Well, where do I start? The past ten years have gone in the blink of an eye, such has been our workload, not to mention the arrival of our two beautiful, funny, energetic daughters, Lucy and Martha! But here we are and this is what we have achieved through a decade of long working days, very little sleep, a smidgen of time off and a few heart stopping bank statements…
Growing up I wanted two things. To run my own business and be a mum. I never really thought how the two would go together but when they happened within months of each other I soon found out.
I started our parent company, Lucy Willow, shortly after the birth of my eldest daughter by hosting home accessories and French furniture parties. I really wanted to spend as much time as I could with my little girl but needed to earn money too. After discovering the beauty and elegance of French furniture in a wedding dress boutique (another tale for another day!) I saw a gap in the market and dived in.
The parties were very successful but proved hard work and time consuming. It was hectic trying to juggle trips to the wholesalers with a young baby in tow. It makes me a little light headed just to think about those days now! The business gradually evolved into selling larger pieces of furniture which meant I could reduce the parties and work more from home. This might sound easy in theory but anyone with children will tell you that it’s far from ideal – especially since our entrance hall was moonlighting as my temporary storage space and getting ever narrower by the minutes. We were forced to adopt the side-stepping gait of a crab to see us through this period.
It was nothing if character building. Building multiple characters that is. I say this because my attention was constantly diverted as I struggled to be three people at once. Eventually, my husband Jason came on board, by which time the company had grown sufficiently to warrant a showroom and a website. This took the office away from our home and gave us some degree of separation – and a spacious hall – although working with my husband meant we were constantly talking ‘shop’ over dinner!
Life became a little more manageable as we settled into our new routine but the business was still experiencing growth. Little Lucy Willow was taking off which meant long hours designing our exclusive children’s bedroom furniture ranges, sourcing materials and marketing our new products.
One of our early designs.
We were trying to accommodate these new demands whilst preparing for the arrival of our second child, Martha. I thought I would cope much better this time around having been in at the deep end with Lucy, but as the workload was much greater, I felt the strain even more. I found myself juggling school drop offs and pick ups with manning the showroom and being a new mum. Oooohhh, I almost have to lie down when writing sentences like that!… Thankfully, I have a wonderfully supportive family, without whom, I wouldn’t have managed any of it. Mum’s are amazing, if I do say so myself…
Lucy and Martha all grown up!
There would be days when everything seemed impossible. The housework would end up at the bottom of my priority list as I battled through each task. I would come home to piles of laundry, washing up and a crumb scattered carpet. However, despite how tired I felt and how busy life had become, the business remained a great focus and I was yet more resolved to making it work now we had a small family to support.
We are still evolving, designing, sourcing and manufacturing so our workload is great, but manageable. These days I can drop the children off in the morning and pick them up each afternoon, one of the many perks of having my own business. Jason and I have striven to make Little Lucy Willow work for our family and I think we are finally getting there.
Before marriage and children came along I believed anything was possible. I still believe that now but am also well aware of what it takes to succeed in both business and at home. Ok, maybe my domestic duties could do with a brush up but I’m not too bad at business. Ahem. Now where’s that trumpet of mine…?