He has the best outlook on life. Every chance he has to be somewhere new, he’ll explore it. Every time he sees something unknown, his curiosity shines through.
But if in the process he ends up in a really, really comfortable position, then nothing is going to get in-between him and his enjoyment. 
I find myself struggling to juggle and focus in the way that I used to. I prided myself on my ability to switch between my various headspaces as quickly as I wanted to – work, photography business, websites I’m a part of running – and to be able to pick up where I left of and to pursue that line of thought as long as I wanted to. Then the most wonderful thing happened – we had Eli. The amount of changes that have happened to our life are amazing, and I still don’t even have my head wrapped around all of them. Changes that have been good and bad, challenging and joyous. Challenges that should be chronicled another time, though. The surprising one has been my inability to just direct my mind in a certain direction, and let it loose: to dream, plan, critique, and create.
The struggle has come to a head recently, and it has (coincidentally enough) been in my thoughts a fair bit. I’m sure that Eli is not the only contributing factor. Part of it has to do with the place that work is in right now. So many changes have occurred to my job over the last year that my position description now (again) no longer reflects what I actually do. Blissfully, a lot of the crap has been cut from my job, and I’m able to solely focus on the parts that I love, and the parts that stretch me. On top of all that, the changes that are happening to our workplace mean that everything is up for grabs – including the opportunity to start afresh on many aspects that have become either run down over time, or completely neglected or ignored. At the junction of the two changes is me: the new role has me doing a lot more creative and deadline work, and at the same time I have the opportunity to be researching and presenting and pleading the case for things I see we need to be doing that we just flat out aren’t. There are simple, simple things that an organisation of our standing should be doing, which haven’t even been discussed – and we now have the opportunity to look into them. Again, in the forefront of all of those opportunities is me, with the chance to begin to widen the scope of our work, and enhance the quality and professionalism of what we do.
All of that requires time. Time not just to research, collate, present and enact, but time to think. This is where the struggle lands me. There are these marvelous opportunities to push the envelope and in the process push the limits of my professional abilities, and they all require the time and headspace to even begin to do them justice. Don’t get me wrong, the creative work I get to do is fantastic, and barring the odd logistical headache, enjoyable as hell. But having the ability to dream big has me excited about my career in a way I haven’t been for a while. I want to give my headspace over to this to do it justice, but I struggle to find the ability to do that. And all of this is from my nine-to-five job.
The real complicating factor is when you begin to add in the other aspects of my life that require major headspace. I run a photography business on the side. I have clients to deal with, photos to edit, shots to prepare for and actually shoot, a new assistant to encourage, grow and adjust to shooting with someone else, all on top of the other work. I’m part of a team that runs an online community that is undergoing a time of major change and development, and requires thought to go into the future direction we should take. There’s documents to read and ingest, and responses to plan for an upcoming meeting. Not to mention the day to day keeping up with the site itself. I’m also a dad. A dad who gets to work the majority of his time from home, which puts me in the luckiest bracket going. I’m above all of that a husband. All of these things vie for that seemingly ever-diminishing headspace, in a battle that seems to be only ever increasing in intensity.
And then something like this happens:
We just spent eight days on holiday down in Anglesea, and after finally sitting down and worrying about nothing more than meals, Eli, and whether to sit in the sun or the shade, I realised that I needed to stop. It even took me five days before I made this startling realisation, that I needed to slow down, and to breathe. All of those things are a part of my life, that isn’t going to change. But they all also require me to prioritise where my time and headspace to go, and not to let them dictate that to me.
I made this frame of Eli one morning after breakfast. We were camped in amongst these trees that provided shade in the morning (bliss when sleeping under canvas in Summer), and some respite from the coastal wind. Sitting amongst them, feeding Eli his breakfast, the idea came to mind of the image: a child surrounded by twisted, dark trees, but not overcome by them – curious and brave and with a nature of exploration. And that was the particular moment when it all clicked.
