Last night Ben sat me down and said something to the effect of, Honey — I think you have a  problem. Except that’s not exactly what he said, because husbands who call their wives Honey are kinda icky. Anyway, how dare he criticize my obsessive need to endlessly repaint swatches on the wall, my 800 trips to return failed curtains, my seeming inability to make a single decision on my own?

How dare he care about my happiness?

I must admit to getting a little caught up in timetables, in the hormonal rush of nesting on the clock. And like some commenters noted yesterday, rushing has definitely brought on mistakes — nothing catastrophic or terribly expensive yet, but mistakes nonetheless.

I also admit to enjoying decorating as a spectator sport. I LOVE showing you guys what I’m working on, but it’s pretty grueling to turn something out once a week. Or even once a month.

Add to this the fact that even the pros disagree on decorating “rules” (have you seen House Beautiful’s 101 Decorator Secrets? SO MANY of them directly contradict each other. Awesome!), and I find myself rudderless, aswim at sea. Too few parameters and too many variables.

I like order, dammit. Tidiness. Mathematical certainty, objective truth. That may seem a little weird for someone schooled in the arts, but I will remind you that photography is filled with mathematical formulae and sciencey stuff. I love the unbroken line of cause and effect. I struggle against the nihilism of anything goes.

Order. Symmetry. Complementary. Happy.

So I will busy myself with finding a way to work, because I do enjoy solving problems (and trust me — my patchwork paint swatched bedroom of horror IS a problem), but forgive me if my updates come a little fewer and further between.

Things will get done, but perhaps progress will happen on a more geologic scale.

Also I am tired and huge and the baby is punching my cervix 24/7.

That’ll slow a girl down, too.

Everyone knows it’s bad luck to announce a pregnancy before the end of the first trimester, but here I am. Throwing caution to the wind. I may indeed end up birthing a three headed, chimeric monster. Or perhaps I may end up with no baby at all. But if that happens, I can think of no better people to share it with than you. All thousands of you.

Gulp.

When Karly and I started this endeavor 800 years ago, I never imagined that people would be the coolest thing about blogging. But you are, and I just want to say thanks for reading. In return I am going to try rully hard to whip my lazy ass into shape (not literally – those days are now long gone) and show you some updates. Because guess what? I have to decorate this entire house in 6ish months.

Yep. That means I have to give up my beloved Pawn Stars and Downton Abbey marathons, stop eating so much Costco ice cream (THE BEST), and fight the overwhelming urge to fall asleep at odd times and places.

Instead I’m going to have to do more of this:

And this:

And this:

Wish me luck.

[Pamplemousse, Miles Redd, AD Russia]

Yesterday I regaled you with exasperating tales of bedding shopping and decor waffling. Let’s back track to the beginning of this convoluted plot arc, shall we? For over a month now a new bedroom plan has been percolating, largely inspired by Karly’s suggestion to use a wicker screen as a headboard for our hulking king size bed — our bed for which an inexpensive, conventional headboard cannot be found. I mean seriously, could Ikea not make this dumb bed in a king? Could West Elm not make prettier beds? Could craigslist not throw me a vintage bone instead of listing after listing of gross Haverty’s sleigh beds?

Apparently they cannot. And I can’t find a wicker screen large enough to stretch behind our ginormous, now white be-duveted king bed, heretofore known as Moby Dick. Pun intended.

Anyway, here’s what I’m thinking. Sort of.

I mean, how could I go wrong with a Miles Redd inspired room, featuring an awesome vintage screen as my bedding focal point?

Here’s how: I have two big windows behind my bed. They are ruining my life.

So, if I use a normal size screen, then I am effectively blocking our beautiful windows. And while the mole in me approves of this idea, the sunnier, sparklier me knows it’s dumb.

Even though that’s exactly what’s going on in this picture. Surprise! There’s a window behind the bed! Yeah, I’m not fooled, either. Plus our wall is much, much longer than this one.

What I really need is a low, long screen that won’t completely cover the window wall. And this entire bedroom. Hot diggity dog.

