She’s been my muse, my inspiration, my assistant and my model. She gets me through the day and pushes me through hell.
She’s two and a half, and her name is Olivia.
I built my business because of her and for her. As I listed her in the “Shop Owners” section of our Etsy shop, I realised she’s as much a part of all we’ve built as I am.
She’s actually working.
And so it was that she helped me pack my bags for the very first Pure Cute market stall.
My heart spent most of that Friday racing, but I’ve never seen her calmer.
I haven’t had a “proper” job since I was pregnant with her, haven’t had to rock up to anything more formal than a doctors appointment in three years. You can imagine the goosebumps, tummy butterflies and panicked flushes that alternated with my uneven heartbeart – it was a wonder I managed to tie the clothes rack to the marquee!
Poor hubby got ordered about, yelled at when he got it wrong, and talked over when he suggested how to fix each tiny calamity. And he kept smiling gently through it all. Either he really loves me or he was really enjoying his afternoon off work. I wonder now if he was just amused watching me struggle with real organised “work”. No matter. I was grateful as hell he was there. Not only to look out for the girls, but to be my rock.
And then the unbelievable happened.
I had fun – FUN! Me!
It was such a gentle bustle of people – people pouring out of CBD offices on their way home, tourists finishing their days of city sights, and families just like mine. It really surprised me to see parents taking their children out at night. I use mine as an excuse to NOT go out at night.
Have I really been this house bound? This land locked? Am I the maternal model of the “Bubble-Woman”?
They walked around, snooped things out, bought little bits, decided whether they wanted sweet potato frittes or wood fired pizza for their dinner – and sat down casually to eat it with a band in the background and fairy lights overhead.
What have I been missing? I swear – I live on the city fringe… but I HAVEN’T LIVED.
Now, this was half a stall I had – 1/4 of a marquee. I had the time of my life. I went home, paid my Origin Energy bill (profit, hurrah!) and signed up for the next November Twilight Markets. Thank you, BrisStyle! Marooned on my Island of lost Mammas, you have appeared on the horizon to bear me across the seas to the land of the living and twinkling lights!
And now the girls are calling again. It’s time to dance like a puppet…
and so it begins.