The littlest bear no longer will sit or lay down in the bath. Since discovering he can stand, that’s all he’ll do.
He’s got cheek. And he knows it.
I don’t exactly know what happened there. All I know is that for quite a while, I lost my mojo. We found it two nights before Christmas, though. I picked up the camera again, and started taking photos of Eli just after he came out of the bath, as he appeared to be a little too awake to put to bed straight away. Naked, lying on his belly on his change table, and having the time of his life, I snapped away and began to capture our little man in stills. It saddened to look back through my entire catalogue of Eli photos this afternoon, and realise that the last time I’d taken the chance to get some decent photos of him on anything other than a phone was when we shot the photos for his Thank You cards – and that was back in September. Three months have gone by; three months that I’ve missed capturing for the keeping.
I got myself wrapped up a little too tightly in life with him, if I’m honest. My ‘excuse’ was that I was busy enjoying spending time with him, instead of stalking him through the lens. The other ‘excuse’ that went hand in hand was that I didn’t want to think of it as work. But when I’m even more brutally honest, it wouldn’t have been work. I wouldn’t have missed out on spending time with him. I just don’t know what happened.
It’s taken him a few sessions with me pointing a big lens at him for his memory and understanding of just what it is to come back. That first night he wouldn’t look directly at the camera, something he’d figured out very early on. But it is coming back. He’s more and more at ease with the camera each time I’m pointing it at him, and he’s responding more and more to it. And me? It’s given me a completely different kind of joy and excitement at some of the frames I’ve made of my son.
The sheer fact that it’s been nearly four months since Eli was born has left me stumped. How has the time gone that quickly? How has he been able to change in such a (seemingly) short amount of time? When I think through all the changes I’ve seen in him since May, I can’t wrap my head around the fact that he’s so much more advanced, and so much more a little boy than then tiny newborn I first met.
Life with Eli is an absolute joy, however. I don’t know whether I just don’t know enough babies, or have never had such close proximity to one before, but he’s so happy. He smiles and talks and laughs and giggles all of the time. Sure, he has times when he’s whingey and isn’t too interested in being happy, but those times are very very few. He greets me with a huge grin every time I see him, and generally grins all of his way from a feed straight after he wakes, through to when I put him down for a nap – he grins and talks to me and flaps his arms while I put him in his gro-bag and put him to bed.
He goes to work with me on Tuesday mornings. It started early on when Beth needed a little break, and has since just developed into a habit, partly on the insistence of those in the office. They love having him in there, and will come and steal him for cuddles, and take him for a wander around the office while I (somewhat foolishly) attempt to do a small amount of work. He’s not the best at actually sleeping when he’s in the office with me, but he’s helpful. I took him with me to meet with our web developers one morning, and he managed to swing them into giving me a bottle of champagne!
I realise while I’m writing this that I am just spouting new-father drivel, but I am completely enamoured with him. He is such a joy and delight that I can’t help but talk about him.
I’m working on content. I promise.
In the meanwhile, here’s a photo of our little boy.
We’re into a routine, these days. Eli feeds every three-to-four hours during the day, during which we have to wake him for his feeds. At night we let him sleep, and he’ll go anywhere from five to seven hours from start of feed to start of the next. The sleep is wonderful, and we’re making the most of it while it lasts – because it may very well disappear! Random and totally surprising fact: I get more sleep now each night than I did in the year leading up to Eli being born. Anywhere from 8-10 hours. Go figure.
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The remainder of his umbilical fell of the other day. Changing him is now infinitely easier with one less appendage to position correctly in or above the nappy. Also, he now has a belly button, not something hidden under a yellow clip. All good news. Changing, on the other hand, can be hazardous. Not for me, more for the amount of nappies we go through. He’s got this amazing ability to hold off on filling a nappy until just after I’ve put a fresh one on him. Clever, clever boy.
