This Is Me. Just Another Mother Blogger.

This is me.
Lexi.
PottyMouthMama.
Worker bee by day.
Mama and wife by night.

I was thinking about mummy bloggers and thinking how that tag does not fit me. Well I don't think so anyway. That tag makes me really uncomfortable. I get kind of itchy. I am no expert parent. And sometimes - a lot lately - I am sad how little time I have to spend with my children, that is quality time. I get home, I am tired. Sometimes snappy. I hate that. I feel so distant sometimes. There's a disconnect between work life and family life. I struggle with it. Battle with it daily. I don't find the work-family juggle very easy and it can sometimes make me feel immensely sad. Right to my bones. 

But we gots to live.

And someone once went to town on me in the comments section, saying that I chose this and that it's my own fault. Well. I guess she didn't read my blog very carefully. I work four days, and when I am home, Matt works. We have that one day together, and Sydney sucks you dry. To your very marrow.

But back to my blog. Life is this imperfect thing, and so is my parenting. But, I am a mama, but I am also so much more. And my blog is more than parenting and sometimes not so much about parenting. And since I've returned to the paid workforce, I feel distant from the mummy blogger tag. Actually I think I've always been distant from the mummy blogger tag (EEK!). I could go 'round and 'round in circles with this discussion by myself. I won't. But I could.

I think Anna sums it up well here.

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This is me wearing a necklace my friend Pip gave me, a few years ago. I love wearing it. It makes me think of her and all the awesome sauce she spreads throughout the world.

I have other things that have been gifted to me that remind me of special people in my life. My Mum gave me one of her vintage kaftans. I wore it throughout my first pregnancy, with the Doctor in my belly. I love that kaftan, though it's getting a bit threadbare, it's so loved and makes me think of my Mum.

I love wearing things that remind me of people. It puts me in a good mood and makes me think they're kind of looking after me that day. In a weird way. That might sound kooky. Apologies. I might be a little kooky.

End of rambling post.
At ease soldiers.

Editing

Do you have a finely edited wardrobe?

My friends, I'm here to confess, that I do not. I have a wardrobe that's like ivy. It's slowly, every so slowly growing out of control. It's getting into everything, it's everywhere and before I know it, our house will be overrun with my clothes.

I'm not one who loves shopping, however, I am one who loves hoarding.

I keep clothes 'in case they come back'. I keep clothes for sentimental reasons (I have the jeans that I was wearing when I met Matt, despite the fact they're not that comfortable and I always share my plumber's crack when wearing them). I have a lot of my Mum's clothes too. Oh and I keep clothes for when Tiny is older. Like this awesome pale pink cord miniskirt from Zimmermann.

Once an old flat mate of mine went through my wardrobe with me. I remember the horror on her face when she pulled a linen dress from my wardrobe and said "What is this?" I told her I wore it when I was 16 and I was holding onto it until I could wear it again. She grabbed it, and another of the same ilk and said "They ain't coming back sister" and tossed them into the charity bag we had on stand-by.

Vicious. Don't think I wasn't tempted to go fish them out again. I do this regularly. As if I owe something to these clothes.

Today I am madly trying to edit. I've so far tossed one dress, and one skirt. The dress I have only worn once and I just don't feel love for it. The skirt I have worn many, many times, however it's unflattering and all the buttons are coming off and I don't know where they are - but most of all it's unflattering. For me, that is enough reason to evict it.

What are your wardrobe criteria? Do you regularly edit yours?

Image via the beautiful Vintage Rose

My Place and Yours: My Collezione

It's a two for one deal here today and here ladies (and gents?) is my collezione. I wracked my brain when Kate from Foxs Lane nominated this as her theme.. And here's my answer. My vintage clothing. I used to always wear vintage this or that, but since having bebes, some of it is a little less than practical, and other bits just don't fit these hips, and other bits are starting to fall apart.

Here are just a few pieces. I won't bore you with the lot. You might have other exciting things to do. Like housework.

Looking for more collections? Hit up this lady.

It's Me: Day 4

Today is Friday. The Doctor has gone into the city with his grandmother. Tiny is fast asleep. Maybe even snoring. I'm about to get stitching on a little project I'm working on. I've made Bills choc-chip cookies. I am ready to embrace the weekend. It better be sunny or it will have me to answer to.

