semi-extreme makeover: bedroom edition

We moved into our first house when Laine was only about 4 months old.  I spent a lot of time and energy fixing up her room (transferring wall decals tediously from her old room on wax paper then obsessing over where it should go in the new room, turning her curtains into mounted canvas wall art when they didn't fit the windows, organizing her HUGE closet) and painting the rest of the house.  My mom and I matched wall colors to rugs and moved the living room chairs about 87 times and re-purposed the guest room closet into a tiny home office for Joe.  But in all of that, the master bedroom kind of fell to the wayside.  I found a paint color I fell in love with and my mother-in-law did a beautiful job painting the room and the attached bath, but that was about it.  We inherited our bedroom set from my parents when they got new stuff a few years ago (free = awesome) and while I was so happy to not have to scrounge furniture from thrift stores and yard sales, it's not really my style.  Our old bedding went into the guest room since it didn't match the new color scheme so we settled for an uncovered duvet and some new sheets.

 This is a pretty accurate "before" shot, although I did do an artsy project and paint a bunch of different red, black, silver, and white "C"s and hang them over the bed.  The jeans on the floor on Joe's side of the bed are also quite accurate.  There's nothing wrong with the room, it just doesn't do anything for me.  Yawn.

So as part of my Christmas list, I told Joe I wanted to finally do something about the room.  I started looking for inspiration pictures on Pinterest and trying to pin down (HA) exactly what I wanted to change.  But every room I liked had either white or black furniture and I just couldn't envision the room looking much different as long as we had this furniture.  And we can't exactly afford a whole new bedroom set right now.  Soooo...

We PAINTED it!

The transformation is not complete... we still have to paint the huge dresser that sits on the wall across from the bed, I think I'm going to take down the "C"s and put up a collage wall of black and white photos, I want to replace the lamps and the bedspread and my giant ugly alarm clock, move the hampers from the foot of the bed to somewhere that Joe's clothes might actually come in contact with them, put a bookshelf on the wall to the right for added storage options, etc.  BUT it's a great start.  We even managed to get the swirly carved thing off the headboard (and the dresser mirror) before we painted!  I'm really happy with how it changes the look of the room so far and it's definitely motivated me to continue working to make the room somewhere I am proud of and enjoy being in.  Here are a few more "during" photos...

 The nightstands getting primed and ready! (HA... I'm on a roll today, y'all.)

 Joe getting in on the action... and a glimpse of Bag-lady Laine in the background.

 The mirror that attaches over the dresser with the funky swirly thing that we managed to pry off.

My nightstand, painted and dry but still needing a little TLC in the decor department.

And a Fitness magazine.

BOO!

One of the best things about having kiddos is having an excuse to get crazy excited about the holidays.  And to go see all the new Pixar/Disney/Muppet movies.  Not that I really needed an excuse.

Anyway,  Happy Halloween from my little monsters!

letter to my second-born

Dear Lawton,

Let me start by telling you how lucky you are.

You have a father whose number one priority is providing for our family and whose greatest joy is seeing you and your sister grow and learn. You have the most amazing big sister; she wakes up in the morning asking where you are, spends the day bringing you pacifiers, teacups, and plastic hamburger buns, and gives you a kiss goodnight when she goes to bed. Your extended family is exactly that- an extension of our family. Days after meeting you they had already posted hundreds of pictures of you on facebook. They adore you and will support everything you do for the rest of your life. Even your dogs are awesome.

Now let me tell you how lucky I am.

Almost four weeks ago, I gave birth to you, my beautiful and healthy baby boy, weighing in at only an ounce less than your older sister. You made me a mother of "two under two". You've brought even more joy to an already joyful family and even more light into an already brilliant life. You have shown me your father and your sister in new roles that make me love them even more. You are teaching me every day about the kind of mother I want to be and the kind of mother I am capable of being.

I miss nights of continuous sleep and days of guaranteed showers. I could do without getting spit up on 7,000 times a day and changing 10 cloth diapers an hour. I'm not a fan of screaming gassy fits and 2 hour feeding schedules. But all of that pales in comparison to the love I feel for you and how very, truly, wonderfully happy I am that you are part of our family now.

Welcome, son.


Love,
Mommy

eight

Jaime,

I've lost count of how many times I have started to write and then deleted my first sentence. Even this one sat, cursor blinking at the end, for a good few minutes before I decided I needed to just keep typing. I guess part of the problem is that I don't WANT it to have been yet another year. Another year means another layer of memory worn away by time, another year that I'm closer to being older than you ever were, another year of art and stories and jokes and pranks that never were and never will be.

But I guess that's not the way to look at it. One of your good friends (and mine) made the point that the way to recognize the day of your leaving us is to bring a little bit of you back for those who knew and loved you and share it with the people who were never lucky enough to do so. "Go make someone smile for absolutely no reason. Or find a reason to laugh until it hurts. Or just do something completely unexpected." And that is what you would have wanted, maybe even expected, us all to do.

I can't help but indulge in a selfish moment of sadness, though. For the loss of getting to know who you would have become in your 30s (and 40s and 50s and so on...). For my children, who will never know you. For my mother, for all that she endured eight years ago and so many days since then and all of the memories that haunt her, as they do so many others who were there that weekend. For the dancers and the artists and the actors and the students that miss your presence both onstage and off. For the bear hugs that I miss so very much... so very often... even now.

At least I know, though, that I have grown into a person over these last eight years that you would have wanted to know. You'd be proud of the woman I am becoming, the man that I married, the children I am raising. You'd be amazed by my sisters, and by the little girls you choreographed for and mentored and teased and loved so much, now all stunning and successful women. There's so much you would love about being here now. And there are so many of us who wish that you still were.

I love you.

"What has small balls and hangs down? ... Just answer the question. What has small balls and hangs down? Right, a bat. So what has big balls and hangs up?"

a letter to my son

Dear Baby Boy,

I love feeling you squirm and kick and roll and punch, watching my body morph as you grow. I love pulling out all of the little tiny onesies and hats and sleepers and sorting them into piles, figuring out what might fit you... wondering just how big you might be when you make your debut. I love seeing Laine start to understand about you, hugging and petting and talking to my belly, welcoming her little brother before she even sets eyes on you (oh, and she HAS tested some of your toys for you... hope that's ok). I love knowing where you are at all times, safe and sound and warm and happy and QUIET.

But, darling son, now that it's August? You can come out whenever you're ready.

I love you already, so very much.

Mommy

PS - You have a very sweet face, little one.

mommyhood is...

Aiming all of the air vents toward the back seat on a 100 degree day (bonus points for being 7 and a half months pregnant).

Leaving the bedroom door open all night to be sure to hear those first little noises in the morning.

Timing your showers with an episode of Elmo's World.

Reading Sam and the Firefly 4,767 times. Which is probably about 4,765 more times than you actually wanted to.

Wanting to go in and watch your sweet sleeping one's face... but not as badly as wanting them to stay sweet and sleeping.

Relating to the parents of reality show contestants sometimes even more so than the contestants themselves (hey, proud mama crying in the audience... I totally feel ya).

Taking more pictures and videos over a year and half than the other 26 years of your life combined. And thinking everyone surely wants to look at them as much as you do.

Becoming fluent in toddler-ese.

Realizing a dream by driving home a Toyota Sienna, humming the "Swagger Wagon" song to yourself as you pull out of the lot (past all of the hot convertibles... which are just SO not practical right now).

think on this

If you are a mommy (or a daddy), most especially of the stay-at-home variety, read this. I found that it said a lot of the things I have said or though about the importance and difficulty and monotony and wonder and drudgery and joy of being home with kids all day in such a beautiful, empowering way.