This screen would also do.

Because the necessary dimensions are so particular (at least 72″ wide, and rib cage height), I’m thinking about buying one of these blank canvas screens and recovering it:

This is exactly what I suggested Elissa do when she wrote in for decorating advice, so I’m not sure how it’s taken this long for me to apply the solution to my own conundrum… I’m really not too bright.

Anyway, I like the idea that this plan would allow me to pick a nutty fabric, and my white duvet and neutral wall paint will be totally understanding and supportive. Plus, it would be easy to change up the scheme when I tire of it, which will probably be about three seconds after I finish the project.

Now, I just need to commit, pick a fabric, and decide what to do about my window treatments… curtains? Roman shades? Scrap this whole idea and waffle some more?

The forum is open to suggestions.

[Miles Redd, Michael S. Smith, Trad Home, House Beautiful x 2]

I’ve kind of always wanted a crazy, patterned couch in colors that would make grandma blush. But would today’s favored pattern become tomorrow’s mauve and teal flamestitch? Oh wait… that’s coming back, right?

Hot damn, not bad. I think I’d even like it in teal.

Anyway, what do we think? Balls out, all over upholstery, like only Miles Redd can bring it:

Or could we cheat a bit and maybe just tuck a blanket into the seat cushion to create some interest:

Can I tell you how much I love everything in this picture? Love. This is my Acid Wasp wet dream.

I may or may not be obsessed with contrasting patterns. Am I? Do you feel the need to save me from myself, or to egg me on?

So is the blanket thing too messy? Or is it ever worth the splurge to just upholster the whole couch in a pattern? I’m a little scared things could veer into Buatta territory. And expensive, I-redecorate-every-five-minutes territory. Still, wouldn’t it be fun to do it up righteous?

Can you tell I’m super sick of having leather couches???

Happy Monday, folks. It’s going to be a good week. Or else.

[1st Dibs, House Beautiful via, AD, Lonny]

I told everyone I was a leprechaun when I was little younger. I might have been overreaching a tiny bit. On the other hand, perhaps I truly am descended from the wee folk. Let’s review the facts: I am so short that I wear a size 5 shoe. I have funny pointed ears. I look fabulous in emerald green. My name is Erin and my mother was an O’Connor. Oh, and I love gold. A lot. Let’s just agree (for today, after which time I will pretend this never happened) that I might have a bit of the magic so that I can shower you with some luck o’ the Irish.

Nuevo Estilo via Nero Chronicles

Molly Luetkemeyer

Florence Lopez

Miles Redd for Oscar de la Renta

It just wouldn’t be a St. Patrick’s Day post without a pot of gold shimmering at the end of the rainbow…

Dolce and Gabbana certainly know how to bring on the bullion.

And now I impishly decree it to be drinky o’clock.

Go chug some green beer and get liquored up!

Our house looks like an earthquake hit — you couldn’t find any survivors in here if you tore up the house with a crane. Perhaps I am waxing a little heartless and cruel (what with all the natural disasters going around of late) but I think you catch my drift. It’s rully messy in here.

Why, you ask? Because after a record shattering eight glorious hours of sleep, I decided in a fit spastic energy that we should convert our guest bedroom/Ike’s nursery to Ike’s nursery/playroom.

Doesn’t it look like a kid lives here? No? You obviously get more sleep than me.

The whole conversion thing is really a pretty easy leap to make (unless you are very very tired), but it did involve lots of moving. And throwing away. And then… I decided to ditch the old cloying Smoke color and repaint the entire room. And now the sleep buzz has worn off but the mess is still here.

I am a walking natural disaster.

Anyway, finding the perfect gray is like finding your soulmate: get as close you can and then compromise on the rest. Sorry, HB, I’m just saying that a good relationship takes effort. I still like you.

Most of my house is painted Benjamin Moore’s Abalone Gray:

So I thought to myself, slam dunk! This is going to be MF awesome. But, no. Gray is a bitch. She is a hooker by night and a puritan by day — a chameleon in gekko’s clothing. Who knows what that’s supposed to mean, but I think you catch my drift. Maybe.

