Listen, eventually I'll tell you the rest of the birth story. Maybe. I mean, it's not outside the realm of possibilities. All you really need to know is that she was born, she's fine, I'm fine, we're all fine and dandy.
We spend three months after her birth in our adorable but small one bedroom condo in the oh-so-dreamy historic neighborhood we loved so very much. It was pretty great, honestly. The house was small enough that I could keep it clean pretty easily. The neighborhood was ideal for taking the stroller out for a walk. The bedroom was plenty big enough for her bassinet and a bookshelf full of her stuff. We made it work, and for those three months it worked perfectly.
But we knew it couldn't last. Eventually she would outgrow that bassinet. Someday we would want an actual changing table, rather than just putting the changing pad on the bed as needed. One day we might even want her in a different room so we could...um...play scrabble. So, we bought a house.
Hah. Hah, hah, hah. Oh that makes it sound so much easier than it really was. Picture me sitting at the computer laying out a new publication for my office, with a two-month old trying to nurse in my lap and the telephone to my ear as I talk to the lending agent on one line and my realtor on the other. This is not an exaggeration. I started working from home, handled all the financial mumbo-jumbo, did all the legal paperwork and closed on a house with an infant alternately crying at me, pooping on me, and sucking me dry. I am woman, hear me roar.
And now we live in the woods. The house is much newer, much bigger than our little rental, and it has an actual backyard (and front yard, for that matter). We even have a garage. The first big project we tackled once we got ourselves moved in was the nursery.
You know all those campaigns to get girls more excited about science careers? You know, the ones that insist there aren't enough girls interested in STEM, and that we need to tackle that problem early on in a girl's life? Well, consider this our contribution to the cause. I present to you, a very nerdy nursery for a very girly nerd:
The mobile spells out her name in periodic elements. Ten points if you know where Adamantium comes from without googling it.
The solar system mural is made of fabric, which I ironed to the wall using double-sided Pellon. It's to scale, including the sun, but I went back and doubled the size of the planets inside the asteroid belt because they seemed too dinky otherwise. And yes, Pluto is there. You just can't see him because in a compromise with my husband (who agrees with NDT on the "not a planet" thing) I hid it behind the door.
We spend three months after her birth in our adorable but small one bedroom condo in the oh-so-dreamy historic neighborhood we loved so very much. It was pretty great, honestly. The house was small enough that I could keep it clean pretty easily. The neighborhood was ideal for taking the stroller out for a walk. The bedroom was plenty big enough for her bassinet and a bookshelf full of her stuff. We made it work, and for those three months it worked perfectly.
 |
| You can see her little bassinet in the lower right corner here. At night we put it next to my side of the bed. |
Hah. Hah, hah, hah. Oh that makes it sound so much easier than it really was. Picture me sitting at the computer laying out a new publication for my office, with a two-month old trying to nurse in my lap and the telephone to my ear as I talk to the lending agent on one line and my realtor on the other. This is not an exaggeration. I started working from home, handled all the financial mumbo-jumbo, did all the legal paperwork and closed on a house with an infant alternately crying at me, pooping on me, and sucking me dry. I am woman, hear me roar.
And now we live in the woods. The house is much newer, much bigger than our little rental, and it has an actual backyard (and front yard, for that matter). We even have a garage. The first big project we tackled once we got ourselves moved in was the nursery.
You know all those campaigns to get girls more excited about science careers? You know, the ones that insist there aren't enough girls interested in STEM, and that we need to tackle that problem early on in a girl's life? Well, consider this our contribution to the cause. I present to you, a very nerdy nursery for a very girly nerd:
The mobile spells out her name in periodic elements. Ten points if you know where Adamantium comes from without googling it.
The solar system mural is made of fabric, which I ironed to the wall using double-sided Pellon. It's to scale, including the sun, but I went back and doubled the size of the planets inside the asteroid belt because they seemed too dinky otherwise. And yes, Pluto is there. You just can't see him because in a compromise with my husband (who agrees with NDT on the "not a planet" thing) I hid it behind the door.
The curtain is made of fabric I designed myself and had printed at Spoonflower.com. Picking out the equations to include was the fun part. Painstakingly getting them right, character by character in Illustrator was the hard part. But I'm pretty pleased with the result.
Would you like to know where I got everything? A detailed list of stores where you can get that lamp, the dresser and nightstand, that adorable crib? Okay.
Ikea.
The rug and little laundry basket are from Homegoods, but everything else is of quality some-assembly-requried Swedish design. Tack, Ikea!
So far, the little bug loves it. The letters on the mobile have glitter in them, and the contrast between the black letters and bright colors is fascinating to her. When we first hung it up, she stared at it for like fifteen minutes straight, waving her little hands at it and smiling. It was pretty great. The mural is an even bigger hit, though. She loves to be held up close to it while we recite the names of each of the planets in turn. We've worked it into our nightly pre-bedtime routine with her, and it's safe to say that's her favorite part of the whole routine now.
I
adore this space. The walls are pained a nice neutral grey (it's
actually called "quietude") and the trim is all "polar bear" white. That
calming pallet with the little pops of bright colors and plenty of baby
pink makes the whole place so peaceful and whimsical. I could hang out
in there all day. Instead I should probably get cracking on the master suite, so I can enjoy spending time in my own room as much as my daughter's.
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