Friday, May 17, 2013

The Bunny Room, or, One Person's Lifelong Revolt Against Artistic Stagnancy

When I was expecting Abraham, I helped my sister-in-law paint her nursery with blue sky and clouds. I came home all excited about how easy it had been. "We could do that for our baby's room," I said to Sam. "Can you help me?" I was all ready to go out and get some sponges and some blue and white paint from Home Depot, but Sam was more thoughtful about it. He made us wait a few weeks while he did some sketches and tried out various color schemes. Instead of white paint, Sam wanted pale pinks and yellows for the clouds. I kept trying to argue for simplicity. "I'm sure it would look nice, but it's not necessary," I said. "White would look just fine."

But of course Sam was right, in the end. He painted in all the shading he wanted in the clouds, and I made a stencil for the picket fence, and painted in flowers below. Then he went back through adding details---butterflies, frogs, dragonflies---that made the whole thing look even better. And that was our first nursery.
Cute little Abraham

When we moved, I wanted Sam to paint Abraham's room again. I had always loved that part in Curious George Takes a Job where George paints the room to look like a jungle, so I asked Sam if we could do something like that.
"It could just be really simple," I said. (I always say that, and I mean it.) In Sam's mind, "simple" meant using the existing wall color for one of the four layers of detail he was planning. Again, he spent several weeks planning out color schemes and gathering reference.
The beige color of the mountains was the original color of these walls. Look at tiny Abraham!

Sam had been unhappy with the two-dimensionality of our previous room. He thought it would look better if this room had several layers, to make it look more dense and jungle-y, so he painted in background trees and animals behind the actual trees and animals. I helped fill in the sky, and various vines and shrubs after Sam had outlined them. I would say, "How about another monkey here?" or "What about a bush baby? Or a lemur?" and he'd usually oblige.
So that was the Jungle Room.

Then we were expecting Sebby, and I felt like HE ought to have a painted nursery too. I hated to make Sam go to the trouble again, but it hadn't been TOO much work at our old house, so I asked if we could just do the same thing: blue sky, clouds, maybe some flowers below. "I was never totally happy with that nursery in the old house," said Sam. "What?!" I said. "It was perfect! It was ideal! I want another one exactly like it!"

"It didn't have any continuity," said Sam. "The shapes were all over the place. I think I could design a better one now." "It doesn't have to be anything complicated," I said. But this time Sam wanted something more stylized. "It needs a unifying theme," he said. He made sketches, chose fewer colors, selected specific shapes.
And that was Sebby's nursery.

And then we moved again. (I refused to paint over any of these rooms before we moved, even though our realtors wanted us to. "It's much easier to sell when things are . . . less specialized," they said tactfully. Ha. Over my dead body. "The new owners can paint over it themselves, if they're foolish enough to want to," I said. I didn't want to know about it.)

We painted some colored walls in our new house, but with all the other costs and projects that come from moving, we never got around to painting anything more complicated. Our babies slept in our closet at first anyway (sorry, Daisy and Junie) and although we always meant to do something with their room, it just never happened. And it was a really boring, ugly room too, I'm sorry to say.

Then, this April, Sam got four weeks of comp time to make up for all the overtime he'd had lately. And we couldn't go anywhere with the baby so close to coming, so I asked Sam, "How about painting the kids' room?" "If we do it, I want to try something different," he said. "Why?" I said. "Our other rooms were perfect. I wouldn't mind having an exact copy." 

"I'm just not really that happy with them anymore," he said. "Whenever I look back at the pictures, all I can see are all the things I wish I'd done differently. I want something more artistic, something that's actually designed. Something less haphazard."

I was skeptical. (Why am I always skeptical?) "Can be it be artistic AND cute?" I said. "I bet I can figure something out," he said.
(I told you their room was ugly.)
This is not real---just a computer sketch. This is how Sam tries things out before doing the actual painting.

