I Had No Idea

My daughter turned one three days ago.

I had no idea how much poop a tiny baby can make.

I had no idea I would one day not give a damn about having a clean house because someone wanted a snuggle.

I had no idea I could survive on such little sleep.

I had no idea how much baby-proofing is required.

I had no idea how much joy could be felt watching someone learn to do something new.

I had no idea skin could be so soft and smooth.

I had no idea eyes could be so clear and so blue.

I had no idea I could love my husband this much, but a good father is incredibly attractive.

I had no idea baby shoes were so expensive.

I had no idea how much I would come to love breastfeeding.

I had no idea how much rapid-fire kicks from little legs can hurt.

I had no idea it was possible to love this fiercely. This intensely. To know that I would do anything to protect her from harm. To be perfectly content holding her while she naps. To have the most fun ever making animal sounds and having pretend tea parties.

I had no idea life would become infinitely better the day she showed up. And that it would become infinitely better every single day moving forward.

To my monkey: thank you, and I love you.

The Month We Showered Elsewhere

I could never be a full-time DIY blogger because I have put off writing a post about our bathroom reno progress for awhile. And also because my husband has done 99.9% of the work. Someone's gotta watch the kiddo.

We decided to start with our shower first. We only have one shower in the house, so we figured it would be best to handle that start-to-finish to minimize the time we have to shower at relatives' houses.

So here we go. The photo on the left is what we started with. Hideous, yes? On a Friday evening after work about a month ago, T took the crowbar to the tile.

In just an hour, he'd made great progress on two of the walls. The crowbar was taking too long, so he started hacking at things with an axe... things moved a little faster from there!

Less than 48 hours after starting demo, our buddy Jim (who is a master plumber) was over to move some pipes around and get the new fixtures setup.

The following weekend, most of the Wonderboard went up and the seams were mudded. This process spanned two weekends because we didn't buy enough on Home Depot trip #8, so we had to make trip #9 before finishing.

T painted Redguard on the walls this past weekend, and I haven't been in to snap a pic yet. It's horrible looking though, and smells so. bad. Just so bad.

When T was in the demo phase, which was very loud, I made sure to take E out for the day. Once he moved on to Wonderboarding though, we hung out at home mostly. This is how she spent the vast majority of that time - standing at the baby gate, trying to catch a glimpse of what Dada was doing.

A finally, I'll close with this -

This is what was under one end of the towel bar after T knocked it off the wall. Seriously? I think there are at least eight nails poking out of that. Previous owners: construction mavens? Methinks not.

Young is the New Old

At some point Sunday, while perusing Facebook, I came upon the very sad news that a girl I went to college with has colon cancer. She is 29 and married with a son. 

Yesterday, while checking media coverage, I read a local story about a mother and daughter who were killed when they were hit by a car as they walked near their house. Although their names hadn’t been released, I had a weird feeling that I should keep checking for updates until I found out who these women were. The daughter turned out to be a girl I went to high school with. She was 29.

Obviously these are two different situations, and I’m not trying to compare them at all. I have every hope that the girl I went to college with will fight and beat colon cancer. But, these issues feel like those that should be affecting a different age group. 

The truth is though, they’re probably not. At 29, I can’t deny the fact that I’m getting closer to middle age. I know anyone in their 40s would roll their eyes at me for saying that, but it’s true. I can tell when I look at my skin and see the beginnings of smile lines. Or when I realize that I have a mortgage and a child and a husband and a house in my name. Or when I think about the fact that my mother has been gone for going on four years. At some point, people my age – myself included – became adults and I didn’t even realize it was happening.

I’m not sure how I feel about this. I really believe that my life gets better every single day. I’m incredibly blessed. But when will my life peak? At what point will I reach “the happiest I’ve ever been,” after which, things head downhill? I’m not trying to be morbid or depressing, but it’s been in the back of my mind for awhile. Recent events have just brought the thought to the forefront. I’ve heard my grandma say recently that it doesn’t pay to get old. I don’t think she believes that all of the time, but I know she believes it some of the time.

I guess the point here is that some things are just out of our control. Sometimes you’re dealt a really crappy set of cards. Do you live you’re entire life waiting to see if that happens? Not if you want to enjoy it. Throwing all caution to the wind isn’t smart either, but finding the right balance is important. Tomorrow’s never guaranteed. And that’s cliché but so true. I need to do a better job of remembering and believing that so I can stay present in the moment because so many moments are fantastic right now.

Musings of a Monday Morning Mind

My brain goes crazy most Monday mornings. I don’t have attention deficit disorder, but right now it feels like it. 

Even though I’m approaching 30, I still get excited about making a Christmas list. The contents of the list are definitely that of an approaching 30 year-old person. So far: books, a curling iron, and the Olay Regenerist Luminous skin care line. Yes, the one you can buy at Walgreen’s. I’m a simple girl.

Being almost 30 and a mother has made me much more frugal. I read this and couldn’t believe someone has this kind of disposable income. Maybe this is a famous person’s second house, but seriously? When I need time away, I get to go sit in my car. Because now that my daughter is super mobile, the bathroom isn’t safe anymore.

