Multi-taskin' Mama

If there's one thing I learned being a Mom, it's that you can't survive without the ability to multi-task. That is what I do, although I am admittedly not very good at it.

You see, next to being a mamapreneur, trying to educate the world the benefits of upcycling clothing, I am trying to be a rock star too. But when I am doing one creative thing, it's tough to do another creative thing simultaneously without causing some kind of injury to myself. I have been working on another blog to illustrate the challenge of raising kids while trying to make it in the music industry here but have sadly been neglecting my everyday diva blog, which I mean to rectify at this moment!

Being back in the US, where my upcycled kidswear is understood and sought after has done me good. Instead of doing the market this year, I'm working together with the coolest consignment shop ever, Cherry T's. We decided to do live upcycling right outside the shop, where I will magically transform clothes from the shop into completely new and unique mialeentje garments, right before your very eyes!

I'm also offering the new and incredibly awesome 'funky alteration' service for everybody who has something in their closet they just don't wear anymore. Poor lonely clothing, hanging in the wardrobe for no one to see just breaks my heart, so this is their chance to be pulled out and revamped into something...well, for lack of a better word: awesome.

So rock 'n' roll is being put on hold till after tomorrow, when it's all about fabrics and imagination. I have now officially admitted, I suck at multi-tasking, so I will stop trying as of now.

Rain, Rain, Bugger Off.

It's raining. This sucks. The weatherman did tell me it would rain, but I wrote him a letter saying I didn't want it to, and included a petition signed by more than a thousand fictional people who agreed with me. He obviously didn't read it, because it still rained, despite my protest.

Mia seems convinced it would still be a fun idea to go outside, where it's absolutely gushing down rain and there are gale-force winds blowing at about three-hundred miles an hour. I'm afraid if I let her go out, she'll either be swept up by a gust of wind and carried away to Kansas, or a house will blow down right on top of her, showing only her curled-up red-and-white-striped socks.

Bram is so stir-crazy, he's bouncing off the walls. I decide to take them for a drive to distract them, and on the way back from going nowhere, I think it would be fun to make a sort of roller-coaster ride out of it by applying the breaks a few times in a row so we'd all lurch forward, as I cry over-enthusiastically 'Weeeee! So much fuuuun!' I find out the hard way that this was a very poor idea because Bram barfed his breakfast all over the floor as soon as we walked back in the house.

Now, Bram is creating a 'no-environment' for himself by doing all the naughty things he knows he's not supposed to do in a row. Mia is complaining that she has an owie on her foot and needs a band-aid pronto. Upon inspection, I see that her wound is nothing more than a freckle. I try to explain to Mia what a freckle is, by showing her the one on my face. She persists that it still hurts, and is now convinced mama needs a band-aid too. Mia is pleased, since her owie has miraculously healed once the band-aid is applied. I am not so pleased, since I'll be wearing a band-aid on my face for the rest of the day.

I decide now to preoccupy them by reviving the toys in the toy box in the kids' room. It's something I've been procrastinating because the toy box is so full of toys, it's actually quite dangerous to try to take one out. All the toys are piled on top of one another so precariously, that if someone were to disturb the pile by, for example, breathing too close to it, the toys would in all likelihood cascade on top of them and bury them alive. The only way to actually play with any of the toys is to dump the entire contents of the toy box onto the floor. This on its own provided some entertainment, and the kids actually started playing with stuff they hadn't seen since they were newborns. Success!

Now is a perfect opportunity to get some mialeentje marketing done! I switch on the computer and am about to go online when I realize I don't hear anything. Oh my god, it's silent... Have they killed each other?

I go in the room to check, which I should never do. As soon as she sees me, Mia decides her owie hurts again and starts crying. Misery loves company, so Bram decides he too is unhappy with the current activity. They both need a hug simultaneously, but do not feel like sharing mama or taking turns, resulting in some pushing, a significant amount of screaming and a whole lot of discontentment in general. I need to come up with a new activity, stat.

Jumping on the bed! They love to jump on the bed. I lure them to the bedroom and initiate the fun by jumping on the bed myself. Mia joins me without hesitation, but Bram looks a little apprehensive. Suddenly, I am regretting this idea, for fear that too much verticle motion might cause him to repeat this morning's barfing incident. I decide to take the risk and help Bram up onto the bed, figuring if he spews, it's about time I change the bed sheets anyway.