He started making sketches. He wanted an even more limited color scheme, and less-realistic elements for a more unified final effect. He kept saying, "This will actually make things easier." I kept saying, "But the things you did before were so GOOD!" I just didn't see why he had to keep changing things when they were already so good

You know how this is going to end. Sam did three or four designs for me to choose from. I chose my favorite. (Hint: it included bunnies.) Sam made a bunch of stencils out of his bunny designs, and we went to work.
This time, we had some great help from the older boys. They and I provided the "apprentice" labor: filling in large shapes that Sam outlined for us, going over thin spots, and stenciling bunnies (a job I was born to do). Sam did the master's work of design and large shapes and details like trees and birds. Malachi and Daisy and Junie sat in the crib in the middle of the room and pretended it was a boat.
And of course (of course!), the room turned out better than I could have ever imagined. (And of course Sam will think it's inadequate in a couple of years.) And it just makes me think how valuable it is, that drive to improve. Sam seems to have always had it. It's not that he's annoying about it, always putting himself down or fishing for compliments or saying, "No, it's terrible" when someone admires his work. Not at all. But he's just always quietly wanting to be BETTER. And then he works and works until he IS better. I don't know how he keeps it up, but it amazes me.

All that, just to show you pictures of the new little kids' room. (I would say "nursery," except that Marigold is still in our closet, so she's not really benefiting from it yet. Daisy and Junie and Malachi get to enjoy it for now.) It is SO beautiful and I love it!
Before
After

With the furniture back in (it always seems such a shame to put the furniture back in)

I often say that Sam and I are "a good team." What this really means, in practice, is that instead of always being disappointed with how my ideas turn out after I've rushed into them without enough planning and then barreled through even though I know I should "measure twice and cut once" because I decide no one will notice anyway---instead of that, my ideas turn out even better than I imagine them, better than I deserve, because I at least had the good sense to marry someone who's both willing enough to go along with them and capable enough to change their course for the better.

Lucky me.

Sunday, May 5, 2013

Flowers

When I took a Floral Design class in college, my teacher told us something to the effect of "Don't be scared to experiment, because you can't really mess it up---flowers look pretty no matter what you do with them!" I love that she told us that, because it emboldened me to do things like arrange my own (very simple) flowers for my wedding, and I've even done the flowers for a couple other people's weddings. I don't REALLY know what I'm doing (and if I want to do something more avant-garde I usually need to look at pictures) but I did temp work at a floral shop for a while and I loved it. Anyway, for our anniversary this year Sam brought me armfuls and armfuls of flowers.  Not pre-arranged bouquets, but just bunches of various flowers, and greenery. I used practically every vase we have (not to mention other things like orange juice pitchers) and arranged them to my heart's content. It was wonderful. Usually you don't have much variety to work with if you get a store-bought bouquet (and the cutting flowers in my yard, sadly, are limited) but this time I felt like I could experiment with all kinds of things. It was so fun!
I like this one. Rainbow. :)

Our house felt like a greenhouse when I was done, and we've been enjoying them all week. So pretty!

That night Sam and I went on a date and came home to the children sweetly playing games together after having had Abe give them a little Family Night lesson:
So, it was pretty much a perfect day. Thank you, Sam dear. They've been such happy years!

Thursday, April 25, 2013

Random Thoughts

You know these popcorn-glove Halloween party favors? That's what my feet look like right now. (Slightly less bumpy; shorter toes.)

I recently read that Niels Bohr's response to Einstein's famous "God does not play dice with the universe" quote was: "Stop telling God what to do." Ha.

Sam, upon being handed one of those travel toothbrushes (the kind that folds in half): "How do you deploy it?"

I spent two hours today untangling this thing ^. No one believed I could do it. It may be my greatest life accomplishment (to date). While I was working on it I kept hoping someone would ask me to do something else, so that I could reply, "I am doing a great work and I cannot come down." But no such luck.

