Ready (almost) to launch

Wow, it’s been such a long journey. But here we are. We have great fitting samples and the business is ready to launch.

I have never been so excited and so afraid at the same time. I have nightmares about drowing in bras and panties.

It’s been such a long road. One I wasn’t really prepared for. Did I think this would be so hard? Was I prepared for the vast number of people who had no idea what I was doing except spending vast amounts of money?

Not so much.

I feel like I did before I gave birth.

This is my new baby. One I have so many feelings about. I’m so tired, and happy and confused and…freaked out!

This must be what they mean when they say “if it was easy, everyone would do it”.

I guess going into it with my experience and preparation, I thought it would be easier.

Being naive is both a blessing and a curse, because if I really knew what I was in for starting a business — a manufacturing business nonetheless – I probably wouldn’t have done it …

Ok, I lied, I soooooo would have.

I need the drama and challenge in my life.

Cheers to being “almost” ready to launch.

The Bra-fitter takes a Vacation

It’s been over a month since my last blog entry. How time flies.

But I must admit, I took a much needed vacation.

After production woes and a move I felt a bit drained and needed to recharge. Considering it’s been over two years since I took some time for myself and family, it was due.

I went to Vancouver Island with my husband and son to visit a dear friend and had a great time. Beautiful scenery and awesome weather added to my sense of bliss.

While visiting a picturesque beach with the clearest, warmest, bluest water imaginable, I felt a poke in my sternum. I felt my chest to see what had transpired in the valley region, and noticed a wire creeping up towards my throat.

Yes, you heard right. My wire had popped out.

Even with the most dillegent care of my unmentionables, I had a fairly common problem that I had failed to notice.

In this last year, with all my stress of starting a business, coupled with family stresses, my dad’s battle with two types of cancer and the loss of my two beloved animals in a three month time span I had (ahem) put on a bit of poundage. 23 to be precise. And I never took the time to be fitted for new bras. My “e’s” had turned into “f’s”. I can only blame denial. 

Can you believe it?

Why do we as women neglect ourselves when the going gets tough? Not to mention abuse ourselves. In my case, too much comfort foods, deserts and midnight runs to 7-11.

Oh, the horror.

So, it’s off to the lingerie store for me in the next few days. Not to mention focusing on a diet and exercise regime, something that would’ve probably helped with my stress levels long ago.

It’s so hard to practice what you preach.

Off to “practice.”

I’ll be back preaching soon:)

The Mompreneur

A Mompreneur.

Am I one?

I guess so.

I hate that term. It has a hint of condescension that irritates me to no end. Athough, I must admit, I’m a HUGE fan of The Mompreneur magazine and read it religiously. It’s a great resource for any woman in business.

I am a business woman. One that happens to have a child. I’ve wanted my own business since before I can remember. The term “Mompreneur” indicates to me that I need my own catergory. I’d love to see someone call Donald Trump a “Dadpreneur”. That would make for an interesting episode of The Apprentice.

I guess the term just has that little “pat on the head” component to it. Like someone saying “Oh, aren’t you a cute little mom trying to start a business from her basement. Isn’t that sweet?”. Like we have no right to be here.

And I do. I have paid my dues like everyone else and I deserve the right to call myself an Entrepreneur. I’ve sacrificed and taken the same risks as everyone else. No one has given me a free ride because I am a mom.

Granted, there are some differences being in business as a mother. I often indulge my son with things I never would have had I not had to be on the phone with a potential client or my accountant. Yes, Jack has had quite a few lollipops in a row and watched far too much TV due to business calls. My house is usually in some state of disarray and I ignore my husband in the evening to reply to pressing emails.

I don’t really have a schedule. My life revolves around my business and my family and whatever is the most urgent gets my attention, and sometimes what gets it is not what should. I continually feel like I’m walking a tightrope, trying to do everything yet doing nothing the best that I could.

It’s all about picking my battles, and at the end of the day, even with household tasks not completed, and vendors unanswered, I know I’ve done my best, and I find a way to let it go.

All that aside, I AM a business woman. One who, along with purchase orders, business cards and tax forms in my briefcase also has the odd crayon and toy truck floating around in there. Oh and Tootsie rolls, cause they’re just good in every situation.

I can still be firece,  granted I’m a little softer around the edges, both physically and mentally, since having my wee one. And I think that’s a good thing. I still look fabulous in a business suit.  Although, if while walking downtown, in stilettos, with my typical confident swagger you happen to see a cheerio or goldfish cracker stuck to my butt, so be it.

I’m a Mompreneur.

The Women in my Life

After reflecting on all my ramblings and realizing I should probably change the name of my blog to “The Musings of a Crazy Woman” I realize that things in my life have happened very organically. And honestly that is something that is important to me.

I have had so many jobs, it’s become a joke in my family circle. But if there is one thread of consistancy it is this, that I want to connect with people. I need to. I need people to feel like I hear them and they me. Because, after all, what is life without authentic interactions? It’s is one of the things that gives me true satisfaction in my life.

On that note, I felt the need to address the women in my life who have heard me. Who have made me comfortable with who I am, and in doing so, have given me the confidence in following my dream.

My dream? To be a successful woman in business for herself, while cultivating a healthy and nurturing family environment. Someone who is socially conscious and who creates something that actually helps people. Looking back, after all of the challenges and near-nervous breakdowns I’ve had, I can’t help but think:  ”Clearly I could’ve thought up an easier dream?” But seriously, commiting myself to winning the lottery just didn’t seem like a well thought out plan.

So how have I coped? Perservered? Maintained my focus?

The women in my life.

No disrespect to my husband, who is a constant source of love and support (you know I love you Kev).

And my dad, who is and always will be, my hero.

It’s always been the women in my life that have been a primary source of inspiration to me. Mainly because we all – especially if we have kids – can understand the daily challenges of being a mother in today’s world. The feminist movement really didn’t do anything to propel us into an easier life. We were liberated from the kitchen in the fifties, while our men were at war, only to realize when we came home from our jobs, there were still dirty dishes in the sink, and children’s waxy ears to scrub and laundry to do. I honestly feel like the feminist movement just gave us more tasks. Because as we left the kitchens nobody replaced us.

Off on a tangent, I will get back to my original point. This is not a post bashing men, simply a post that celebrates my female comrades.

First off, there is my family. The people who think the sun rises and sets with me (don’t you?). My mom, my inspiration and my touchstone. For anyone who has read my blog they know my thoughts on her. She was and is still the best mom in the world. She has her bad points, don’t get me wrong, but my little spirit couldn’t have picked a better guardian. I look forward to her calls, and often find myself irritating her through mine.

Then there is my Auntie Louise, who I often think of as another mother. I have no bigger fan. Everything I do, in her eyes, is amazing, and she absolutely can’t imagine that I may have made some bad choices. It’s simply not an option. She thinks I am the best thing sinced sliced bread and can never be swayed any other way. I love her dearly.

Next, my sister. We couldn’t be more different, and yet we are the same. We parent so differently, yet our goals are always the same. She handles a high pressured job with ease, and has always been wise beyond her years. I often feel sad about our birth order, she had so much more stress growing up than I did. I got away with more simply by learning from her mistakes. She blazed the trail so to speak. She taught me how to swim, how to ride a bike, tolerated the timid little kindergarten knocks on her grade two classroom door, only to have to take her little sister by the hand to the bathroon because she didn’t know how to work the clasps on her overalls, and certainly didn’t trust a teacher to do so. And, even though she wasn’t extremely confrontational in her own circle, she would have kicked anybody’s ass if they messed with me. I was lucky to have her in my corner, where she continues to be.

I have a myriad of friends, some from highschool, some new (specifically in my women’s groups and forums). Those that seek out authentic relationships with other women while reserving judgement. Devina, Sarah, Jen and Darcie – my women’s circle that disbanded but yet managed to maintain contact, proving that when women make connections, we keep them.

My friend Jessica, who is as diligent about self-improvement as I am, who always reflects my concerns about myself in a positive way, and tells me she loves me. We read far too many self-help books, but we always have a frame of reference. She is genuine and beautiful, and I know no other person who is as real and honest and good.

And lastly but not certainly not least, my friend “M”. I will not post her full name in this blog, which is public, because she is a private person and is fiercely protective of that, given her brief appearance and subsequent dissapearance from Facebook. No, I don’t buy that you never kept up with the site. I know the internet freaks you out at times. What can I say about her? She is my “new” friend. Isn’t that funny that I still think of her that way even though I have known her since I was 17, almost half my life. I guess that’s how you feel about people you did not form friendships with in school, even though I really don’t talk to any of those friends now. Our friendship has stood the test of time, moving across the country, having children, changing jobs, marital distress, and the like. When I phone her, I am home, wherever I am. She never gets tired of my rants, she hates the people who have wronged me today and loves them when I forgive them tomorrow. She always thinks I look good, even though I’ve gained twenty pounds. She accepts me as I am. I really don’t know what I would do without her, my little touchstone from England, and I have no idea if she realizes how important she is to me. We are so different in so many ways. She has some odd habits that I won’t go into detail about, English humour I don’t understand, and a relationship to something called “Marmite”, a spread made out of onions and yeast that I will never understand nor be brave enough to try. She is also far too enamoured with Wal-Mart, something I definitely need to overlook. Her influnce has also changed me, in terms of my husband, who is an english major, and his irritation at my use of the word “advert” instead of advertisment, and the family members that have no idea what I’m talking about when I say someone has “the knock” with me or that my son had a “paddy” in the grocery store because I didn’t buy him another Hot Wheels. I’m sure she has the same reaction when she goes home and is so clearly Canadian. I was lucky enough to be there for birth of her son. Driving in the middle of the night — unknowingly pregnant myself – on Vancouver Island, with no idea where I was going, I wound up missing the turn off to the hospital and hit the next town forty minutes away. I heard something in her voice when she went into labour that lit a fire under me. She said she was OK, but her inflection said I needed to come, end of story. I know what’s going on with her, even though she, on most occasions would probably never say it, and it really doesn’t need to be said, and vice versa. We often end up calling each other at the same precise moment. She is one of the most cherished people in my life. Someone who listens to me far too much. Love you “M”. You are my best friend.

