Halloween Extravaganza

Halloween Extravaganza 2013

Jeff has always loved Halloween. All the way back in October 2006, when Jeff lived in Manhattan and I lived in Hoboken, we worked through our very first Halloween compromise. Trying to impress Jeff with my school-night flexibility, I had promised to go to a party in Brooklyn with him; however, as the hour approached for us to leave from Hoboken, I became more and more anxious until I finally found myself sobbing through the bathroom door, "I just don't like Halloween--and I don't want to go!" To Jeff's credit, he handled his hysterical girlfriend quite calmly, and it only took a few minutes to realize that I was perfectly happy to stay curled up on the sofa without him and he was perfectly happy to go to the party alone. 

Ever since then, Halloween has been about the same--Jeff gets excited to dress up and find an event to attend, and I plan a quiet night at home. That is, until we moved into our current neighborhood on October 28, 2011. Three nights later, we were immersed in our first Halloween, complete with loads of trick or treaters (we embarrassingly ran out of candy that year--never again!), welcoming parents, and a plethora of decorations. Last year, we were prepared with the candy but not the decorations, which meant that Jeff and our neighbors started working three weeks ago on the Halloween Extravaganza that became our front yards for the better part of October this year.

The "Happy Acres" cemetery

The front yards

Jeff's hand-built coffin and the skeleton stocks

Jeff's fabulously carved pumpkin (lit from below and perched in the crook of the tree)

Needless to say, once they turned on the strobe lights, fog machine, Halloween sound effects, and black light, we were inundated with little ghouls and goblins! And, as much as I don't like Halloween still, I had to admit that this spectacle was pretty darn amazing. So amazing, in fact, that I even donned a bit of a costume myself!

The farmer, his pumpkin-carrier, and the little 25-week pumpkin who's on board

Now I can't wait to see what they create for the Winter Wonderland we'll be featuring throughout December!

Operation Nursery: Wavy Walls

Warning: this is going to be a picture-heavy, text-light post--

because this is all about colors and design!

So, when last we left the nursery, it looked something like this:

Awesome floor but somewhat awful mint-green walls--that were there before we arrived but that we never bothered to paint. However, the little Button on the way is just the right impetus for color selection to begin, so we headed back to Home Depot and Ace Hardware to pick up some samples.

We knew we were going to need two colors, one for our "sky" and one for our "ocean," so we got a couple pairings we liked. (Really cool trick we learned from the designers at FLOR: rather than painting your wall itself, paint pieces of poster board. Not only do you not have to paint over your wall later, but you can also cut off little pieces of the color you like best and bring it around for you as you continue designing. It worked incredibly well for us!) Finally, after staring at the wall for a couple of days, we decided on the blue in the upper right corner as the base for the "sky" and began painting.

Or, I should say, that amazing man I'm married to began painting as I sat downstairs with chocolate and a marathon of Royal Pains. He's incredible, isn't he?

It's hard to see the color in the photos above because it's such a subtle blue that shows up better in natural light, but we love it! For the next week, we enjoyed wandering by the room and peeking in, soaking up the huge difference the change had already made. Of course, since Thursday marked 24 weeks (a huge milestone, as it means that now, even if Button were born super-preemie, hospitals would be equipped to handle her!), we did our photo in the nursery.

(Please note the extremely angry little girl in the lower left corner. She's not having anything to do with her mother focusing on any little girls but her.)

Now it was time for the next paint color: our ocean. Initially, as you can see in the photos above, we'd been leaning towards blues. However, once we spent our Thursday night at Home Depot, we started to realize that turquoises and teals might be a bit more girly and would lighten up the room more. So, out came the poster board again...

See how our blue walls almost look white with an overhead light on?!

Initially, we were really drawn to the subtle color on the left, but, by the time Sunday rolled around and we needed to make a final decision, we were sold on the brighter color on the right. Once we had the paint in hand, we first drew chalk outlines of our waves on the walls, and then Jeff outlined the lines we'd made.

After a quick approval, I was sent back downstairs to finish up the casserole I was making for the week's lunches while Jeff got busy making some waves.

By the time two hours had gone by, he was having just as much fun as we expect Button will playing in her oceanic nursery!

And so we arrive at the current state of the nursery, with oceanic floor and wavy walls complete!

Now, the rocker is going to magically transform into a cream-colored glider sometime in December and some shelves should appear by the end of November, but you're starting to get the idea, right?

Next up: Sailboats and Sea Creatures and Fish--Oh My! Remember J, our former student who made us the amazing table I wrote about in this post? Because she's just awesomely cool, she's coming to stay with us next weekend to get going on some original murals for our walls, and we can't wait!

A Whale's Tale, in three vignettes

This is the story of the little whale who is our nursery inspiration.

