Girls' Room Makeover

Remember?  This is what my girls' room used to look like.

Now, (only) eight months after my baby has arrived (and after a lot of projects and work), it looks like this:

Sweetie's side.

The rug was $20, Target.  It somehow went perfectly with the quilt tops I made from Moda's 'Hunky Dory' line of fabric.

Okay, let's be honest, the quilts aren't done.  Just the tops.  But I didn't want to wait another eight months to take pictures.

I can't put a bedskirt on the crib, because there is a vent underneath it.  So I settled for decorating with a little tulle.  It made the metal frame just a little more girly.  I found the sheet in Target clearance for $5.

Do you love this fabric??

Found this gem of a lampshade in my favorite shop in all of Kansas, Posh.  It is not J's favorite shop.

I made this picture out of matching quilt fabric.  The background is French book pages.  I loved it so much I made some more.

This mirrored hook I found at an antique shop.

The holdbacks were from a different antique shop.  Also not J's favorite shop.

The curtains were from Ikea.

Alas, our old crib was part of the recall.  Darn it, I had to pick a new one.

My friend knew my fabric and made me this garland to match.  What could be cuter than French dresses?

Love. it.

Girlie's side.

I already told you about the lamp and nightstand redo.

Found the chest at the end of the bed at a garage sale for $10.

Wouldn't you love to sleep here?

Even More of the Darndest...

One day I found Sammy cooing over Sweetie.  He goes from tough guy to mush over this little girl.  "Oh, hello my little sweetie!  Hello my little putrid baby!  How is my little putrid doing?"  He went on like this for a while before I said, "Honey, do you know what 'putrid' means?"

He looked a little indignant,  "Yes, of course!  Putrid is that little naked baby who flies around shooting love arrows at people."

Ahh...

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After a hurried morning to get four kids out the door for 2nd grade drop off, I sent the kids to get in the van.  I jumped in and looked in my rear view mirror.  And saw the kids both wearing goggles.
I laughed out loud and asked the kids what they were doing.  They leaned forward so I could see their backpacks.  I cocked my head, still confused.

Totally obvious, "Mommy, we're parachuters." 

Of course they're parachuters!

So, I obligingly accelerated so they could get a good liftoff, or whatever parachuters need.  Sammy called out on his hand radio "Echo base, echo base, come in Firewalker!"

That is an awesome way to start the day.

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Sometimes my kids use words they don't know, in really funny ways.  Today, they were 'babysitting' Sweetie while I pulled a peach pie out of the oven.  They danced around her chanting "Car-bo-hy-drates!  Car-bo-hy-drates!"

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The kids busied themselves this afternoon making leprechaun traps.  I overheard them as they were cutting up all sorts of recyclables.

Girlie:  Maybe we can make a slide under this rainbow so he'll go down into a trap!

Sammy (shaking his head, a little disgusted at her ignorance):  No, Girlie, leprechauns won't go down there if your rainbow colors are in the wrong order.

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Overheard as I walked by the playroom:

Sammy:  Isn't Justin Bieber a girl?

Young and Sweet, Only 17...

That was kind of how I felt last night,  at a church youth dance.  J and I chaperoned at what was the first youth dance I've been to in, say, over 15 years.  The music was blaring, groups of girls flocked together shrieking, a few free spirits danced, completely uninhibited--just the way I remember.  Oh. so. fun.  The groups gathered, no one really dancing at first.  Everyone a little too anxious over what everyone else was doing. 

Lucky for me, a couple fun girlfriends of mine were also chaperones, and we had no problem getting our groove on.  I guess someone has to teach these kids how to have fun at dances (and we figured that if we were going to be spending 3 hours there, we might as well burn some calories). I wanted to tell these kids that now is the time to figure out how to dance, how to talk to someone of the opposite sex, how to interact with people.  Do it now, before you go to college!  Figure out who you are!  Be confident in who you are! 