I'm having a massage tomorrow and you can not even imagine how excited I am. I plan to fall asleep on the table. That's not a threat. That's a hopeful promise.

Oh - a long time ago I mentioned I couldn't find shoes that fit. Well I have. Because I got them made. If you need every day shoes and can't find anything in your size, may I refer you to Salvio's? They are super friendly, helpful and keen. The ballet flats in this shot have been worn to death, though still going strong. Plus I picked up a new pair the other day, and already have ideas for the next pair. I did want to get taps put on my next pair, but after reading this, I think I've rethought the whole idea.. But it would be fun tapping down the street. Yes, yes it would.

It's Me: Day 1 & Day 2

My husband can sometimes go days without seeing my in civvies. Sometimes he just sees me in PJs, and he may well think I go the whole day in my PJs (or tracky daks - but let's just keep that between you and me), but he'd be mistaken. As proof, I've embarked on a wee 10-day project. It involves bad pictures of myself and whatever I happen to be wearing that day. Here's day 1 and day 2.

Here's proof that I still do function in society. It's totes true.

Passion Killers

image via

My husband has a pair of brown socks. But they're not a rich chocolate-y brown. They're an ugly, brown. They make his feet look like a dead person's feet. Like a dead person who's walked 5kms to get to their grave. They are - to be frank - bonafide passion killers.

I've asked him if anything in my wardrobe could be classified as 'passion killing' and his response was my ugg boots. Or as the Doctor calls them, my 'ugg-ly' boots. And he means no pun either.

However I think Matt will find that they're not really part of my wardrobe. They're just part of my strictly at-home-apparel. I would never wear them out (except last week when I went to the library in them because it was so darn cold and my toes would have snapped off without them). So that cancels that out then and that means that my wardrobe is pretty darn perfect. Just like me.

What's a passion killer for you? Clearly, mine is 'dead person brown' socks. (By the way - if Dulux wants to use that as a new name for a brown - please do, I'll take the royalty cheques, I'm sure there are a lot of people wanting to paint their house dead person brown).

Want more passion killing inspiration? Click here.

The Sound Of...A Sewing Machine. You've Got To Be Yoking.

Week six of sewing - only two weeks to go. Last night I thought I'd better get the sewing machine going, get wild on something for me to wear. In fact I really wanted to overlock to let off some steam. Alas, I spent most of the evening cutting out a flibberty pattern, then the fabric, and all I sewed was this. The yoke. Not even the whole thing. Maybe I was talking too much. I always got tossed out of class at school for talking too much. Not that you'd know I sometimes talk too much (three posts in one day - no, I don't talk too much!).

So the yoke. See that piddly amount of sewing down the bottom there? Well times that by two - and that's the equal sum of my sewing. Hmph!

And have I told you about my sewing machine? My Mum kindly gave me my grandmother's machine. It's an old Husqvarna. In good nick. Hasn't been used for some time. I took it to be serviced to make sure it was ready for me (or maybe that was so I was ready for it). The people told me I'd forgotten the pedal - but not to worry, they had one they could use for the service.

I came home and have searched high and low for that damn thing. Even had my Mum turn her place upside down looking for the pedal and the power cord. Do you think it's turned up? Uh-uh. Nope. So unless I decide to just manually turn the needle-thing, I can't use the machine. I paid $100 for the service. Then it's going to be another $150 to get a pedal made up. Double hmph.

I've heard of people finding perfectly good machines on the side of the road. Someone in my class knows someone (who knows someone who knows someone - just jokes) who picked up an overlocker off a council pick-up then sold it on eBay for $300. If only my bin and I were still on speaking terms.

Until then, I'm hand stitching and waiting 'til Monday night to get the machine humming again.

Those Who Thrift Together, Stay Together (How to Manage a Husband When Op Shopping)

So our first full day here. What did it hold in store for us? For me? Well, given I missed the bin, I decided to hit the oppies hard. I left the kidlins with their adoring Ollie (my Mum) which was rare. I love being able to go op shopping without the smalls, for the simple reason, it's easier to go fast without going crazy!

First stop and before midday, I sent the cash registers spinning with a grand total of $11 spent. Whoa Nelly. I am a crazy cat. Two awesome blouses for $2 each - and they both fit perfectly. Totally, absolutely, 100% perfectly. Can you feel the joy? Two small water karafes for a phenomenal $3. Some pillowcases. A chocolate brown clutch.. Oh gosh, it was like opening Pandora's Box if she'd been into vintage goodies instead of wreaking havoc on people.

