Juggle Junction

Networking has always been an element of my job I rather despise. Trying to get to know people, what they do, where they do it, and then deciding in a brief moment whether or not they could be a good connection. It's so forced and fake. Besides, there are only so many times you can start a conversation with, "Come here often?" before you're mistaken for someone looking for a good time...

Needless to say, I've never been keen on networking. There seems to be an element of pressure to perform, and showcase just how fabulous you are to acquire new business, or heaven forbid, create a new friendship which is entirely self-motivated. Yuck!

The reason for my nostagalic vomit, is a friend of mine recently followed her heart's passion and launched her very own networking website for professional Australian women. But unlike good old fashion face-to-face chin wagging, a website is the perfect platform to meet, connect and talk to women while you're safe and sound at home, in your pyjamas with your deep cleansing mask on while sitting propped up on your cushy European pillows in bed (and yes, that is exactly what I'm doing now).

Juggle Junction is a new online community where women of any age, background, employment status and 'life journey' are encouraged to...well...network. Be it as part of one of the many specialised groups (think Women in Business / Teachers / At Home Mums etc...) or just as a one-off question for other women in that group to answer.

It also offers great reads (ah hem...I might submit a few stories here and there), the chance to start your own private forums, ask for a little mentoring, reply to other users asking questions and generally access the brilliant minds (mine not so much brilliant as it is dazed and confused that randomly blurts out crap) in a private, non-judgemental and comfortable manner.

I'll be honest. When Nicole first told me about Juggle Junction and invited me to contribute regular columns, I was a little sceptical of its value. Does Australia really need another website for women to talk? Um... what other websites are there Sian? NONE!

Of course there are websites for Mums to seek advice and support, but I'm more than a Mother. Yes, there are websites for career networking, but I'm more than what I do for my fortnightly pay cheque. Hence the beauty of Juggle Junction. It skillfully mixes all these aspects of my life to be a one-stop-shop for me - a woman who happens to work, be a Mum, loves reading, cooking, shopping and having a laugh with good friends and could sometimes use a helping hand. I'm yet to find any other website that offers all of that in one place.

Needless to say the more I jump on, follow conversations, read all those well written, witty articles (nudge nudge wink wink say no more), ask questions and provide my own advice as part of a larger discussion, I do feel part of a valued community. Yes, I can interact as much or as little as I want to, but just like anything else, I feel like I gain more from it once I actively put more of myself in to it.
 
Juggle Junction is a rapidly growing website for women to connect, support and inspire other women. What can be so bad about that? Besides, until 31 December 2012 a 12 month membership to Juggle Junction is free. Ka-Ching!

Please take a look for yourself and let me know what you think. Visit Juggle Junction.


Image via here

5 things I'm loving about Brisbane right now...

I have to admit as a Mother to a very vivacious and energetic toddler (um, btw he's almost 2!!!) and returning to (paid) work after maternity leave, the thought of packing a suitcase for a relaxing holiday at some exotic location is more than a little frightening. Anyone remember National Lampoon's Vacation? Eek, the horror!

Despite this, I'm in desperate need of a vacation/timeout/respite {insert appropriate escape word here} without my beautiful little boy. Yes, I love him but Mumma needs a break every now and then. FYI by 'exotic' I mean anywhere other than Townsville and by 'holiday', I mean just one night when I don't have to put E to bed at 7pm then go out.

Anywho, as a result of my hesitation to venture off on a family getaway, I've taken it upon myself to rediscover my city and holiday at home. I've decided I will just force myself in to a state of relaxation and tranquil calm in good old Brisvegas. If people come here to holiday from arond the world, why can't I? I might even contemplate wearing ironed clothes and applying make-up to leave the house. Jeepers!! 

Here are 5 things I'm loving about Brisbane right now:

1. Early morning coffee and savoury mince on toast at Pearl Cafe. No explaination required.

2. Cocktails and dumplings at Brunswick Social. A word to the wise, if you plan on eating, book a table or do as I did and arrive at 5pm without a booking. It wont matter that you haven't reserved a seat at a common table top in this hip new spot, you'll arrive so early no-one else in their right mind will be there (unless you go after work in which case you're screwed).

3. The sun is warmer. The days are longer and the drinks are in easy reach. Nothing beats watching movies under the stars at Limes Hotel thanks to its outdoor cinema and rooftop bar only a few feet away. Cosmopolitan anyone?

4. Packing a blanket, hat and the latest read for little R&R by the water in Manly followed by a stroll through the Jan Power Farmers Markets or splurging on a bucket of prawns and glass of bubbles at Wilson's Boathouse Seafood Restaurant.

5. Enjoying live music with friends on a Friday night at Brisbane Powerhouse. If you happen to pop in one week in November, you'll have the chance to catch fabulous folkies Women in Docs who take up residence at the Turbine Stage for the month. See the girls perform a range of their hits plus new songs from their upcoming album. P.S. It's FREE! 

What do you like to do when you can't go away on holiday? Any secrets for a little R&R at home?

Image: Limes Hotel

An Age Old Question

Do you have a 'scary' age? An age far enough in the distance that it seems un-obtainable yet common enough you know you'll reach it before Goldie Hawn. An age when you believe you should know what life is all about but you'd prefer to let others reach it and just tell you about it?

As a little girl (let's say 10 years of age) 25 was my Wow-You-Are-Now-An-Adult age. I distinctly remember daydreaming that at 25 I would be married with a major career - in what I had no idea but it would take me around the world - and would've popped out at least two kids. At 10, 25 seemed to me the ideal age. I would be old enough to be taken seriously, would've moved out of home and could go out whenever I wanted. How fabulous! Besides, if you were 25 you weren't too old to be, well...old.

25 was cool but as I reached the magic number, the thought of marriage and children left me cold. Marriage was for someone who was, you know, 30!

Now back in the day, 30 was the OMG-Now-You-Really-Are-An-Adult age. It was the year I assumed life got on track. As my Mum and Dad were in their 30s when they had me, their third and youngest child, I always believed I'd be in a similar position when the big 3-0 hit. Ha ha ha!

As someone who turned *insert drum roll here* 32 over the weekend, I'm still waiting for this magical track to appear and the Adult Wand to wave over me and declare that I am now a responsbile person with her s#^t together.

"Um...hello? I'm over here." Nope, the Master Wand Waver obviously can't find me among all the other 30 somethings holding on to their youth with gritted teeth, because despite the increasing figures hanging over my head, I am yet to see any evidence that I am gaining in maturity to warrant the increase in age.

Yes, I have a child but he's half the reason for my hesitation. Most days I'm rolling around on the floor with him, eating food off the floor after him and cleaning dirt, vegemite or poo off my clothes because of him. How can I be a big kid when I'm behaving like a little kid?

So this year I made an executive decision. Instead of getting older I would simply celebrate the second anniversary of my 30th birthday. It has a certain je ne sais quoi, don't you think? No? Ok then, I'll just blame my age increase on the Carbon Tax. That'll work.

Creative Inspiration: My new home office

Many moons ago I shared with you my dream of creating a home office space. I was yearning for a little spot I could call my own, to sit at and write, spend countless hours on the Internet and escape to when I needed a little R&R.

Obviously, in an ideal world with no financial limits, my personal space/office would be fabulously grand with plush armchairs for reading, a library, artwork and few of my favourite photos....Ok, and an espresso machine! An office similar to these celebrity spaces wouldn't get turned down.

But I was lucky to find a cute desk for under $90 from Officeworks, printed off several phrases and vibrant images from the web to start my inspiration wall, then  I added personal bits and pieces to the area for pizzazz. 

And here you have it. I'm tucked into the corner of our bedroom as we live in a townhouse and currently all available space is full of E's toys, besides I wanted to get away from the television and communal rooms. She's very simple but has the beginnings of something special, don't you think?

Pen holder, scented candle and Tiffany. Swoon...

Inspirational phrases, bright images off the web and Vincent Van Gogh artwork

A Guardian Angel from my Aunt and my most prized photo of Mum and I circa 1982

My trusty filing system and a pile of magazines open on must-read features for creative inspiration

It's from:
Scented candle is from Crabtree & Evelyn.
Inspirational phrases are from Women in Business.
Colourful images are from two great blogs Absolutely Beautiful Things and Table Tonic.
Vincent Van Gogh's La Nuit Etoilee Saint-Remy 1889 was purchased at a market stall in Paris.
Guardian Angel is from Willow Tree.
Desk is from Officeworks. Note: I don't believe mine is still available but this is a similar version.

Glamour Girl v Grubby Mummy

Sometimes I wish I was a Glamour Girl, not a Grubby Mummy. I usually wish this when I only have 20 minutes to shower, shampoo, blow-dry, dress and slurp instant coffee between mouthfuls of cold toast before running to catch the bus to work in the mornings. A Glamour Girl rarely arrives late to work because she had to find (and iron!) another clean shirt after the first one was smeared with peanut butter, yoghurt and bread crumbs by her delightful one year old. 

Actually, Glamour Girl is most unlikely to have breakfast at all and just pick up a double shot decaf, skim soy latte on her way to the office.

I love the total Glamour Girl look. The polished nude pumps, a well-shaped, non-chipped pale pink mani/pedi, a perfectly pressed crisp white shirt tucked into a black tailored pencil skirt with diamond stud earrings completed by an elegantly pinned chignon at the nape of her neck. 

I would wear a pair of this season’s Mimco open toe ankle boots, the delightful florescent orange harem pants by sass & bide, a flowing blouse and a statement necklace if I were a Glamour Girl. 

And I must meet a Glamour Girl’s make-up artist. The never-coming-off dewy complexion she achieves is always the perfect blend with her natural skin tone, while her cheeks are glistening with a sun-kissed rouge that puts even Gisele to shame.  

I’d have every OPI pastel nail colour at my Tiffany & Co adorned finger tips so I'm never caught out in a nail emergency, plus I'd pop my Yves Saint Laurent Touche Eclat and a Lancome Juicy Tube in to the inner pouch of my Chanel quilted leather clutch for subtle touch ups during the day.

On weekends I’d slip into my comfy 7 For All Mankind jeans, throw on my Stella McCartney cotton top and Chloe ballet flats before driving off in my Mini Cooper convertible for a light lunch with the girls. Afterwards I'd pick up my new Marc Jacobs (fed-exed from New York) dress for cocktails and dancing in the evening.

If I were a Glamour Girl I’d look good 24/7, even in bed, because it is a never ending production to be her.

But today, and tomorrow, I will be Grubby Mummy. I live in 12 year old brown Birkenstocks, a beige (colour formerly known as white) Espirit singlet and faded blue Witchery linen shorts with a stretched waistband. I have three-inch regrowth in my long blonde, unwashed hair and dirty, torn nails from playing in the garden with my son.

If I were a Glamour Girl I would be envious of Grubby Mummy and want her no-fuss, affordable life and amazing family. I would want to be me.

Back to work

The time has come to pack away the bath robe and slippers, unpack the corporate suits and polish up my fancy shoes because this Mumma his heading back to the workforce. Eeeek!

I finished up at my previous job a little more than one year ago. I remember cleaning out my desk and handing over a pile of business cards to my replacement and thinking, 'Thank god I don't have to use these again.' The only cards I collect now are ones from close friends and family celebrating E's arrival and business cards from Day Cares where E is on the waiting list.

Since starting a "life of luxury" I haven't needed to worry about having enough change for the bus in the morning, or that my jackets were dry cleaned before a big meeting or what incorrect story The Courier Mail was going to write about my client.

Nope, the most I worried about in the past 13 months was made up of more important issues like is E feeding enough during the day so he'll sleep at night? Am I about to run out of nappies and what sunscreen should I buy a baby so I don't fill his precious skin with chemicals? Does he have enough to keep him interested during the day? What should I make us for lunch? Etc... etc... The pressure may not be as high, but it's pressure nonetheless. Now I have to find a way to answer both. Correctly. First time. Every time. Obviously.

As this week rolls on and the first day of my new job gets closer my excitement for getting back into my career is slowly turning into panic. Not only will I start a new job in a new corporate environment, but all my work clothes resemble a tent an elephant would wear - a very faded and ugly tent thanks to the behemoth I was during pregnancy (not that there's anything wrong with that), AND I have to get E organised and ready to start Day Care in as many days. Two whammies on one day. I don't do things by halves do I?

Do I give in to these feelings of anxiousness and fear of getting back on the corporate treadmill after the longest break in my career to date, or do I focus on getting my darling boy through his first day (and week) away from home without Mum? 

I keep thinking, he'll be all alone in the big bad world with only his cute chubby smile to defend him? Yes, I'm completely overreacting, of course he's got cute chubby arms and legs that pack a mighty punch too, but you know what I mean.

