Guest Room

If you come to visit me, here's a look at your digs. This is my childhood bedroom furniture, which had originally been my mother's.

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You'll have to hang your clothes in the hall closet (don't worry, it's right outside the door), because I've turned this one into a sewing nook:

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Hall Bath

If this house didn't have toile somewhere, it just wouldn't be mine.

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One Month to Kick-Off

Peter's Room

Since I expect Peter to be sharing this room with a sibling of unknown gender in about two years, I went with a neutral barn theme. (The wallpaper is gingham, though it's probably too small to see in the pictures.) Nevertheless, this has turned out quite masculine. Painting the furniture white would probably help, but I can't bring myself to do it. The bed and chair were made by his great-great-great-great grandfather, the tin front to the pie safe was hammered out by his great-grandmother, and the dresser was made by his grandfather.

I wish I could show you the dresser, but next to it hang Peter's real name, and I'm a freak about internet privacy. Above the dresser is a mirror made from an antique horse harness, passed down from his grandmother's barn. Most of our knick-knacks, in fact, come from Mimi's barn. She'll be retiring it when the last of her horses die, and her eagerness to clear things out has timed well with our room decorating!

So even if it's more masculine than planned, the sentiment of this room is high, and I don't think I'll be changing it any time soon:

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Master Room and Bath

The previous owners really liked pumpkin. I guess I really like creme and wheat.

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The Kitchen & "Playroom"

Slowly, we are coming together. I'll post rooms of the house as they are finished.

First up, the kitchen. Man, I love having space. I actually have empty cabinets. Empty. Plus, I put anything that could stab, poison, suffocate, or shatter in the upper cabinets so that I don't have to mess with childproof latches on the bottom. (This wouldn't have been an option in my old digs, when it was challenge enough simply to find a place, any place, for the food processor.)

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As for the playroom, this is the "eat-in" part of the kitchen. Since the dining room is three feet away, and intimate enough for every-meal use, I didn't see the point in setting up a kitchen table. Instead, I got some cheap cabinets to store all his toys and set up a play area. This has kept Peter from hanging on me during meal preparation. And, when I have a crawler under my feet again, it will be handy that I can close off the kitchen doors to prevent escape.

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Overheard

Showing Tom his school artwork on the kitchen wall, I heard Peter say, "And I made a panda bear. Where is it? I don't know where it is."

Perhaps the only thing more significant than the first artwork your child brings home is the first piece that you throw away. But, man, it was over a week ago. I thought I was safe.

She Took the Words Right Out of My Mouth

Below is a comment that I originally found here. This mother's observations explain why there are so few parenting books that I can 100% endorse.

We come to parenthood with individual personalities, with natural tendencies that can both help and harm our children. What one mom needs to hear might be the exact opposite of what another needs to know:

My oldest child was harmed by my application of GKGW materials (I wised up before my second child arrived), yet some of the godliest lay leaders in my church are huge fans of the Ezzo’s.

In trying to come to terms with this contradiction, I’ve come to the conclusion that part of the problem is an implicit assumption about evangelical mothers that underlies most of the Ezzo-type programs. The assumption seems to be that the typical mother is by nature a nurturing, extravert who is so overcome with warm, sentimental feelings for her children that she struggles to provide necessary structure, discipline, and boundaries. The moms in my church who swear by GKGW have personalities that trend in that direction.

I, on the other hand, as a result of both natural temperament and family of origin issues, struggle to nurture. I’m more of an introverted, intuitive, thinking type. I don’t struggle to provide structure and boundaries. For a mother like me, GKGW was a disaster.

Call the Exorcist

We're having a problem with school. Unlike those children who woefully cling to their mothers when dropped off, Peter bursts into tears when I return to pick him up. It certainly doesn't help that this is ten minutes before his nap time. By time we make it home and to his bed, he is usually convulsing and foaming at the mouth.

Ah, the two's. Some people oppose the term "Terrible Twos", saying it promotes tension between mother and child at what can be a wonderful stage. I, for one, think that Terrible Twos is a euphemism compared to what I might call it.

The "Demon-Possessed Twos".
The "Will-My-Child-Grow-Up-to-be-a-Sociopath? Twos".
The "This-is-Why-Women-Get-Tubal Ligation Twos"...

A Return to the Dating World

That's what the church search feels like. I take the same approach, anyway.

I'm not looking for a casual relationship. I want something I can commit to, potentially for life. So I eliminate most prospects on a first date, definitely by the third. Right now I have three possibilities worthy of a second date, but sometimes I worry that I won't find The One-- or that I won't realize it when I already have.

First Day of School

After this post a few months ago, some friends have gotten the idea I'm opposed to preschool. As this post and this post explain, I actually think childcare (particularly after the 18-month mark) is a great way to keep a mother sane. I'm simply opposed to the idea that the sole method of doing this is preschool-- or, to be more specific, the idea that preschool is the only legitimate way to prevent your child from becoming socially or intellectually deprived.

All this to say that I'm thrilled that we can finally afford a little bit of childcare and that our new town offers some time slots more conducive to Peter's nap schedule. How much he learns there is unimportant to me, as I still consider myself his primary teacher, but the time it gives me a few mornings a week is priceless. Here's the happy camper on his first day: