a bouquet. Her eye for composition is astounding.

But there are also times when my kids are about as artistic as a sack of potatoes. When Bram tries to paint, he seems to think the object of the activity is to throw as many paintbrushes as he can on the ground and then run all over the paper while giggling madly. And when Mia was recently introduced to the concept of painting Easter Eggs, she was much more interested in how quickly she could make them spin them around till they rolled off the table and broke. (Needless to say, we had a lot of egg salad sandwiches that day.)

I have to remind myself, they are still kids. They are doing what all kids are doing at the same age, so before I go and declare how amazingly artistically-inclined they are, I should probably take a step back and just let them do what they think they're doing, namely, making a mess and having a really good time in the process.

And at the end of the day, who knows, they might just both grow up to be accountants. Which is absolutely fine with me...as long as they're accountants with a passion for music and flower-arranging, that is.

A 'Mamapreneur' in the making

Last summer I finally made a life long dream come true.

As a kid, I had this dream of owning my own shop. I would transform my room into a store all the time. I put price tags on my teddy bears, created my own promotional material, even turned a My Little Pony notebook into a booklet of receipts. Once I managed to get my parents and brothers to visit my 'shop', I relished the moment when I could place their purchases into one of my handmade totes, add a handwritten receipt and say 'Come again soon!' as they walked out the door.

The dream has been growing, gnawing, itching and festering inside me for years. As a grown-up, I was conditioned to do the responsible thing, which was to find a real job instead of pursuing the dream. As a result, the dream got pushed back into the realms of the 'If Only' category of my mind. The dream kept me awake at night. The dream followed be everywhere. The dream wouldn't let me go.

In the years that followed, events beyond my control took place that inspired (or perhaps forced) me to take a career leap from freelance graphic designer to fashion designer. I went to work full-time at an international fashion concern designing clothes for girls 7-14 and loved it while it lasted.

Things changed again almost four years ago when I gave birth to my daughter, Mia Leentje. 19 months later, my son Bram came along. Suddenly I was no longer a nine-to-five career gal, I was a mom. I was no longer researching the latest trends on WGSN; I was researching educational childrens' programming, sterilizing bottles and installing car seats. I couldn't see how I could ever become an entrepreneur with two toddlers running around the house in need of my constant care and undivided attention. The dream had to take its place even further back in my subconscious, so far back I almost forgot what the dream was.

Don't get me wrong! Being a mom is the best thing ever. Being a mom is what finally made the dream come back to life. When I had to stop working at the big fashion concern due to a knee injury, I found myself facing the deep, bottomless pit of unemployment and disability. According to the local unemployment agency, there was not a single job in the region that I was qualified for, or rather, that was qualified for me. One day my job coach suggested I start my own business. They would even foot the bill for a specialist to help me write my business plan! I was tickled pink - the dream went from the back burner to front and center faster than I could say 'chamber of commerce'.

So here I am, a half a year later, owner of my very own online shop where I sell my very own line of upcycled kidswear. Somehow I am managing to combine my professional expertise, motherhood and the dream into something tangible and real. I'm not just an entrepreneur, I'm a 'mamapreneur'.

I am working towards the next stage of my dream, which is to open an actual shop where I can hold workshops, create garments for my customers in an in-house studio and can actually say 'Enjoy, and come again soon!' instead of having to write it in an e-mail. Now, I run a virtual shop, which makes it possible to balance the amount of time I work with the amount of time I spend with my kids. I'm still a long way away from paying the mortgage on the profits, but hey, at least I won't have to quit my day job. Now that the dream is a reality, there's simply no stopping it.