Probably the highlight of the night was when I got asked to dance.  Seriously.  Cute young man came up and asked me if I'd like to dance.  My face registered flattered surprise while I searched for the right words (thinking that "Dude, I'm married" wasn't going to be it). My friend Vanessa explained kindly, "She's a leader."  Oh, he was mortified.  I felt sooooo bad for him, he was so embarrassed!  I wanted to say, "But good for you for being so brave to ask someone to dance!  And if I were 15 years younger, not married with four kids, I would totally dance with you!"  I even offered to help him look for someone else (probably should have just left it alone); he declined.

So interesting, though, to see a dance from this perspective.  Because, while 33 is still totally young and hip, some wisdom of years cast a new light on ...people's characters, I guess.  There was the pretty girl in black lace and 4" heels that said no (in the rudest way) to the dance invitation of a really brave, nice guy.  There were the guys that were actually way too cool to be there, but showed up anyway--just to show a little disdain, I think.  There was the guy who sat on the side with headphones on and refused every invitation.  But then, there were the girls that were confident enough in themselves to dance their funky dances without caring that no one else was.  The guy who wore knee pads to the dance because he knew he'd be breaking it down on the dance floor, even if no one else watched.  The big, slightly awkward guy who had a genuine smile on his face the whole night and took every opportunity to dance.  And the young man who, after being dismissed by black lace girl, just went and asked another girl to dance.  She said yes.  These are the kids who are setting themselves up for success.

And despite the slight despair I've been feeling over the state of the world and mankind, I watched these kids...and felt hope.

A Little Misleading

One thing that's great about being in a huge ward (church) is that there are tons of other girls interested in the same things you are, which means there are tons of fun clubs.  I go to Book Club, and Gardening Club, Craft night and Recipe Swap, and Playgroup.  And, no, that's not nearly all of them.  So it was no surprise that I saw a clipboard being passed around on Sunday for a new group.  What is it? I asked my friend.  A Hookers Club, was the response.

A Hookers Club? I'm sorry...?

I looked at the sign up.  Sure enough, it was titled "The Hookers Habit."  I know what you're thinking...the same thing I was...

...crochet.

I know, because that's the first thing that comes to mind when you hear about the habits of hookers, right?  I was actually a little too amused with it to actually sign up for the club, which I meant to do.  So, probably this Sunday I'll sign up to be a hooker.  And I'll form a new habit.  Involving yarn and crochet hooks.

Mid Winter Break

We had mid-winter break recently.  Lots of our friends went to Mexico or Hawaii or Disneyland.  We thought it sounded way more fun to just stay home. :)  So here's what we did:

Made homemade gak.

Try some, you might like it.  So will your kids.

Japanese night.

Then we got some serious snow (really, we did; this was the start, in a few hours we had a few inches).

We hit Jump Planet with some friends. Nothing like using up a bunch of energy.

Because taking a pleasant picture, let alone a normal one, is out of the question.

The kids also put on a play for us.  Never mind the boys.  For some reason they're acting out Star Wars when Darth Vader chokes that guy with the dark side of the force.

That reminds me, though, the other night Sammy was scared so I came to his room.  "I think I heard Darth Vader in the bathroom!"  No, honey, Darth Vader's not here.  Let me check. 'Darth Vader?  Daa-aarth.  Darthy?'  "Mommy!!!" he looked at me with big, scared eyes, "I don't think he likes to be called that!!!"

We also had "Camping Night" where we made smores over our gas stovetop and slept in the tent (in the playroom).

Seriously, why go to Hawaii?

When I Grow Up

A ballerina.  That was my first choice.  I sat there and watched Swan Lake and decided that I, too, wanted to wear a fluffy costume and flit around.  It's the earliest thing I can remember wanting to be.  I was maybe 4 or 5, taking ballet.  I dug in my heels every time class time rolled around, but once I was dancing I loved it.  Not sure when the dream faded, but I've settled for dancing with my kids around the kitchen.