While lovely in no less than five other rooms of my home, Abalone looks like lavender crap in Ike’s room. So today I’m going to visit Sanders again and pray that the god of paint (that would be Sanders) can help me solve this riddle wrapped in an enigmatic conundrum of a cookie. Or however that hackneyed phrase goes that I can’t even properly recall. Guess it’s not that hackneyed after all…

To sum it up: my house is a mess. I am busy. Please, occupy yourselves with the AMAZING transformative properties of paint, as evinced by Christiane Lemieux, the creative director behind Dwell Studio:

One room, three Benjamin Moore colors: Wrought Iron, Gentleman’s Gray, Winter Orchard. I am completely totally obsessed with all three colors. The plan was always to do three of Ike’s walls in Abalone, but since it sucks I’m hoping Winter Orchard will take the gold medal here. One focal wall will be in Wrought Iron (I think. Or I could change my mind entirely…). I would KILL to paint the entire room in Gentleman’s Gray (or perhaps that Major Tom wallpaper I keep kissing when I think HB isn’t watching?), which is oh so close to the ever popular Farrow and Ball Hague Blue:

Miles Redd kills it.

But it’s really too dark and just doesn’t make sense for this house. Next house. Promise.

Ok, now it’s time to get busy and work my everloving ass off. See you when the rubble clears.

If you catch my drift.

From where I stand, things are about 2872% better than they were last week — give or take a percentage point. I would hate to be accused of hyperbole. I attribute this meteoric rise in not crappiness to three things:

#1. None of us are sick. Hoomutherbleepinray!

#2. Wine. Lots of it.

#3. A clean house. We scrubbed everything down and flipped our flatweave leather rug over. Best decision EVER. I’m never buying a single sided rug again — well, at least not until Ike learns to stop rubbing his yogurt face all over everything. So, maybe after he goes off to college?

To celebrate my new glitter encrusted sparkly rainbow unicorn outlook, I’m going to lift the angry ban on color and post some rooms guaranteed to tickle your pleasure center. If you’re at work, try not to have a When Harry Met Sally moment when you peruse these…

Miles Redd

Via MFAMB. Does anyone know where I can find the more pictures of this house? I am total lust with that coffee table.

Molly Luetkemeyer of M Designs (psst, check out her blog here)

Nate Berkus

Elle France

That was some powerful stuff. I hope you did a good job hiding your nasty face from prying eyes.

As you’ve probably guessed, I have a decorating disorder. It goes a little something like this: watch, wait, buy nothing, get jittery from watching and waiting and buying nothing, buy everything, tire of almost everything, sell everything. Repeat ad infinitum. I’ve sold most of the big ticket items from my craigslist jag so inventory is now on the low end, and you all can guess what happens next… Except that I’m kind of enjoying the purge — so much so that I might dig a little deeper and sell more. It’s liberating, and I’m not mad about having a few extra benjamins kicking it in my bank account.

But it’s not like the wily monkey on my back is giving up without a fight. He’s always tempting me with stuff like this:

Brian Park

I really appreciate the all overness of this look, and it does appeal to my need to cover every square inch of space with something — be it paint, wallpaper, patterned floors, furniture, etc. I wouldn’t want the empty parts to feel neglected, because no one like to see a sad room.

Darryl Wilson

On the other hand, a minimal palette and restrained use of furniture and accessories is so refreshing. I think it’s hard to do this look without it feeling unfinished or sterile, but when it works, it’s motherbleeping sublime. Check it:

OWI

Head Over Heels

Shoot Factory

Style Files

Marina Abramovic

Elle Decor

Sure, it doesn’t have to be all white, but it doesn’t hurt. More color and variety in materials = more temptation to head into binging territory. Oh, but the road to excess leads to the palace of wisdom, you say? Quite so. Quite so.

