Industrial Chic

So.

We celebrated our little girl on Saturday.

In the only suitable fashion that a now three year old sassy pants princess would allow.

{not going to lie, Nev could have had ANY kind of party, and she wouldn't have cared... I on the other hand, couldn't help going all girly. It just reminds me of her.}

I am calling it Industrial Chic.

A tea party style brigade on the unfinished side of our basement.

Complete with a tea party dessert table with mini pumpkin pies, fruit skewers, apple bites with a peanut butter topping, and of course birthday cupcakes.

Tea. Lemonade. And real china plates.

Tea lights in glass jars. Thrifted fake flowers for bottles as the tablescape.

Magical setting. As much as it could be.

With lots of cousins 13 years and younger, I thought it would be easiest to assemble something close to the play area on the finished side of the basement. And it worked perfectly.

Everyone enjoyed themselves, and I only broke two tea cups.

I think her smile says it all.

This girl.

Just reeks of sweet.

Can't you just smell her through your screen?

I can still remember where I was when we first found out we were expecting her. 

We were living at our old house. 

I had thought I was "late".  {although, I hadn't really been keeping track of my cycle at the time, I knew I should be starting or should have already started possibly} So we bought a digital test when we were at the grocery store that evening, and I peed on the stick when we got home.

We were getting Nolan ready for bed, and went back to check on the stick in our bathroom after getting him in his pajamas. A total of maybe two minutes.

It read, "PREGNANT"... immediately.

I didn't like that test. I was used to the line tests I had used so many times before when we were trying to get pregnant. And then when we actually did get pregnant with Nolan, where I took a total of five different tests just to be sure.

There was just something about seeing the word that took the surprise and excitement out of deciding if the second line was there or not.

Or maybe it was the fact that we had an eight month old... and were going to be having another baby.

Already.

There.

I said it. Out loud.

Were we ready?

What were other people going to say?

Would Nolan feel cheated?

Can I even take care of two babies under two?

Well, clearly, that anxiety subsided. 

We let everyone know. And didn't care about reactions.

It was our life.

And God had a plan.

Fast forward to the big ultrasound.

We just couldn't wait to find out if we were going to be the proud parents of a boy or girl.

I remember sitting in the waiting room afterwards and calling my mom to prepare for PINK.

Pure elation. We were going to be having a girl!!

Crap!

A girl.

I have to buy clothes! And shoes. And new blankets. And hair bows. And dolls. Barbies. You know all the things girls like and need.

And then, very quickly the time elapsed, and I found myself in the hospital for a scheduled induction.

They broke my water at noon. I had her by 5:00pm on the nose.

She was beautiful. The most beautiful girl I had ever laid eyes on. With jet black hair and a button nose.

She was perfect. And more than I ever could have asked for.

She was our little glo worm. Had to be brought a home bili light because she had jaundice so bad. We took her for blood draws for nearly a week after she was born. My mom drove us up to the hospital everyday.

Fast forward three years, and I will tell you how much light she brings to our little family. 

Her giggle. 

Her sparkly big brown eyes.

 Her requests for food constantly. Like string cheese. Or yogurt. Or an orange.

How she puts the shoes on the wrong foot. Every. Time.

How she is afraid of the dark. And will thump down the stairs in the middle of the night to snuggle deep in our bed.

Tutus. Hair bows.

She loves to color. And doodle little smiley faces now on paper.

She has a huge addiction to stickers.

Loves clementines.

And to ride in Nolan's stachio.

Will laugh if you tickle her. And cry if you walk out of the room at bedtime before giving her a "pillow hug".

She would take a bath for hours if you let her.

And hates getting her hair brushed.

Unless you promise to give her a treat for combing it, to which she will let you, but will whine all the way through it.

She is amazing. And funny. And likes to tease her brother.

Loves her daddy to the moon... and back.

And will sit on you instead of beside you if you are watching a movie, because she has to be that close.

She must have a companion when going to the bathroom, unless she has to poop. Then, you must wait outside until she is done. 

She has stinky, sweaty piggies.
Likes to do things "by herself".

And eats spicy chicken wings and steak if given the opportunity.

Otherwise, she would dine on candy. And only candy if allowed. 

And loves to do the "Movie Theater" as the attendee, not the attendant.

Just ask her brother.

She loves to swim. And take a ride on her boat in the summer.

Can count to eight. Knows all her colors, shapes.

Sings the ABC's to the tune of E.I.E.I.O.