The women in my life are so important to who I am, whether they listen, prod, encourage, support, reflect or challenge.

We are such a great gender.

To all the women who have supported other women, you are a gift. One that I will continue to acknowledge on my journey to, oh let’s face it, I have no idea where.

Love you girls.

xoxox

Moving Up, Moving Out

Oh what a weekend! Moving into a new space always brings challenges. We have a great new place but I really didn’t expect to be cussed out by the movers. Nice!

Thank-goodness it’s over. I’m never moving again! We have wonderful place on the river and I’m going to live here until I’m in my eighties and when I die they can just throw me off the dock and use me as bait.

We’ve had lots of milestones here, my son potty trained (much to my relief as I was beginning to think I’d have a 21 year old still in diapers). He also slept in his “big boy” bed for the first time. He’s growing up so quickly. It makes me so proud, but with that pride comes sadness as well – I don’t have a baby anymore.

On a side note, I had to put out a few fires business wise. Components that have not been dyed and the like. I had no idea what I was getting into when I started this business, nor how tired I’d be. I’m soooooo tired. Allergies have contributed to my exhaustion. Who knew cottonwood trees could wreck such havoc? When did life get so hard? Ugh… but my son did learn how to ride his tricycle, so amazing. The highs and lows of the days are so crazy, is everyone’s life like this?

I guess so.

It’s a delicate balance, motherhood. I feel so worried on most days but I experience a joy as a mom that I never knew before my little guy made his grand entrance into this world. I love how he runs in circles, much to others dismay. He’s a bit crazy, but so I am I; though I must admit, I’ve never tried it, the running in circles, I mean. I’ve definitely felt like I’ve been chasing my tail at times, but he does it with such careless abandon and exhuberance I just want to join him. What a great example he is. My son, in all his little childhood insanity, keeps me sane. Thank heaven for him.

I’m slated for production on August 11th. At this point I’m just rolling with the punches…and I’ve been punched alot.

I’m sporting some major corporate bruises here, but again, my little guy can ride a bike and use the toilet, is there anything better?

I think not.

I love my life:)

 

The Mommy Wars

SO in an effort to keep myself current on all things mom and baby, I am spending vast amounts of time on the computor doing “research”. I find my self plugged in too much.

I have found sites that are of great support as a mother, but I’ve also found something more disturbing.

There is a war going on out there.

While I have always been amazed at womens capacity to love and support each other, there is also alot of “mother flaming” going on. Whether it is about bottle or breastfeeding, working in or outside the home, having medical interventions during labour or going “au naturel”, vaccinating or not or chosing to delay said vaccines. We women have alot of opinions about these things, and they aren’t always said in the nicest way, my self included. I have found myself being baited more than once into unproductive conversations that can get downright nasty.

Why the mudslinging? We can all have our opinions, can’t we?

Unfortunately, on the internet, we don’t always know what intention some comments have been said with, we can’t hear tone or see facial expressions. What seems funny to one can be outright offensive to another.

So let me be the first to wave the white flag.

In my constant quest for personal self growth I must acknowledge my own part in ”The Mommy Wars” and am commited to being more loving, gentle, and compassionate. Traits I hope to facilitate in my own son. 

So here’s to not flaming, fanning the flammers or just having bad manners. 

The war is over, at least at this womans keyboard.

Blessings fellow mothers, we are in this together and for the long haul. It takes a village, and only we can determine, and change if need be, how supportive that village will be.

Tired but Wired

Here I am again. Manufacturing problems.

Can anything happen smoothly?

I’ve had enough, pattern problems, fabric problems, project management problems and very sensitive egos.

I’ve had my share of anxiety. I’m so tired, yet I can’t sleep. I’m tired but wired. I hear the concern in my mothers voice. How I wish I could go a day without speaking to her, but I miss her desperately when she’s gone. I rely on her to reflect my own feelings, however inaccurate. As only a mother can guage her own child, I’m very aware that she’s aware I’m teetering on the edge. Mommas know everything, no matter how creatively deceptive you are. I  cannot hide my stress.