Having just talked about frugality, now I’ll say that I really want to go clothes shopping. Like, major closet overhaul kind of shopping. My body has changed since I had a baby, and so has the amount of time I can spend thinking up outfits. I’m considering limiting my work wardrobe to a few specific colors. My weekend wardrobe has been set in stone for awhile now. It’s nothing fancy in the least, but it makes getting dressed so much easier when I know what to reach for: skinny jeans, a white V-neck T-shirt, Toms or Chucks, and maybe a cardigan sweater if it’s cold. I think streamlining is the way to go. And to do that, I must spend money on more things. #catch22

One of my very best friends might be moving away. I’ve resolved not to beg her to stay because I want to help her reason through this decision as best I can, and I keep telling myself that it would be cool to visit her in a new city. But whatever, I still want her to stay.

The bath remodel is underway! I should write a detailed post about that, but considering my friend who might be moving away is the only person who reads this and I just updated her on the project this morning, I think it can wait. Needless to say, my husband is a demo and remodel beast, and we’re very lucky that one of our dearest friends is a master plumber :)

My daughter has not slept in her crib in two nights. Apparently, we’re a co-sleeping family. And that’s all I’ll say about that (she said as she sipped her enormous cup of coffee).

A million other thoughts: I really want to sit on the couch and read a magazine. I also want to clean my house. And decorate my house. And look for a new house. And make this house super homey. And sleep through the night. And go on vacation. And pay off my debt. And read read read anything and everything I can find. And work out. And be a boss at work. And help my dad at his new house. And spend hours upon hours playing with my daughter. And go on more dates with my husband. And write more for this blog. Ok, not a million. More like 15 things. I could keep going but I’ve run out of time.

The end.

Tiny Project

The last few weeks, I haven't been feeling very "nesty." I've been feeling very "workallthetimey" and "onlywanttospendsparetimeplayingwithmydaughtery." However, I do love fall and wanted to bring a little of the season inside so I decorated the top of our piano.

Sidebar: How does Halloween decorating fit in with fall decorating? It feels early to have Halloween stuff out, but I'm all "there's no way I have time to put up fall stuff, add Halloween stuff in October, and remove it again in November." 

Anyway, after I decorated, I had this.

Nothing fancy, and probably not to many people's taste, which is fine. Regardless, I love the sparkly BOO but this felt unbalanced with nothing in that color on the right side.

Enter, Radiant Orchid.

I get a little obsessed when Pantone releases their color of year, and I bought a test pot of Radiant Orchid a few months ago with no clue what I'd do with it. So, I painted a piece of scrap wood and two paint stirrers.

Then, I decided I would put ghosts on top of the sticks. I pieced together one ghost.

This is a pair of my daughter's socks that she's outgrown, covered with white tulle. I found some old letter stickers and ripped up a few of them to make the face. Boom.

It's really kind of obnoxious looking though. And also, I didn't want to use up all of E's socks. We might have another kid someday and he or she will have feet.

And after that, I went out for hibachi with T's family. Because they had birthdays. And we were hungry. And I had no clue what I was going to do with my other painted sticks.

After dinner we stopped at Meijer, and I found my solution.

These cute, sparkly little spiders were $3. I glued them and the lone ghost to the sticks, stuck them in the mason jar, and called it a night.

I'm really happy with the final look now! Not perfect, definitely not fancy, but the colors feel more balanced and I smile when I walk past.

Lean In, Burn Out, Lean Back, Whatever

While on maternity leave, I read Lean In by Sheryl Sandberg. It gave me quite a bit to think about, although reading it while postpartum hormones were raging through my body wasn’t the best idea.

Since then, there’s been plenty of related coverage about how to lean in but still stay a little bit leaned out but not too far out and so on. I have no clue what the prescribed balance would be. I did like this story from Fast Company though. 

The #3 suggestion about practicing self-compassion struck a chord with me. This is something I’ve struggled with for as long as I can remember. I’ve always been hyper-critical of myself. The first instance of this (that I can recall, though my mom told me it was always an issue) was in 3rd grade. If I got anything less than a 100% on an assignment, I’d write a note to myself at the top of the page that said, “you’re stupid” or something to that effect. It got to a point that my teacher called my parents. Even after they talked to me and reassured me that I was not stupid, I continued doing it. There was nothing anyone could do to convince me that it was ok to be imperfect.

These feelings have crept in and out of my life. Becoming a parent was by far the biggest test against my self-compassion that I’ve ever faced. When I missed a question on an assignment, I could blame myself – I should’ve studied more, should’ve paid closer attention in class, should’ve double-checked a calculation. With a baby though… there was nothing I could’ve done to fully prepare myself. Believe me, I tried. I read books, blogs, forums, and more. I talked to friends with children and pestered them with questions, and called the pediatrician with all the other questions that popped into my mind. But it didn’t matter. I couldn’t be a 100% perfect parent because there’s no real definition of a perfect parent. And for awhile it made me crazy.