Miles Redd

Lee Radziwill’s home

Anna Sui’s home

Miles Redd

Christoph Theurer

Kelly Wearstler

Rachel Whiting

Now that you’ve had a visual feat, what do you guys think? Binge or purge? Excess or humility? Lady Gaga or Neko Case? Angel food cake or devil’s food with chocolate molten center and sprinkles on top?

Oh, and don’t worry — SOOL is coming up soon. Pinky swear!

Despite my long standing love for hardwood floors, I extolled the virtues of carpet in Monday’s post. This mystifying self revelation came about when I started to calculate potential renovation expenses, because carpet be cheap. True, carpet can be crazy ass expensive (Camilla from Designalogue wrote in to say she installed wall to wall ALPACA freaking carpet in a client’s home), but if you’re a careful shopper, it can also be quite reasonable. Although I’ve never had carpet installed, Collyn of ModFruGal has, and she quotes her price for hardwood flooring plus installation as being around $10 (our cost was similar when we redid the kitchen floors), vs carpet at around $4. So, if you’re covering a lot of sq footage like The Hunny and I may be in our new/old dream home, that is a HUGE difference. Still, I’d like to explore all possible cheap flooring options, and lovely reader Michael pointed us in the direction of plywood floors.

Say what???? First I wax poetic about carpet, and now plywood?

No really. It’s kind of awesome.

I mean, would you be mad if your floors looked like this? (Thanks to Michael for the image!)

I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised at this woody turn of events, since this isn’t the first post I’ve written about how chic plywood can be. But it is interesting to see it used as flooring in homes where hardwoods or concrete would traditionally have been the materials of choice.

Marine plywood in a super modern Italian designed house. via Dezeen

And of course you could always paint your floors, like this plywood floor in an art studio. Since it’s plywood, you don’t have to feel bad about covering your beautiful hardwoods.

These plywood floors were painted to look all rusticky and stuff. Via Coastal Living

Perhaps imperfect floors would give you the perfect excuse to experiment with designs. Although the next set of images are traditional hardwoods, these ideas could work equally well on inexpensive plywood. via Design Sponge

I always like a good checkerboard. In muted tones, the pattern remains very neutral.

This room isn’t really my style, but I like the idea of painted stripes.

These are marble, but there’s no reason you couldn’t inject some hot geo drama into your floors, as in this Miles Redd designed home.

But of course, white painted floors are always a popular choice. Check out Door Sixteen for excellent info on how to paint your floors white here. Image via Living Etc.

Although an opaque paint would most easily disguise flooring imperfections, a nicer plywood floor would look awesome with a translucent stain that allows the grain to show through.

Stenciled and stained chevron hallway via Alicia B Designs.

This room is a little too country, but the floor rocks. via Country Living

This diagonally stained room by Mark Cutler is AWESOME. He explains how to do it here.

The simple, ebony stained floors in this home designed by Sabrina Bignami could still be gorgeous in plywood.

So I’m thinking plywood sounds like an interesting flooring option, but I’m a little concerned about installation. Do you glue the boards to the floor? Nail them to each other somehow, so that they float? What happens when the boards expand and contract? Does anyone have plywood floors, or have experience installing them?

Inquiring minds need to know.

I read somewhere that every room should feature a sculptural element that adds dimension to the space. Does that mean that Michelangelo’s unsheathed schlong should peep out at your guests from the darkened corner of the living room, like a creepy neoclassical sex stalker? Not so much. I also feel that this is inappropriately inflicted on visitors:

OWI

There is a worse view, but I’m really too kind to force the full frontal on you. I think the lesson here is to save the kinky stuff for the bedrooms, people. And also that it would be cooler to keep anatomical sculptures above the nipple line. Clothing is nice, too.

Abigail Ahern

Trust — you need a bust. True, the eyes may track your movements across the room, but that’s better than… other things following you.

Francois Halard

Karly is going to like this post because she has enough heads to fill a stadium full. Of heads. But not as many as a certain someone else we all know and love:

Kellz is totally into heady tableaux, as seen on her overstaffed dining room table. Click this link to check out more examples of her head games.