That being said, I had an interesting day. I had a very large amount of components in transit that got “lost”. With no tracking number and no way to recoup the loss. The package in question was found and we avoided another near miss. Something I should be used to by now. How I wish I had time for the nervous breakdown I so greatly deserve.

In addition, I now find myself responsible for two other young charges for the next week. My niece and nephew. For those of you have ever tried to keep track of three children under the age of eight at a park with numerous blind spots, you will get my drift. Why did I take on more?

I guess because hearing the stress in my sisters voice, someone I love and admire, in terms of where her children were going to be, I wanted to be of help and reassurance.  Just as she has been throughout my life. After all, she was the one who woke up if I was sick, and let me sneak into her bed when I was scared and got kicked out of my parents room (yes Kim, I do remember that).

So, there I was, with no product, no money, no semblence of relaxation, trying to keep track of three kids, all of which took turns hitting each other in the back seat of my Cherokee, and with my insistance of “keep your hands to yourself or you’ll have to walk home,” in my rear view mirror, saw a little Croc encased foot swing out to kick my nephew. Yes, it was my son, my sweet little three year old angel who became a hoodlum, like the rest of them.

Sitting on the park bench I could feel my mind swimming, so much to do. And did my son eat from all five food groups today? Can I incorporate more soy protein into his diet?

I felt the prickly heat at the back of my neck, my shoulders tensing, my heart pounding, my throat closing over, and wondered why I didn’t take my doctor up on the offer of Ativan.

And then my little niece and nephew, unprompted, came up to me to say thank-you for the slurpies that were a shade of blue that does not exist in nature, and my niece said she would help me look after the boys because she was the oldest.

And I realized they weren’t always going to think I was cool.

And then my son came up to me with his dirt encrusted finger nails, and said I was his best friend.

And I looked at their three little purple stained mouths.

And I smiled.

And I was greatful.

And the tension lifted.

And the anxiety went away.

And I felt blessed.

For these little people who made me realize what was important today.

And life was good.

 

How quickly things change.

 

 

What’s in a name?

“That by which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet?”

Oiy! Name issues!

I love my business name. It’s so much a part of who I am in this business now. I have a definite emotional connection to it. I have been working on this enterprise for so long it has become one of my babies.

Unfortunately, through the process of trademarking, I have found out I can no longer use it. I figured that because of all my online research as well as the inquiries that had to be done when I incorporated I would be safe, but no, I’m not.

So, what’s the answer? I have to change my name. Which I’m OK with now. I had quite a few tears when I found this out a few weeks ago but I’ve recovered. Just as I have recovered a number of times through the last year with all the challenges I’ve gone through trying to create a Canadian product. This whole “entrepreneurial thing” has wound up being about plan “B”, because plan “A” almost always seems to go in the toilet.

Welcome to business.

So stay tuned, the new name will be revealed shortly …

Breastfeeding and Honey

After much research into what people are searching for when they visit my blog, I have noticed one common thread: Nursing mothers are concerned about honey consumption while breastfeeding.

Honey can be potentially dangerous while pregnant – especially raw honey – because of a deadly botulism spore that can harm the unborn fetus. This is a valid concern and unpasteurized honey should not be consumed while pregnant (thanks to a loyal reader and some additional research, you CAN consume raw honey while pregnant as our own stomach acid kills the spores-yeah!). The same goes for sushi, unpasteurized soft cheeses and deli meat (due to lysteria), or any other raw food that might contain bacteria that may be benign for the regular person, but harmful to a pregnant mama. Anything “tartar” is a no-no, with the exception of tartar sauce.

The foods listed above are relatively safe while breastfeeding, as mom’s own gut flora and immune system will filter out anything dangerous that may transfer into her milk. This excludes any kind of prescription or over the counter drugs. For right now, let’s just focus on food.

If you want more information I suggest you look here. This is an area at Kellymom that discusses this topic and gives loads of resources and links.

The worst thing you can do as a breastfeeding mom is NOT eat, so get going on dinner!

Bon Appetite!

 

Lions and Tigers and Textiles-Oh My!

Oh my goodness. It has certainly been an interesting two months. Trying to get this product off the line has been a challenge.

Textiles have been such a pain in the butt. As soon as we test mould a fabric and it works, poof! The company goes under or the fabric runs out. How could things get any more difficult?

At times, I have been worried that I would not be able to produce a product in Canada, I’m still worried about this. Domestic manufacturing brings challenges that are totally unique. But, we have found some good sources of fabric that are actually of good quality and pretty, so again my confidence has been renewed.

Thank-you to all for you patience and perseverance. I have had to learn many a lesson in patience as things have progressed. But progressing they are.

I see the light at the end of the fabric tunnel.