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Zahli is adapting as perfectly as could ever be expected. She loves her little brother, and will race into a room if she hasn’t seen him for a while, find where he is, jump up (if he’s on the couch with Beth) to give him a quick sniff, then happy curl up or continue playing. Other times I’ll find her racing from room to room trying to gauge where he is; when he’s found, she’s happy. She just wants to know where he is. She’s also taking to curling up on the spare bed in his room while I’m in there settling him or changing him – something she never used to do. She wouldn’t even go in that room before he was born, even if we were in there sorting things out.
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Beth is a super woman. While I always knew this, people after people are telling her so. Apparently a lot of women take a lot longer to recover from a caesar/emergency caesar, and the fact that before Eli’s even two weeks old, she’s been up, out, shopping, visiting, attending birthday picnics is some amazing feat. I always knew I had a good wife!
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I’ve realised that now I’m a dad, I’m eventually going to have to confront one of my deepest fears about parenthood. Thankfully it’s not going to rear it’s ugly head for quite a number of years, but it’s no longer something that may happen – it’s bound to, now. Without even having the discussion, I know the responsibility is going to fall to me, even though I’m not looking forward to it any more than Beth is. But I’ll have to take it on, I guess. As much as I can.
Maths homework help is going to seriously suck.
So much needs to be said. So much has happened, which I’m sure most of you (if not all) are across already. So much is running through my mind right now.
Things are good. We’re all settling in at home, and enjoying life. Adjusting, but enjoying the journey. Our little man is as awesome as they come. We could not be more lucky, nor (dare I say it) blessed. He’s simply the greatest thing we’ve had the privilege of being a part of.
I will get my thoughts in order, in the short future. I will get some things written up, and get posting again. Life is good, and I want to share. For now, you’ll have to be content with this.
I feel inspired to write.
It has taken quite some time since this specific inspiration has hit. Creativity isn’t an issue of late, ideas are still flowing – be that slowly or thick and fast, they’re still flowing – but the inspiration to put hands to keyboard in a situation that is not all but ideal for writing has been missing. All it has taken is a glimpse at a photo on the blog of a random person of whom I have no idea who they are, and inspiration hits.
Life has been hurtling along at an amazingly fast speed. Work flies by without much stop, weddings have been shot and turned around every second week, with the opposite week usually containing meetings to book in further clients. I’m not complaining, mind you – with Bop on the way, the extra cash is helpful. And with some of the frames I’ve made over the past six weeks, I’ve been eternally grateful for wonderful clients to work with, who have been nothing but relaxed, warm and totally open to run with what I suggest.
While I’m nothing but happy with the fact I have work there (and almost to the point where I was about to start turning work away), I have mixed feelings at times. There have been a couple of weddings that have involved almost as much time in the car two and from than was actually spent at the wedding – 3.5 hours in the drivers seat is perhaps not the best way to start a day off where creativity, clarity and energy are required to be on and running nonstop. These weddings, while they have been two of the more fun ones to shoot, are more tiring than the others. The second long drive wedding saw me make it only as far as my In-Law’s place where I was picking up Beth, before I crashed. She had to drive the rest of the way home. As often as not, though, it’s the aftermath of the wedding that brings the biggest bag of mixed feelings.
I have the simultaneous joy and dread of living with my number one (me) and number two (Beth) critics. Each wedding Beth looks over the shots from the day and gives me a critique on the images I’ve made. At times it’s daunting to sit next to her as she flicks through everything – while she may not admit it, she’s got one of the sharpest eyes I’ve seen for composition and direction. And she doesn’t hold back if an image is below par. Yet it’s one of the most beneficial parts of each wedding I shoot, as it only serves to hone my vision and keep me on my toes before I click the shutter – I figure that if I can make both her and I happy with each frame I take, the the clients are going to be nothing but happy and grateful for the photos they get.