Something that made me suddenly self-conscious the other day: gesturing with my hands in what seemed like a non-outlandish way, but as I happened to be wearing oven mitts at the time, the ridiculousness of it seemed suddenly rather prominent.

Goodnight.

Monday, April 22, 2013

Junie-bird at 2


Typical Junie-look. Kind of knowing and bashful at the same time.

Oh, Junie. How do I describe this girl? I love looking back over the last two years and seeing what baby-traits have carried through. It's one of my favorite things about watching babies grow up: looking backward, you can see the person-traits emerging in the baby, but looking forward, you can't pick out WHO this stranger might turn out to be. We still don't know, really. Sam and I look at her and shake our heads and say she's a mystery wrapped in a conundrum wrapped in an enigma (or whatever that Winston Churchill quote is---we never get it right when we say it, either). She's just some of . . . everything!
Party hat (at Sam's office)
Also at Sam's office. Coloring underneath the box robot. She exhibited great fearlessness when the robot, later, came crashing down nearly on top of her. One of Sam's coworkers leaped heroically to the rescue, holding the robot up like someone lifting a Volkswagon off a trapped child. Junie allowed herself a few blinks and show-sniffles before forgetting about it and getting, unruffled, back to coloring.

She is also fearless on the playground, (boldly?) going where no baby has gone before. (Nor SHOULD go. I have to keep hauling her down from rock-climbing walls, larger-than-baby-size-holes, and other hazards.)

Here she is looking shyly pleased as everyone claps for her candle-blowing-out abilities. I love this look.

More playground-climbing. Unaware of being watched. Singing some secret (only in meaning---the volume of the singing definitely does NOT say "secret") song of her own.

She wants to do everything big people do. And succeeds at most of it. She balances here on this rope with great seriousness. (I THINK she is pleased with herself, but doesn't like to be too demonstrative about it.)

Seb is dressed as an astronaut. A little while later Junie showed up saying "Astronaut!" and wearing HER coat and boots. (She had a backpack on too, before this.)

She really does love her brothers. Often in the morning she will come in sleepily to cuddle with us in bed. Then she'll wiggle away saying, "Cuddle Malachi?" She goes and climbs into his bunk bed and snuggles in with him (waking him up if she has to).

I still see calm and serenity in her, but her serenity often manifests as a sort of unruffled determination, or maybe calculation . . .  more like, "Hmm. And now what will I do NEXT . . . ?"

I can't wait to see who she is in another year! Love you, Junie-bird!

Friday, April 5, 2013

Easter

I think Easter is my favorite holiday. It's my favorite time of year and I just love everything about it. This year was especially good for some reason. The weather was perfect, and we had lots of time to celebrate/study Holy Week as a family, and we tried some new egg-dyeing techniques, and my friend Beth made me a bunny bracelet . . . it was just a lovely week.

Egg artists at work
Onion-skin dyed eggs
We tried a couple different negative-space effects (can't think of the real term?)---white crayon (top) and  clear nail polish (below). It was really fun to see how they all turned out.
The whole collection

Everyone looked so cute. I love this picture of my happy, grown-up Abraham.
Thoughtful Junie

My gargantuan belly seems to be the focal point of this picture. Lovely. Speaking of which, how is it possible that there are still people on this earth who aren't aware that the ONLY comment you should ever make to a pregnant woman about her appearance is, "You look wonderful!"?

Easter Egg hunts provide the best picture opportunities. There's something so cute about kids hunting for eggs! I think we broke fully 50% of them during this hunt, but luckily we can eat lots of them at a time (we like deviled eggs and egg salad!) so they didn't end up going to waste.
Little pink runner
This tiny girl was so sweet and serious about her first (real) Easter Egg hunt. She carried her basket around very carefully, but not carefully enough to keep her one egg from falling out of it every minute or so. We'd call her over to where the egg had fallen, and she'd happily "find" it again and put it back in her basket.

These boys are so handsome!