Then I watched 'Father of the Bride' and decided that I wanted to be a wedding planner.  Hel-lo, planning beautiful weddings for a living?  Flowers?  Cake?  Fancy dresses???  What could be better.  That dream lasted for a while, interrupted only by a short stint when I wanted to be a doctor--even when I started at BYU I went into Public Relations.  It was the closest thing to a party planning major I could find.  And then I planned my own wedding and changed my mind (I'll just play wedding planner to my little girls).  By then I had switched to Interior Design, following in the footsteps of my mother.  It also seemed to lead along in the party planning direction, but it was much more inspiring to examine textiles than it was to examine statistics.  A life in all things to "gladden the eye"?  My cup of tea.  {Of course, I wanted to be a mom, and not like a friend put it "Yes, I've thought that I wanted to take five years off and be a mom, too."  But for today's purposes, I'm not talking about the higher calling of a mother, but about a paying gig.} 

I landed in the perfect place for me.  After doing my time in the trenches, working for other designers, retail showrooms, what have you, I lived my dream of having my own interior design business.  I was my favorite boss ever.  I LOVED my clients, felt completely inspired in what I did, found enormous satisfaction from creating beautiful spaces that people loved to be in.  That I got paid was just an amazing bonus. It was a dream job. 

Now that I have four little ones that keep me hopping, it's not practical for me to work much.  Well, actually when people ask me if I work, I tell them I work very hard, I just don't collect a paycheck.  Of course I wouldn't change it for the world, and feel grateful every day for my home time.  But the crazy haired artist inside me still wonders what I'll be when I grow up.  I toss around ideas all the time (including being a missionary in a 3rd world country!  I know, me, who just now likes camping!).  The yearning to create and spread beauty cannot be squelched.

When J was in undergrad, he sat in an auditorium filled with business students.  The professor asked for a show of hands of those who were in business for the love of it.  Only a scant handful raised their hands (lucky for me, J was one).  The others, given no need for money, said they'd be a photographer, a gym teacher, a florist, etc.  How sad, I thought.  While there is only honor in honest labor, working at a job I hate sucks the life out of me until I wither and want to die.  And that's no way to live.  Why not chase after your passion?

Instead I dream of the little shop I'll have some day with handcrafted goodness and beautiful things to make your house a home.  Come visit me.  We'll share a cup of hot chocolate (when, finally, I'll be done nursing and can eat from my favorite food group again) and chat about life. 

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm busy currently raising a veterinarian, an astronaut, possibly a comedian, and (as far as I can tell) someone who just sits there looking extremely cute.

Tell me, what do you want to be when you grow up?

Mixin' It Up (in the family room)

So I fell in love with a rug.  It's beautiful, plush, big, and a lot less money than you'd expect for something 8'x11'.  I planned a whole room around it, too.  Picked out paint, planned to swap out the current window panels for my summer ones, new art, new accent colors, new pillow covers to sew, new wall treatment, everything.  It was going to be grand. 

I explained the whole thing to J.  Many times over the last few weeks, in fact.  I always got a "Mmm..." type response, so during our weekly 'Relationship Inventory', I honed in on him.  It was committment time.  He listened this time.  And then said "No."  So vexing.  He pointed out the cost--I explained why it was actually saving us money (he went to sleep still laughing about that one).  I explained that "This is what I do, though" and he countered with 'you already did this a year and half ago'.  He pointed out that we already have a rug and it isn't all thrashed; I pointed out that, actually, it's damaged in a few spots; he pointed out that, actually, you can't see the spots from the surface.  I told him I just 'didn't feel inspired by this room'; he suggested I go to a different room.

I refered to him as DC (Dream Crusher) for a few days.  It's not my fault he doesn't care if a room is inspiring or not.  He suggested maybe we 'need to get you working again.'  (He doesn't actually want me to work, he would just rather spend my 'need for inspiration' on someone else's home).  I kind of heaved a lot of heavy, dramatic sighs that night.  Designers and finance guys don't always see eye to eye.

But designers are tough people.  As Karla Nielson, my favorite BYU teacher would say "Designers are problem solvers."  I don't know how you deal with problems.  Everyone has their own way.  Some crazy people go running to soothe themselves, some eat, some do yoga.  Me?  I rotate artwork and rearrange furniture, redo my mantel and re-accessorize. 