I wanted so desperately to be the perfect mother, and every time I “failed” I would beat myself up about it. But it just contributed to the cycle. Every time I beat myself up, I was wasting precious time and energy that could’ve been spent loving on my daughter. With less time and energy, I wasn’t being the type of mother I truly wanted to be, and then I’d beat myself up even more.

Finally, with the help of a supportive husband, friends who are always there to listen, and – full disclosure – a prescription for an anti-anxiety drug, I’m closer than I was before. My daughter doesn’t care if the house is immaculate. In my mind, it needed to be pristine, but in reality, all she wants is space to move around, a few toys, and a momma who will hold her and love on her. She doesn’t give a damn if her toys are artfully arranged on a shelf. She doesn’t know if her food is homemade vs. from a jar or if I lost all the baby weight. Having some compassion toward myself allowed me to let go of things that aren’t truly important and become more present in the beautiful life I have.

Be Still My Heart

A few weeks ago, TJ and I watched Hot Rod. The movie is ridiculous and kind of dumb and one of our favorites. I can’t get enough of Jorma Taccone dancing to Two of Hearts.

Moody Monday - 1st Floor Bath

Mood board novice here. I have LITERALLY (imagine Chris Traeger saying this) no experience putting something like this together. I typically fly by the seat of my pants for projects around the house, but this one is different.

This project requires planning, demolition, skill and a crapton of money.

We’re planning a complete renovation of our hideous first floor bathroom in the next few weeks. This is the only full bath in the house, meaning we’ll be showerless for awhile. In order to (I hope!) minimize the amount of time we spend showering at various relatives’ houses, we actually sat down and planned this one out.

I’m a simple girl. That’s why there are a mere five things on my mood board. We have the big stuff planned though. In the shower, we’ll go with traditional white subway tile. Although we’re on the fence when it comes to grout color, I’m leaning toward something in the grey or brown family. We aren’t doing any accent tile, so I think colored grout will really pop.

We’ll replace the crazy colored tile floor with ceramic tiles that resemble wood planks. The rest of our first floor is hardwood and this should tie in nicely. A soft, muted green should look nice with this and white trim.

Although the vanity in the bathroom now is only a few years old, it’s not really our preferred style. This white vanity from Ikea is closer to our style, and we’ll top it with an interesting mirror. This one is from Target and if the measurements are right (gotta check that!) I think we’ll go with it.

I have ideas for a few of the other details – a white waffle-weave shower curtain, wood plank shelves over the toilet, and maybe even removing the linen closet door to open up the space more.

We took a tiling workshop at Home Depot last weekend. I’m still stymied by the notion of a wet saw (the blade is in water? does that mean that the tile gets wet when you cut it? does that impact how the thinset works? did I use the term thinset correctly?) but the workshop was moderately helpful. I think we'll keep the name and number of a handyman close by though once we start the project... just in case!

Salmon & Sea Foam

Our first floor bath is U-G-L-Y. No alibi.

Behold, the bathroom. This is the view from the door, which you can see on the left side of the photo. The door is open as far as it will go. There’s an enormous towel rack on the back and it hits the door of the linen closet. Looks like we need toilet paper.

It’s the tile’s fault. Our tile is bad. All five colors of it are bad. Yes, five. There’s mauve, salmon, sea foam, a lighter shade of sea foam and blue. When we moved in, we knew about four of these colors. That blue caught us off guard, as it’s only used on the back wall of the shower.

Obviously, I didn’t style these photos. With a bathroom this ugly, there’s no point. If I’d bothered to hide the shampoo, shower gel and baby bath wash, do you know what you’d see? An ugly bathroom. Buh-bam.

I’ve made attempts to tone down the vibrant tile. I bought a nice shower curtain. It didn’t make a difference.

I bought soap in a nice bottle. Still not good. (Sure signs of a baby in the photo too: Diaper Genie and childproof vanity.)

Whatever. Ugly is ugly. I gave up. Blue towels, tan towels, that sea foam tile is all you can see anyway.

Thankfully, this is the next project on our list. We’ve never tackled anything of this magnitude, so I’m already a little nervous. Lots of planning going into this one!

A Fresh Start

This is not my first attempt at blogging.

I tried my hand at this a few years ago with a blog I called Blue Love Notebook. I created it after my mother passed away. I was very close with her, and although she’d been sick for awhile, nothing could have prepared me for the emptiness I felt without her. Talking about her was painful but writing about her was cathartic, and so the blog was helpful.

For awhile.

Although I never expected it to happen, my life eventually stopped centering around the loss of my mom. As I came to terms with the new normal of my life, I felt less and less compelled to work through my feelings in print. However, I really felt like I’d created BLN to write about her… it felt strange to try and write about anything else there.

Hence – this blog. After losing my mom, I believed that I’d already lived out my happiest day – that no future day could ever make me the happiest because she wouldn’t be there. And even though I feel a little twinge of guilt as I type this, I have to admit I was wrong. When I see my husband and daughter playing together in the house we’ve made a home, I know it. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. I’m so lucky, and now it’s time to focus on that. There will still be sad posts here from time to time because that’s life. But with so many rich blessings, I’d be a fool not to capture this time however I can.

I’ve taken thousands of photos in the last year.

Time for thousands of words.