So we start jumping. Giggles and smiles fill the room and, for about thirty-five seconds, things are good. Then, I witness the inevitable - Mia and Bram bump heads. I should've seen it coming, since their heads are proportionally huge as it is, and the way they were cavorting all over the place, it was bound to happen. There was a millisecond of silence before Mia started wailing like a banshee. Bram (who is blessed with a titanium alloy skull) simply shook it off and immediately began jumping again, which caused Mia to fall off the bed and wail even harder. One more band-aid, coming up.

Now it's finally time for Bram's nap. Best case scenario, Bram goes down for a couple hours so I'll only have one child's needs to cope with. But Bram is two, which by definition means he will not do anything I want him to do. He has his own agenda, which would be fine if he were a 42-year-old man in a suit and tie, but not when he is a two-year-old boy who needs his diaper changed. Naturally, on this particular rainy day, Bram did not agree with my plan of going down for a nap. I put him to bed anyway, and subsequently listen to him lament for an hour from the confines of his crib. If he had an aluminum mug, you can bet he'd be banging it against the rungs of his prison-like confinement. I, on the other hand, was ready to pull my hair out at the sounds he was making. After much suffering and plugging of ears, I give in and take him out of bed. He was a free man.

A DVD it is, then. Which Disney favorite will it be this time? I may be the one with the remote, but Mia is the one with the power:
Me: 'Okay, kids, time for... Wall-E!'
Mia: (throwing her head back in protest) 'Noooooo! No Wauweeee!!'
Me: 'Okay kids, time for... Toy Story!'
Mia: (rolling over in agony) 'Nooooo! No Toyshoriee!'
Me: 'Okay, kids, time for... Finding Nemo!'
Mia: (getting impatient and irritable) 'Nooo-ooooo! No Nee-moooo!'
Me: 'Okay, Mia what do you want to see?!'
Mia: 'Doggie.'
Me: 'Sweetie, we have fifty different movies about doggies - which one do you want to see?'
Mia: (disappointed in mama, who is obviously not good at mind-reading at all)'Dogg-gie!'
Me: 'Okay kids, time for... Bolt!'
Mia: (throwing her head back and close to tears) 'Nooo! No doggieeee!'

Rather than going into a discussion with her about her definition of a doggie, I decide to put on a more challenging movie to get them completely engrossed: 'The Dark Crystal'. (If you don't remember this mid-80's movie because you were either too stoned, or not interested in the whole Jim Henson-plus-Brian Froud-equals-mystical-muppets thing, it's a semi-dark, rather weighty fantasy movie with extravagant muppets and Frank Oz does his falsetto voice for about 98% of the characters.) 'The Dark Crystal' works like a charm. Both kids are glued to the TV, overwhelmed by the bizarre puppet-critters and trippy colors. This should hold them for a good half hour at least. Okay, back to that marketing I need to do.

Instead of doing any marketing, though, I write this blog post. I am aware of the precious time I am wasting, but I can't seem to stop writing. They say you should never snuff out the flames of inspiration, and knowing me, the content of this post will keep me awake tonight if I don't get it off my chest. It's still raining, the kids are quickly losing interest in the freaky muppets and I am running out of ideas. On top of that, the weatherman is predicting rain all week. I'll just have to write another letter to him. Will you sign my petition?

'Me Time'

I love my kids. I love them with every inch of my soul, every drop of my existence. They are my inspiration, my reason for being. But I also love dropping them off at pre-school and leaving them there for a few hours, because that's when I get some well-earned 'me time'.

'Me time'. I never seemed to need it before I had kids. Back then, it was 'me time' all the time. I had so much 'me time', I didn't know what to do with it. Frankly, I was bored of it. I was with myself all the time, why should I spend extra time with myself?  And when my husband and I were together without kids, we not only had an abundance of 'me time' for ourselves separately, we also had an excess of 'us time'. At one point, we were sick of the sight of each other, we had so much 'us time'.

Now, things are different. 'Me time' is valuable commodity around here. Especially since the kids don't take 3-hour naps anymore in the afternoons. My husband and I battle for 'me time' regularly. Sometimes I will use going to the bathroom as an excuse to get an extra bit of 'me time', when it isn't actually my turn. And I'm convinced my husband will sometimes invent a chore that needs to be done outside in order to steal a bit of 'me time' for himself.

And when I finally do get those few precious hours of 'me time', I blow them. I vacuum, wash dishes, do the laundry, work on mialeentje marketing. 'Me time' isn't supposed to be wasted on household chores and work, is it? 'Me time', I'm sure, is for having a massage or a facial, enjoying fresh flowers, having a laugh, catching up on fashion trends in the latest issue of Elle, that kind of thing.