My spirit wouldn't be crushed for long, and in an act of...defiance?...I dug through my stores of decor-in-waiting.  I grabbed some nails and a hammer, and raided my closets for forgotten pretties.  That's right, just try and stop me from hanging the maps we got on our cruise 4 1/2 years ago and moving the little apothecary to the mantel and putting those little 'useless' ceramic balls front and center.  Oh, I don't stop there!  I will go to Home Depot for a dowel to hang that linen towel on the wall, and plate hangers to mount those beauties I found at that boutique in Kansas over Christmas! (We've moved onto the kitchen now).  No, don't bother asking me why, oh, why I keep putting things above our cabinets.

What a rush.  When I finally put the hammer and the candles down and took a deep breath, I felt happy.  It looked good, maybe even a teensy bit inspiring. And J came home and loved it.  A win-win.   And I didn't spend a dime.  Well, any  additional dimes anyway. 

{Framed maps that I bought for a few dollars in two of the ports on our cruise)

{Pillows that I re-covered with cloth napkins I found for $1}

{Garden decor I found at the end of the season for $7}

{A Christmas present that one of my (incredibly talented) best friends made me}

{Most of the books were bought for 50 cents at Goodwill}

If I May...

If I may put in a little plug ...announcing "Life is so Delicious" Etsy style!  I've opened up at teensy little Etsy shop, and I'm kind of excited about it.  So, I'd love for you to take a minute, check it out, tell me what you think.

And to celebrate, I'm offering sets of my Personalized Notecards for only $12 (reg $18). (sale ends Friday).  Or, use coupon code DELISH for 15% off anything in my shop! (coupon ends 2/28)

Have a delicious day!

Crazy Hair Day

So last Friday was Crazy Hair Day at school.  Unfortunately, I forgot until we walked onto the school grounds and saw all the green, blue, and red hair all around me.  I dragged the littles back home to grab a brush, some hair elastics and blue hair spray and headed back to call Girlie out of class.  Sometimes you just have to interrupt education for the greater good.  We crazied up her hair and both felt much better about the day.   It actually looked really, really cute.  This picture was taken after a whole day of playing, so it just looks crazy-crazy and not Crazy Hair crazy.  But, it was inspiration for the evening's "Family Crazy Hair Night".

Apparently, Crazy Hair Night meant that you must make the rest of you look crazy also.

More crazies.

We had a pizza party and played Xbox Kinect all night--River Rush and dance battles.  Somehow Sammy beat Daddy and Girlie out-boogied Mommy.  Guess we're just not very good dancers. :)  Even Little Buddy got into it, and it was hilarious to see his little body jumping up and down like Gumby.

You can't tell, but the boys both had faux-hawks that we're sprayed with some ineffective blue hair coloring.

Even the wee one got in on the crazy action.  Her first product. :)

No, I didn't do my hair.  I totally should have, but by the time I'd gotten through all that crazy hair...it was time to make pizza.  And J...well...I guess I could have spray painted his scalp...

Fun, fun, fun crazy night.  Did I mention I'm crazy about these crazy kids?

It's Okay

I love life.  I feel blessed to have wonderful friends and family, and I truly enjoy my day to day.  I'm a happy person, love to laugh, and think quite a few things are really funny.

But not every day.

There are days that are hard, some really hard, and I think that it's important to accept that.  To know that it's okay to not be happy all the time.  Sadness, disappointment, and frustration are part of life too.  I sometimes think that, especially as women, we feel like we're supposed to be happy and perfect all the time.  Like life should be, or appear, full of white picket fences and flower arranging.  Well, it's not.  

I think it's important to know that everyone, whether they admit it or not, has events or periods of life where they want to throw themselves to the floor and yell "Too hard!  Too hard!"  We all have times (hours, days, years) that we just don't know how we're going to do it, and how we could possibly go on.  But we do go on, putting one foot in front of the other, because that's the only choice.  And eventually it passes, things improve, and hopefully we even learn a lesson or two.  Maybe we even look back and laugh.

My muddled point here is that it's okay.  It's okay to have the 'dark chocolate' parts of life, not just the sunshiny vanilla.  We learn to appreciate the highs and lows, to have empathy for others, and to grow--sometimes painfully--into the amazing, capable person we can be (whether we know it or not).

So, give yourself permission to feel whatever you feel.  And know that it's okay.  And then, when you're ready, pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and take life by the horns.  You're awesome and strong, and you can do it.