In my roundabout way of getting to the point, I’m trying to emphasise that while I haven’t been writing, the creativity is still there – thankfully (and it is one of the things, after my wife and my baby that I am most thankful for) it hasn’t gone AWOL on me. The simple fact is that when life gets busy and hard, something gives, and the inspiration, time and discipline to write is often one of the first things to go. That’s not to say that the odd phrase or idea won’t still come into my head; it just doesn’t get translated into any physical form.
The walk to our local supermarket is nothing if not short – 220m or there abouts. As a result, I end up walking there and back at least once on most days. It’s become a short time out in my days where I often do start to compose posts, emails, images or entire shoots in my head. Specifically the walk back when it’s a mild summer evening seems to be the best formula. The walk is never a thoughtless one, but when there’s mounting pressures of deadlines, clients, and the day to day running and engaging in a life for two-plus-another-coming, the time it takes to walk there and back is often the only forum that those thoughts will get until things settle down. And, as the existence of this post indicates, things have settled down.
Tomorrow morning I get to have breakfast with my Dad before meeting some clients. Mum’s actually down in Melbourne tonight, so it’ll just be the two of us tomorrow (his joke was that he can’t provide bacon and eggs, but does do a pretty decent cereal, toast and coffee), but I’m looking forward to it. Things settling down often seems to happen at just the right time for things that have been planned months in advance. I’ve had this client meeting booked for over a month, and dinner tomorrow night with some friends we haven’t seen for a very long time for even longer, yet knowing that things have settled down means that tomorrow is going to be even more enjoyable. I know I won’t be stressed while driving down to Dad’s, and that I’ll enjoy the time with a clear mind not focussed on the meeting ahead. And the drive back will be time for me to sit with a clear head, and enjoy a Saturday morning drive. No pressure. And while I’ll still be aiming to get back to Melbourne as soon as I can, it won’t be a cloud hanging over my head. It will be because I want to get back to my wife, and enjoy these moments of simplicity.
I’m going to be a father. It’s something that at times I still can’t get my head around. It’s an entire life-changing event.. My whole world is going to be turned upside down in an instant. Insert another life-changing cliche here.
The simple fact of the matter is come May, I’m going to be responsible for another life. Bop is going to be personified in a way that will completely change our outlook on life for its duration. Bop will cease to be Bop. Bop will then take on the name that we’ve chosen for him or her, and the only reminder will be the “bop” letters that I’ve been making over the last week. It will be a visual memory of what we called our son or daughter while they were still in utero.
I get asked every now and then both where Bop comes from, and if Bop is going to hang around after they’re born. Thankfully the question that hasn’t been asked is whether Bop is actually the name we’re giving the baby – my patronising look has been spared, and is still safely looked away. I’d like to think that people would think we’d have a bit more understanding and thought for our child’s future than to land them in life having to explain their name at every turn.
Bop came about after an original name for our still-unborn baby was considered, almost put into practice, and then slightly changed to become Bop. And no, I’m not going to either confirm or deny what the other name was. That one will remain locked up. As for the name sticking around once our baby is breathing on its own, I don’t see it hanging around at all.
Before our housemate’s son was born, he was known to one and all as Rocky. Short for Rock Monster. Rocky was all we knew the ever-growing bump as, and I for one thought that I would struggle to make the transition from Rocky to whatever his name was actually going to be. And if I hadn’t lived through the same thing with their son, I may not have been so happy to bandy around the name Bop. Once Rocky was born, it was a non-issue. I think perhaps once my tongue slipped, within 3 or 4 hours of his birth, and I called him Rocky. But even that felt weird, as if I’d called him by his wrong name – which I clearly had. As soon as he was born, and we were informed of his name, the shift in my mind was instantaneous. And so I’m not worried about Bop being called Bop after they come out.
That said, I’m glad I made the letters. They’re lowercase, painted black with a glossy clear coat. And while initially there was some debate as to whether they were going to be wall-mounted or shelf-sat, I’m glad they’re going to be in our kid’s room. A reminder of the journey that this is. And of the hilarious times we had watching him or her kick and make Beth’s stomach move.