The longest I've left E since he was born is 5 hours. Even then I was a prisoner of my own sweat-drenched panic because I was convinced he was having a melt down without me there to provide comfort (i.e. boobs) and I would regret going shopping with my girlfriends instantly.

Of course I got home, E was sound asleep and Teach didn't even realise five hours had passed. My emotional state was completely over the top and a result of me not learning to let go and have someone else - his very capable Daddy no less - look after him.

If that's what I was like six months ago, I'd hate to think what I'll be like after E's first eight hours in Day Care with a random stranger! Most probably hiding in the corner of the house, rocking back and forth in the arm chair with my arms wrapped firmly around E staring off in to the distance chantting, 'there's no place like home, there's no place like home.' 

Actually, that's reminded me, I need to get to the bottleo and stock up on a few good bottles of Red. This Mumma's gonna need it!

All Aboard the Workforce Express!

I've been on maternity leave since December last year, even though E wasn't due until February. I decided to take off early in order to wind down from work, have Christmas at home with family and enjoy the last few weeks of my pregnancy at home nesting. 

While the year is almost up. It feels like it has gone by in the blink of an eye.

When E first arrived I would sit with him and think, 'Imagine the day when you'll sit up by yourself.'

Then I would say to Teach, 'Just wait until he's crawling around, we won't know what hit us.'

Now, I'm thinking (and somewhat pleading to the heavens), 'Where's my baby gone? He's such a little man now,' and he's only 8 months old.

Being able to stay at home and care for E in his first year has been incredible, for him and me. We've definitley had our moments of desperation, exhaustion and frustration (especially on my behalf) but I wouldn't change our time together for anything. I'm very grateful that Teach and I have been able to afford the luxury of me not working...until now.

Yep, the time has come for me to haul my tired arse back to the work force, but it goes with a degree of anxiety and confusion because it's taken me a good part of the year to forget Career Girl Sian and comfortably settle into Mumma mode. How do I mix-it-up and do both? 

Yesterday, I joined the other Yummy Mummys at our weekly Mothers Group catch up. A majority of us are passengers on the Workforce Express boat so the conversation consisted of many personal questions such as: Would you recommend Child Care or Family Day Care? Should I look for vacancies in a centre near home or work? What sort of standards are we searching for? What is a good benchmark to compare child care centres? What is the average cost for one child per week? Does anyone know of a centre that is happy for you to use cloth nappies?

The one burning question I had, that I didn't voice was, how the hell will I cope not looking after E each day?


It was incomprehensible to me one year ago that I could survive as a Stay-at-Home Mum. I thought I would  'lose myself' in Motherly duties and go a bit batty (more so than usual that is). But it seems the opposite is true.

I love being the main carer for E during the day. We play adorable little games that no-one else knows. We sing songs together that no-one else knows (Ok, I sing and he just nods along). We go to the park, to weekly Baby Sensory classes, Mother's Group and on shopping expeditions.

I know his little idiosyncrasies and he knows mine - maybe better than Teach? Yes, we have our moments like many others do, but I sincerely cherish this time we've had together and I know I will miss it - I completely understand now what people mean when they say 'This time goes so fast'. Fast? It's bloody lightning speed and I'm holding on for dear life!!

Needless to say, SJP's new movie I Don't Know How She Does It is very timely. I might need to organise a Mother's Group catch up at a Babes in Arms session to watch, listen and learn what to do and what not to do.    

If you have any tips on how to cope with this transition, I'd love to hear it.

What A Novel Idea

My weekend started splendidly, with a long overdue cup of tea in bed, an old copy of The Devil Wears Prada and silence... Pure bliss!

Teach took E for a walk to pick up the weekend papers and coffee, spend some time together and give Mumma her down time. It was exactly what the Doctor ordered.

The time to myself inspired me to get a little creative and start researching a few projects I've had filed in my head under 'Maybe One Day' for a long time. So I wrote a list of everything I'd like to do or at least get started in the next year, closed my eyes and let my index finger land on one...the one I would start today.

Guess what it is?

Career Girl or Working Mum?

Unemployment. It has a certain ring to it, doesn’t it? Unfortunately not the ring of cash registers or a flawless 2crt platinum princess cut Tiffany ring, but a ring nonetheless...