Blueberry's Whale, December 2011

We'd been ducking into stores in the tiny island town all day, giggling delightedly over adorable stuffed animals, gently rubbing soft receiving blankets between our fingers, debating the merits of a "themed" nursery. However, we'd held off from making any purchases--until we stepped into our final stop of the day, a little deli where we were picking up supplies for dinner that night. As I checked the case for the salads my mum had requested, Jeff found his way to the back of the tiny shop. By the time I found him, he was standing quietly, holding a little painted square in his hands. The sweet little whale on the front seemed to be grinning at us, his spout exuberantly overflowing against the bright blue background. Jeff didn't even have to ask--the agreement was immediate. This would be Blueberry's whale, the first item we'd purchase for the tiny 8-week baby growing inside me. With smiles on our faces and hands clasped, we exited the store, excitedly talking about an underwater themed nursery where the tiny whale would take center stage. We never could have imagined that, in three short weeks, we'd be packing up the painting that now only brought us heartache, knowing Blueberry's nursery would never be.

Beanster's Whale, November 2012

Jeff sat on the top step of the stairs to our upper level. I'm not certain why he was there--perhaps he was engaging Ozzy in a quick wrestling match, or maybe he had just decided to pause during a busy day. When I came out of the third bedroom, a small canvas square in my hand, he didn't really notice--until I wiggled my way onto his lap. Pulling out the tiny whale, I placed it in his hands. "Look, honey," I said, "Blueberry is going to watch over Beanster." Tears threatened to overflow my eyes as my voice cracked. "This one is going to stick, and he's going to know all about his big sibling, watching over him from heaven." Jeff nodded mutely, then wrapped his arms tightly around me. We just knew this time was it, because it had to be. Because our hearts couldn't handle more heartache. Because it was unfathomable to think that, once again, in just a few short days, we'd be stowing our little whale in the back of the closet, all hope ripped away.

Button's Whale, October 2013

Jeff had asked me to approve of the design he'd sketched out on the wall for a shelf in Button's room, one he'd designed out of wood of various lengths and thicknesses. It will eventually hold some of her toys, perhaps a small book or two, even a stuffed animal perched at the top. When I opened the door to the nursery, though, the first thing I noticed wasn't the pencil marks on the wall--it was the sketch right at eye level. In the midst of the shelf, taking center stage, Jeff had drawn a rendition of our tiny whale. It's the first thing you'll see upon walking into Button's nursery, and it will let us tell her the story of her whole family, not just the ones who we cradle on this earth, but also the ones who we only hold in our hearts. 

"Yes," I told Jeff with confidence. "Yes, it's the perfect place for B's whale."

From strength to joy

The pictures above were taken almost exactly a year apart, at the exact same corn maze and pumpkin patch in Leesburg, Virginia, but that's where the similarities end. 

A year ago, I was writing this post. Just a week after we'd learned our first IUI cycle had failed, I was raw and hurting, drowning in a swamp of pain and hopelessness. That weekend, Jeff took me to the pumpkin patch, simply to put a bright spot in a cloudy week, simply to make me smile, simply to reassure me that life would go on and we would find joy again. When he showed me the picture he'd taken of me standing on the hay bale, I was entranced by the apparent determination in my pose, by the beautiful clouds swooping behind me, by the confidence projected in my profile. My husband had captured the strength I didn't feel and--through a simple photograph--had showed me that I had the temerity I'd need to press forward.

Today, we returned to that patch with the little pumpkin happily tap dancing in my belly. As we sat at a picnic table, snacking on corn dogs and chicken nuggets before entering the maze, my eyes welled up with tears. I couldn't make the words express the emotion overwhelming my heart, but Jeff understood all the same. Our little miracle constantly reminds us of the road we've walked to get here, and not a day goes by that we don't remember what life was like a year or two ago. And so, as I sat in the midst of the pumpkin patch, with a little pumpkin the size of her nestled in my lap, with a cloudless sky over my head, Jeff yet again managed to capture in a photographic instant exactly what I needed to see. There is no fear on my face, no worry about this Thursday's ultrasound, no anxiety about whether I'll be a good enough mom. All that I can see is joy in its purest form.

All that I can see is how far a year has brought us.

(Jeff insisted on giving me a preview of my future appearance at the patch today.

As I listen to him paint the nursery above me this evening, one thing is clear:

his joy, too, is infectious!)

Story Time: Take 2 (or Take 22)

On Friday afternoon, a surprise (anonymous!) care package arrived in our mailbox. It contained two board books for Button: Good Night, Gorilla and Guess How Much I Love You. (If someone reading wants to 'fess up to being Button's secret admirer, we'd love to thank you!) Jeff was immediately inspired to indulge in a story time that night, in part thanks to the fact that we'd read that, at 22 weeks, Button is starting to be able to hear sounds outside the womb. If she's going to be an avid reader like her mama, we've got to start her young, right?

However, what was surprising was Rosie's sudden interest in the Button bump; up until now, she's been pretty stand-offish about it, apparently believing that this new addition is seriously jeopardizing her preferred seat on the pre-heated furniture that is my lap. But, tonight, she listened attentively to the story of Big Nutbrown Hare and his son, and Jeff was so soothing that it wasn't long before she'd found a new purpose for the bump.

The more she purred, the more little Button happily kicked away--perhaps a truce will be reached before the next four months are out!

Operation Nursery: An Oceanic FLOR

The moment the ultrasound tech told us Button is a girl, Jeff turned to me with one question: "Can we please still have an underwater nursery?" My answer? "Get designing, Boo!"

So, with the several weeks to plan, we've now got a lot of tricks up our sleeves--or at least we hope we do!--but this post will just focus on the first stage: our oceanic floor, care of the FLOR store. The basic idea of FLOR is that you can design your own unique rug made up of carpet squares. I first saw them featured on HGTV's Design Star and fell in love, and it didn't take long for me to convince Jeff this would be a good investment for the nursery. However, the color and design is all my husband's (with a little help from our FLOR consultant, of course)!

  

Once you've selected your FLOR tiles (which you can do in-store or online) from the variety of textures and colors available, they'll arrive at your house--care of free shipping!--in just a few days. Ours actually came last Wednesday, but we agreed to wait until Friday (when we'd both be home) to start the fun. Jeff was only too excited to begin!

Well, maybe a little too excited...

Now that we had that straightened out, we opened the three boxes and spread out our tiles in piles across the existing (laminate hardwood) floor.

One of the really neat things about FLOR is that it just goes on top of your existing flooring--no need for extra padding, mats, or finishes. That meant Jeff could get right to work (since I was relegated to supervision only, thanks to my growing belly).

See that sheet in Jeff's hand? That's the "pattern" (it's actually pretty random) that our FLOR consultant and Jeff worked out in store--we actually got a really cool lesson in color theory as they worked through it. Of course, that pattern isn't set in stone--we can try it out, mix and match, or even re-consult with the talented designers at FLOR if we decide we want to switch to a new color or alter the order in some way. For right now, though, we're really liking what we came up with in-store, so it only took about 15 minutes until we had achieved this transformation!

We have to say--we're pretty thrilled! It's achieved exactly what we were hoping it would--it's warmed up the room, deadened the sound, tied in our patchwork of wood tones from the furniture, and started our ocean from the bottom up. It's still not officially stuck together--we'll wait to do that until painting is finished--but we're in love!

Next up: Wavy Walls!

Dear Button: Your Mama is a Worrywart.

Dear Button,

This week was tough. I thought that, after a good first trimester screening or after we made it to second trimester or certainly after a great anatomy scan, things would get easier for me. Some days, it seems that they have, but this week was hard, and I worried about you a lot.

It started early in the week when, sadly, two of the women in my online support community lost their sweet babies at 20-21 weeks. One was a traumatic accident while the second was completely unexpected and unexplained, but both made me anxious about your own safety. And then, on Wednesday, you stopped being your regular, wiggly self--it seemed like I hardly felt a nudge all day long. At school, I found it hard to focus on my classwork; at home, I sat on the sofa in tears. I couldn't imagine what I'd do if anything happened to you.

Thursday night, your (totally awesome and completely patient) daddy did his best to calm me down. He reminded me that you're still inside my belly, flipping away, and that I'm doing the very best I can to keep you as safe and protected as possible. But, when the fears just wouldn't dissipate, he agreed that perhaps going to see the doctor to hear your heartbeat today might be a good idea--especially if it would calm me down enough to actually enjoy registering for your first big party (your shower!) with him on Sunday.

And so we arrived at today. You started wiggling a lot more (thanks, little girl!), which had me breathing a bit easier, and the doctor found your "buttonbeat" in seconds on her Doppler. You're right where I thought I've been feeling you--just 2-3 inches below my bellybutton--so now I feel more certain that it's you making my insides squirm.

When I left the doctor, I called your daddy right away. He wasn't surprised to hear you're doing just fine, and he didn't reprimand me for my need to hear you whooshing away. But he did remind me that I need to learn to manage this fear--both for now and for years down the road. He asked me to imagine the first time you bump your head, the first time you go through a night without screaming, or the first time you get sick, and he told me we can't rush to the ER each time.

We're really lucky to have your daddy, Button. He's going to keep your mama sane, I think.

And your daddy and I are really, really blessed to have you, little wiggly worm. How we love you already and how excited we are to prepare for your arrival in 4 short months!

With all my heart,
Your Mama, the Worrywart.