The thing is, though, that I get all that stuff during my non 'me time', with my kids I mean.
Having a massage, for example: If I should lie down anywhere, the kids see that as an invitation to jump on my back, which is better than any Thai massage you could pay any amount of money for.
As far as a facial goes: having kids pretty much means going around without make-up on anyway, so my face is in such good condition lately, I don't even need one!
As for fresh flowers: My daughter Mia can find a flower within seconds of being outside, with which she'll decorate the house and herself. So I am pretty much surrounded by fresh flowers, even if they are in the form of weeds, every day.
And catching up on fashion trends? To be honest, I never really paid any attention to trends anyway. I prefer to make up my own, and watch what Mia is doing. She is my trend guru when it comes to gathering inspiration for mialeentje.

Come to think of it, who says 'me time' has to be when you're by yourself? I tend to find lots of 'me time' opportunities throughout the day, like when the kids are busy playing in the dirt or when my husband is venting his frustrations about lousy drivers. For a moment, I can enjoy the sound of a breeze rustling the leaves or a particularly pretty birdsong and recharge my batteries until one of the kids get a dirt clot in its eye or my husband realizes I'm only half listening to him. So it was just a few seconds of 'me time', but a valuable few seconds nonetheless!

So, as it turns out, I actually get plenty of 'me time' satisfaction when it's not officially 'me time' at all! I guess I should re-define what I understand to be 'me time'. It's a time to rest, to think, to ponder, to dive into the lake of me... make that a dip my toes in the shallow end of the lake of me (a dive would simply take too long to manage in the few hours the kids are away). No, real deep self-exploration and peace of mind can only be achieved during an extended period of time of 7-9 hours, and the only time I can manage that is when I'm asleep. I guess I'll just have to rely on my subconscious to ensure I get the 'me time' I'm entitled to...

Men are from Mars, Women are from Upstate New York.

My husband is a man. Which means: 1) no, I am not a lesbian, and 2) no, I am not a single mom. It also means that, because my husband is a man, he is incredibly focused, but totally incapable of doing two things at once.

My husband's wife, a.k.a me, is a woman. That means: 1) no, he is not gay and 2) no, he is not a single dad. It also means that, because I am a woman I am able to do two things at once, but my timing sucks.

These two well-known character traits belonging to men and women can cause some really interesting - and yes, somewhat sticky - situations, as you are probably more than well aware, I'm sure. Being a man or a woman on this planet makes it pretty much impossible not to bump into someone of the opposite sex eventually. And as difficult as it is for most modest woman to admit, it's true, there's just no two ways about it...men are hopeless at multi-tasking.

Seriously, last night, I managed to get both kids in bath (consecutively - not together), finish two chapters in the book I'm reading, make out a grocery list, pluck my eyebrows, and come up with the idea for this blog post, all at the same time. It is somewhat miraculous when you think about it, and yet second nature to us women.

My husband would not be able to do all these things at once. Not that he needs his eyebrows plucked per say, but the act of performing more than one task simultaneously is just not possible for him. He says so himself, repeatedly, when I ask him to do something for me, he'll cry: 'I can't do two things at once, woman!' But this cry is not one of frustration due to his lack of the ability to multi-task; it is one of pure annoyance, since the timing with which I asked him to do a task is more often than not, how do I put it: lousy.

As a woman, I have this uncanny ability of asking my husband to do something at exactly the same moment he is preparing to do something else, a 'project', if you will. I should know better. 'A project' requires a man's full concentration, which I definitely should know, since I read 'It's A Guy Thing: An Owners Manual for Women' by David Deida. I'm telling you, ladies, this book is a must-have read for women who feel compelled (or forced) to understand the men in their lives.

In his book, Mr. Deida answers several of women's faq's about men, and explains the elaborate details of his unstoppable aspiration to contemplate, commence and complete 'a project'. If a woman should interrupt this process, the results can be, well let's face it, disastrous. This is why I am eternally grateful for Mr. Deida's research, since it taught me when the correct moment actually is to ask a man anything while he's in the midst of a project. That moment is, quite simply, never.

Thank you, Mr. Deida. I'll try and remember that in future, but right now, I have to check my e-mails, do the laundry, wash the dishes, put Bram to bed and three other things I can't remember right now but will come to me, I'm sure...


*This post has only been slightly exaggerated for literary - and naturally dramatic - purposes.

What To Do With Big Little Men...

My son Bram is not only a handful physically, he is an entire armful emotionally these days. That makes sense, since the big little man just turned two.

Suddenly a day in Bram's life has become busy and mentally challenging when it used to be a matter of simply waking up, eating food, napping, eating food, playing, eating food and going to bed. Now he's dealing with big emotions, growing pains, pre-school, other kids... it's a lot for any man to handle, especially a two-year-old one. He's neither familiar with nor capable of multi-tasking yet! He has officially graduated from babyhood into the era of toughness and now needs to dress accordingly.

As Bram deals with these developmental leaps into big-boyhood, I am experiencing parallels with the mialeentje boys' collection I lovingly named after him, bramboy. Apart from the 'everlasting pants - for kids who won't stop growing', I am finding it difficult to come up with new and exciting boyswear that I can put the same amount of passion into as I do the girlswear. A girls' garment has endless possibilities when it comes to ruffles, ribbons and gathering... A boys' garment just doesn't - and shouldn't - require the same approach, but what approach it does require has quite honestly got me stumped.

When I look at Bram, I see that he needs to be able to run, jump, climb, fall, trike, roll over and fall some more and he needs the proper attire to do all that in. When it comes to making clothes, I tend to lean towards cute, not tough. In fact, my inspiration for boyswear tends to fizzle out after size 74 (18mo), and after that, it's just no longer okay to be cute. A little boy who can slosh through a knee-deep puddle, get stuck haflway up a tree or carry a log half his own size simply can't be seen wearing powder blue or anything with a teddy bear motief on it. No, now it's got to be made of heavy denim, camoflauge and canvas. It's got to have cargo pockets everywhere, big enough to hold a frog, two worms and at least half a cup of sand.

My affinity for girlswear comes not only from the fact that I worked as a professional girlswear stylist for years, but also stems from the fact that I am, in fact, a girl. I recognize what a girl needs, what a girl wants, what a girl simply can't live without. The fact is that boys don't really care what they're wearing, as long as it doesn't get in their way while they're trying to ride a trike over a pile of branches. I seriously doubt Bram will develop the same desire to pick out his own outfit every morning as Mia did when she turned two. I get the distinct impression he has more important things to think about, namely how fast he can get his hands on his HotWheels.

So, what to do about big little men? I don't think I'm prepared to give up on bramboy completely - there are simply too many green-minded parents out there who are interested in my eco-friendly upcycled clothes for boys. But perhaps the line needs to be exclusively for the littlest of little men. The ones who can still get away with teddy bear motiefs and powder blue. The big little men who are still little enough to be cute.

And as for the bigger big little men - I'll keep my eyes on Bram and keep you posted...

Priorities...

I have to get the spring/summer collection online!

But before I can do that, I have to Photoshop every garment onto a clear blue sky background.
But before I can do that, I have to photograph every garment.
But before I can do that, I have to sew labels into every garment.
But before I can do that, I have to order more labels, since I'm almost out.
But before I can do that, I have to arrange a photo session of kids modeling the garments.
But before I can do that, I have to make the garments.
But before I can do that, I have to gather inspiration and come up with ideas.
But before I can do that, I have to sort out daycare so I can concentrate fully on my work.
But before I can do that, I have to set up my new overlock machine.
But before I can do that, I have to give the overlock machine I've been borrowing back to my mother-in-law.
But before I can do that, I have to clean her overlock machine out and pack it up.
But before I can do that, I have to wash all the spring/summer materials.
But before I can do that, I have to gather all my spring/summer materials together.
But before I can do that, I have to sort through the fall/winter materials to find all the spring/summer materials.
But before I can do that, I have to make room in my studio by holding a big sale on the winter/fall collection.
But before I can do that, I have to advertise the sale and announce the spring/summer collection in a newsletter.

And in order to do that, I have to get the spring/summer collection online!


Arg!

I've set a goal for myself: April 1st.
No joke.
On April 1st, the 2010 spring/summer collection will be online. Which means I have to get all the other priorities on my list done, and am scratching my head a bit as to how I'm going to actually go about doing that. More importantly, in which order!

Julie Andrews once sang, 'Let's start at the very beginning, it's a very good place to start'. Hmm. If I knew where the beginning was, I wouldn't be having this problem...

This kind of situation is typical for me, as a multi-tasking mamapreneur. It drives my husband crazy when he sees me starting another project when I haven't completed the last one. I admit, it drives me crazy too, but how else do I do it? Multi-tasking is all I know.

Being a mom is the very definition of multi-tasking, if you ask me. I don't know too many people who are capable of changing a diaper on a squirming kid while poking a straw through the little foil circle on a package of juice while googling something or other online all at the same time, unless it's a mom.  I don't even think dads are capable of this kind of multi-tasking - it's got to be a mom thing. Men always finish what they start. Women are always starting something new.

I guess it's in my nature to mix it all up, and till now, it's worked for me. It'll work for me again, you just wait and see.
April 1st.
Spring/summer collection online.

No joke.