And loves "girl songs" in the car.

She has evolved into such a little lady. And I can't wait to see what the next year has in store for her.

Happy Birthday!

I love you, my darling.

XO

Momma

Unfinished business.

Where have I been?

What have I been up to?

Everything. Seriously. Everything.

From renovating the front den and redoing the front entry with new tile to getting a new roof and carpet in the entire house to spontaneously deciding to move eight (figure of speech, as I didn't really count) states away only to decide that maybe our hasty decision should be put on hold.

I know that was a run on sentence, but it didn't feel right to cut it off since that is exactly how things seem at the moment. A run on. A blur.

I create my own messes, and I am the first to admit that.

Stupidly creating projects, just to have a project sometimes. Always.

Such as, the fact that I have a ton of frames I have been thrifting from auctions and the Goodwill that I need to prime, paint and then print photos for and then hang up in the house (especially since I know we are staying).

And then I salvaged this HUGE frame that didn't have glass or backing that instantly clicked as a hairbow frame for the girls room, that I need to also prime, paint and staple ribbon to in order to finally have a usable holder for all the girls fancy hair clips, bows and bands.

 Or the single coat of paint on the board and batton in the den that is requiring a second, and the built ins that still need crown moulding and two coats of paint.

Or the nearly completed girls room that is a shade of pink/coral on the bottom 3/4 of the wall with some aqua and white stripes on the top 1/4 of the wall, all the way around. It just needs touch up paint around the bottom. 

Or the vintage Halloween birthday party I am planning for Nev. That needs decorations made and hung still. Costumes sewn. Favors assembled. Games created.

Or the loft that looks like a bomb of clothes went off (which only happened because of the new carpet and having to move stuff around to get the new carpet installed). 

Everyone that knows me. And I mean, really knows me... will know how much I hate laundry. Whether it's mine, or not. Clean or dirty. Seasonal. Outgrown.

I hate it.

I can wash it. Fine. But don't you dare give me hell about folding it. And putting it away? That is almost as funny as saying "ironing" in our house. It just doesn't happen.If it's wrinkly, throw it in the dryer.

I had gotten caught up on the laundry about a week ago. But then it just started piling up again. And I revert back to my old ways when it comes to the damned laundry. Picking through a pile on the floor will be in my obituary. It is just me. I can't fold and put away the stuff. And, I don't know why. I just can't.

All I can say is that I hate laundry. Loathe it.

But I love clean clothes. And sheets. And towels.

Is there a disorder out there for this? If so, sign me up. Because I have it. Laundritis.

Anyhow, I have a bunch of stuff I still need to do up there. The girls room is nekked. No bed. No dressers. Just outgrown clothes in piles (there's that word again), ready to be stowed away in totes that I still haven't bought.

Do you see the pattern yet?

Lots of unfinished projects. Everywhere.

I go to bed way too late. Get up twice in the night with littlest N. And then I get up way to early to function, or be motivated to do anything except that which is required. Like make dinner. Change a diaper (or five). Give baths. Give love. Make a movie theater. Wrestle. Load the dishwasher. Or a load of laundry.

Nolan started school the end of August. Which officially puts us in the school ages. He goes three days a week for two and a half hours a day. It is a nice little break for me to just get in some girl time with just Nev and Nadie. We often get a donut at Dunkin together, or wander Kohls in search of nothing we need, or when the Hub takes Nolan in the morning on his way into work... we sleep in for an extra half hour (if Nadie lets me) and then talk over cartoons on the couch. It's nice.

We are liking it, just as much as he likes going off to school. His daddy especially likes picking him from school some days so he can take him to a "boys only" lunch. When I do pick him up he tells me about his day, then he tells me he has new friends (same names as the day before) and then just to make sure I'm listening, he will ask me who they are again. Thank goodness for little boys with big minds and even bigger hearts. He just melts mine.

So I have unfinished business yes. I think everyone does. 

I just read this quote. Not sure of the author.

Stating that you have a set number of  minutes given to you each day. And each day they reset. The old ones, used or unused, are deleted. Erased. And that when the new day starts you are replenished with a full set of minutes. How you use those minutes, is up to you.

Profound.

I needed to see that.

 

I want to spend my time more wisely.

Be more organized.

Have a better agenda for my day than just "by the seat of my pants".

 

First on the list, is to make dinner for the kids. Since they have been asking me for the last thirty minutes if they can eat now, please.