After lunch I hit the shops again. This time I had my husband in tow. What kind of husband wants to come to the op-shops? Mine! I had to manage this, so I gave us a maximum of five minutes in each shop. I didn't feel the heat. No siree. I'm a seasoned op shopper and know which sections will hold the most fruit. So many vintage sheets, pillowcases, and aprons to pick up.

Matt came out empty handed, disbelieving that I had managed to pick up so much in such a short amount of time. He was also scoffing out how we were actually going to get all this stuff home, in light of the fact that our car was completely chockers driving up.

Am I the only one talented enough to completely fill the car with absolutely everything before heading off? I'm guessing it's a Mum thing. Gosh I am hoping it is, otherwise I have no explanation (other than it must be hereditary). Every trip away I can guarantee I get hassled by Matt for how much stuff we're taking. Hmph.

Third op shop and this one is usually the banana in Carmen Miranda's hat. While I did find a cool piece of fabric and a sweet little crochet piece, there wasn't that much fruit to be eaten here. Maybe it had been harvested already. Who knows, but it wasn't like I was disappointed. We still had one to go - so off we trot, Matt still hoping he was going to find something exciting.

We rolled up to the final oppy for the day. We got out. I still was optimistic. There's nothing like the quiet thrill of country op shops. No. Nothing. All that pre-loved goodness just waiting to go to a new home. Hmm. We walk up to the door - and boooooom! A big fat sign tells us they close at 2:50pm. A big fat reminder that we're not in the city anymore Toto. We had arrived at 3:05pm. Oh the pain. The heart ache. It was almost as bad as fretting for my bin.

Fear not. It's open at 8:30am tomorrow. And guess who's going to be staking it out.

Tomorrow more pics of the loot.

You Won't Be Sorry...

I am a big fan of The Sartorialist. Some of those outfits give me such inspiration, I've got a sort of computer-ified scrapbook that I've kept to give me some styling mojo when I need it.. But now there's The Sortorialist. And my goodness, it's funny.

On doctors advice:
visit The Sartorialist when you need a style injection.
visit The Sortorialist when you need a dose of funny.

Thrift-Ology

I learnt the quiet art of thrifting when I moved to Bondi and used to frequent the Sunday markets many years ago. There was a man there that stocked the best vintage dresses, the best, and they were super dooper cheap - I'm talking $10 a frock. B.A.R.G.A.I.N. I loved checking out each week what he had on offer.

But as it goes, the other punters started coming down and his prices went up and up. Last time I went, his frocks were around $50. While that's not super expensive, I didn't ever go back because it took away the quiet thrill.

So this week, I was totally ecstatic when I just decided to do a little spontaneous thrifting. I was one child down, so I took the little one to our local. It was pretty well empty. In the past, I've visited and there are too many punters to get up and down the aisles. This week, oh yes dear reader, things were going to be different.

I scored some more anondised metal knitting needles (totally impractical, but aren't they pretty?). The jug is thrifted too - it reminded me of Morandi. How could I leave it behind?

This Gnome book. It's got cute pics. I am not particularly a big Gnome fan, but it's cute, I've seen it before, and I likey.

And you know what dear reader, I found this fantastic Aquascutum trench. I know it would be unfair to tell you how cheap I got it for. But I'm going to be unfair damn it. It did have a price of 25 clams - but you know what? As luck would have it, and thrift-ology dictated it was half price on the clothing (unbeknownst to me!) so this little baby was a measly $12.50. And you know the real sweetener? It fits me! Sleeves are usually too short and I look like an overgrown child outgrowing my clothes, but it fits, it fits, it fits! And another sweetener? The previous owner had her own labels hand stitched in - with her name and suburb on embroidered labels. Uber cute.

And this... It was marked a tea cosy, but I don't buy it (I mean I bought it, but I don't buy that it's a tea cosy). What is it friends? Any hints? Well I know what it is going to be for me. It's got a zip, so for me, it's now a handbag/clutch. Do you know how happy that makes me feel? I don't think you do. But let me tell you, right now, I am probably the happiest little lady in the world. Just listen for me baying at the moon tonight, that's right. Damn fool. It's the weekend.

Pottering About

I'm trying to tie up a few loose ends these days. Stuff I've been putting off for eons. Like tidying and organising kids rooms. It's a never-ending task really. Well a baby room is not so bad, they can't mess things up too much. But a three year old? A three year old has the capacity to discover a pile of 'new' old things and spread them out and then some.

So today I did part of my little man's room. Guiltily I must admit I did it when he wanted to play trains, and I was avoiding those clickety-clack tracks like the plague. So what did I do, I threw myself into another activity I abhor, and tidied.

Here's proof.

I know it's nothing ground-breaking, but at least I am finally being accountable.

Ages ago I vowed I was going to get rid of one bag of stuff per day. That was probably a month ago, so roughly thirty bags of stuff and things. Have you seen one of those bags? No... I was also going to resume my yo-yo project. How is that going you might ask? (or maybe you won't). Well, I haven't done a darn stitch.

So this is me being accountable.

I've also been listing things on Ebay again. Some Rykiel pants. Some vintage bits and pieces. I'll be slowly adding to my listings over the next few weeks. Since we might be moving soon (you hear me Universe??), I thought it was as good at time as ever to resume culling.

Styling Up

Since becoming a mum, my style has somewhat changed to suit my life. Well, it goes without saying that when you're pregnant, you start to wear whatever fits (particularly in the last weeks). And hey - I turned up to the hospital for the birth of my first child in a pair of my husband's paint spattered tracksuit pants, Birkenstocks, my husband's t-shirt with an opium smoking Chinese woman, and a Chinese jacket. I'm not sure whether it was the fact I was labouring hardcore by this stage (think two minute contractions) or my fashion choice that made the man on the front desk let us go straight up, whatever it was - smart choice my friend.

But these are the type of fashion moments I am trying to avoid. A little difficult when your once mean metabolism has decided to keep tabs on all those chocs you sneak during the day.. Oh not to mention the baked goodies you had to sample. Sigh. Bad night with the baby? Yes, I deserve that extra scoop of ice cream. Yes, yes I do.

So I am trying to shake a few kilos and get my style back as well.

Pre-children I had a wonderful wardrobe of vintage pieces. I still have them, they just don't fit - at the moment. I say at the moment, because damn fool, I am going to get myself back into them, even if I have to pour my new found curves into them.

I am eating better, which is definitely a great thing. Though I am hankering for a sweetie - I still have them, just not like I used to. And that's ok.

But I also can't wear a lot of BC (before children) clothes because I am breastfeeding, and most things don't accomodate that kind of action. Ever see someone sitting in the park, looking fabulous in a 70s sunfrock, but oh - she has to lift up her dress to feed a little bubby. No, I didn't think so.

So I've been taking a look at aspirational mums, mums of style and substance to get some inspiration.

So there's Kate Moss. Look at her style - in Turkey, where 94% of the population is Muslim. Not such a wise fashion choice. More and more she's becoming a woman of dubious style, and substance.. abuse.. What was she thinking?

Gwen Stefani. She looks cool. Comfortable. Ready to go to the park. Do some finger painting. Bake cakes. Sit on the floor, snuggle and read books. This maxi dress is cute. I can do that.

I talked about BC lingerie before. When your underwear becomes less about being sexy, and more about being comfortable. But why do they have to be two separate things? My clothes have just become comfy, and not about style.

Nelly Furtado famously acknowledged she loved her post-pregnancy curves. Nicole Ritchie looks great with her new post-pregnancy figure.

And all of these women hire stylists.

I guess style is a sort of personal evolution. You can spy something that you wore when you were a teenage and it can make you cringe. Your wedding dress. Warm fuzzies. Those favourite jeans. Total love, and a little fear (that they're going to be a little tighter). So I'll keep going on my little evolution, maybe I won't come back full circle, but it will be some sort of amalgamation of the former me, with the now me.

And if I can't get into those treasured vintage pieces, at least I know my daughter will have a wonderful time rifling through them, just I have done with my own mother's clothes.

Things Are Heating Up

Who knew Ebay could be so excited or addictive? Well I knew it was both of those, but as a virgin seller, it's pretty thrilling to watch the bidding war over your goodies.

I'm selling a mix of things - vintage ladies and men's, some old Zimmermann, some old TopShop maternity, all hard to part with, but there's only so many clothes you can live with before your house becomes one big walk in wardrobe.

Look me up - I'm listed as lexlou79.