Before + Progress: The Lake House: Nursery, Part 1

Save the six something hours we spent finishing preparations to The Historic House By The Water and the eighty three emergency phone calls we took about a flood at The Pad By The Sea, we did a little of this over Christmas.



[park + soccer + belly]

I also moved a bunch of furniture and experimented with some ideas for the nursery. This is how it looked when the previous owners lived here.



Those blinds cover up it's best asset, the view from the sitting area.



Yes, I totally plan on relocating them to the donation pile. Probably to be replaced with simple white linen or cotton panels.

In addition to the lake scene in front of the house, the room completely misses out on connecting with the rooftop terrace that's located on the back. Even though it's designed with railings and built to hold the weight of a large deck, it was hardly ever utilized, and there was never a doorway installed to enter from the nursery. I don't plan on changing that right away (lest our future two year old attempt to play Superman), but I will eventually, unless we end up using the space for an addition.



So. That's what we're working with.

Here are some of the pieces I've chosen for the nursery. They are all awesome. Maybe.



Martha Stewart's Whetstone Gray in Satin.



Vintage bedspread from La Biblioteca.



A slipcovered rocker.



A giraffe that's as tall as I am. I have named him Macaroni. From here.



A toasted maple full size Jenny Lind bed similar to this, but from the early 1900s.

I think that's it.

I should talk to you about the closet, but that deserves it's own post.

Bumps In The Road

A few hours ago Andrew I went for a quick run on the beach and he managed to steal a few photos of the baby nestled uncomfortably in the lunacy that used to be my six pack. I've torn two ligments and my belly button has all but disappeared.

In other pregnancy developments, I've eaten my weight in cottage cheese this month. Mostly mixed with unsweetened cinnamon applesauce, but pineapples or oranges do the trick as well. It has to be lowfat Breakstone's for some reason and is usually consumed after I victimize the pickle jar.

Someone please slap me.

By the way, did I mention we made the move?

Despite the pulled muscles and continued morning, scratch that, all hours of the day sickness, I sucked it up long enough to pack a few boxes and watch Andrew nearly murder himself hauling all of the large furniture.

The Lake House is only a few blocks away, which I am extremely grateful for, since it means we've been able to transfer everything slowly.

Other than that there has been a lot of this lately.

Aside from being sick and getting The Historic House By The Water ready for the new tenants, and I had to find a replacement for my long time resident at The Pad By The Sea. Which meant advertising the bejebus out of the place and forwarding it to all of my contacts and stressing out about holding a vacancy and traveling to South Florida for showings. Only to have three full price offers on it in less than fifteen minutes after the first three showings. Who knew?

Though I was relieved, there was still a mountain of paperwork to be filled out, background checks to be run, signatures to be forwarded.

Then there was the leaky air conditioner, the garage roof repair, the busted irrigation pipe, and a couple of late rent checks. Across four properties in three cities. And I'm working from a shotty new internet connection on a mattress on the floor.

It's all a little overwhelming.

But I assure you I'm not complaining. I'm trying to embrace this, each moment, my belly growing all Alien, lapping down pickle juice, planning how to rip apart every inch of the new house and turn it into prettiness. Really, in a lot of ways, I'm having the time of my life. It's just that I'd be lying if I didn't tell you that I'm crying every other day, that I've now developed the scary side effect of blacking out when Aston practices his backstroke, that I curse after I've thrown up on myself. yet. again.

IN PUBLIC.

At the same time, I realize how incredibly fortunate and blessed we are this holiday season, not only to have food, shelter, and each other, but to truly have everything that anyone could possibly wish for. And I take nothing, none of it, for granted.

I guess I'm just trying to find my sea legs.

Fur Coat

Poor thing has no idea she's about to be replaced as the baby of the family.

I expect there will be rioting.

Turns Out You're All Wrong

It's a boy!

Plastic Toys + Other Sins

Look at these.





I like toys like that.

I do not like toys like this.



How do you (politely) let people know that you'd prefer that they not give your kid plastic chemical soaked toys? Or loud toys? Or anything that is designed to cruise faster than a Ferrari?

I'm not the type of person who has trouble being direct, but handing out gift requests is something that I abhor. I find registries and want lists and catalog favorites tacky. (For our wedding we suggested charity donations in lieu of presents.)

I have no idea how to say, "Does this come with a gift receipt?" without feeling like dog doo doo.

Then again, I'd really rather my kid didn't suck on something that smells like a used tire lot.

How do you handle this sort of thing?

Scam

Sorry for the scam emails, everyone. Obviously, we are not stranded in Scotland after being attacked by an armed gunman. DO NOT SEND ANY MONEY. That email is not from me! Please delete it and run a precautionary virus scan on your computer.

If anyone knows how to retrieve the permanently deleted emails (thank you, hacker!) that I just lost I would be incredibly grateful. Please comment here, rather than email me for now.