Skona Hem

Never fear. Despite her best efforts, La Wearstler hasn’t (quite) cornered the market. Busts abound.

Paul Costello via Roseland Greene

I want to live in this room forever and ever, amen. The chairs.. the logs… the windows… the lady head. Yessss.

Eddie Ross

Miles Redd

Simon Upton

Nick Olsen

Abigail Ahern

Paul Costello

Now these heads are all well behaved, polite and easy to talk to. But tune in on Wednesday for a collection of busts that belong only in the homes of brave and adventurous people. That means you, right?

I thought so.

I have endlessly related the saga of our kitchen remodel, so let me just continue the epic arc by saying we spent the entire weekend working our collective arse off, trying to get the kitchen ready before the stork drops his B bomb. I promise to do a big reveal sometime this week, but in the meantime I’ve been wondering if we made a huge mistake. After reading this article in the NY Times, I realized that we could have saved ourselves a bundle by simply living with the pukey trifecta of 80′s builder grade oak cabinets, almond formica countertops, and screenprinted ceramic tile, and waiting for it to come back in style. So what if it didn’t match our 60′s ranch house at all? Wouldn’t it have been fun to just hang out in a “design time capsule,” as the NY Times puts it? Check out the homes of folks who decided to do exactly that.

Jason Reitzin is the doppelganger for photographer Larry Sultan’s dad, and I think he lives in his house, too. Apparently, he has lovingly maintained the original 70′s decor, right down to the salon style hangings of needlepoint sunflowers.

All is not lost, though. Those lucite base tusks are everywhere, and the glass and chrome furnishings would be at home in many designer spaces. Personally, I’ll be ganking the pair of ottomans.

Maybe my grandmother was having an affair with Mr. Reitzin? Because I could swear she had those comforter sets… oh, but she would have insisted on pink carpet. Nevermind. Can we talk about that lamp and nightstand, though? Kelly Wearstler and Jonathan Adler would mud wrestle for that set.

Moving on the 80s, I can get into some minimalist decor, but this does not do it for me. Maybe it’s all the hair, maybe it’s the black leather, maybe if only that poster said, “What Would Michael Do?”

A very 80s dining area, complete with the light fixture that came with Karly’s house (Karly, perhaps you should rethink renovating your kitchen before it’s too late???). The uber straightbacked chairs would obviously maximize your posture, forcing you to put your best shoulder pads forward. All this room is missing is a Longo print of a stockbroker hanging himself.

My favorite part is the kitchen, though. If this doesn’t make you rethink putting black granite countertops in, I don’t know what will. On the other hand, I would not kick those black lacquer cabinets out of bed. I think Miles Redd must have visited this pad before he designed his own kitchen:

I would not kick Miles Redd or his kitchen out of bed.

It’s probably because I live in a 60′s house, but I feel altogether more comfortable in this home designed by the Atkins family in conjunction with an architect. Knock all that crap off the awesome two tiered, white coffee table and I am ready to move in, as is. I might even give up my firstborn child for that wall of brass, but before I sign the papers with Satan, let me get back to you after the stork drop. Although I hear that brass doesn’t cry or poop…

I think Ikea is busy at work knocking off those chairs, and I will take the light fixture, please. Really, the only problem I see with this space is over-Tchotchkeification, and let’s face it — old people hate to throw away stuff.

And you wouldn’t begrudge these cute old people their precious stuff, would you?

I’m starting to think old people have really good taste… Our last house on the tour was built by architect Donald Olsen in 1954. He and his wife have lived in the home ever since, keeping many of the original furnishings intact.

Cantilevered lamps, Breuer chairs, books and mod paintings — this room encapsulates what almost every designer in America is currently tryng to recreate. It’s pretty amazing to consider the kind of taste that still looks current over 50 years later.

Hello gorgeous van der Rohe chairs! And are window walls ever a bad thing?

So, what do you think — in 40-50 years, would my 80′s kitchen be the height of fashion? Or does it take true foresight to design for generations to come?

How well do you think your current decor would age if you had to leave it all — as is — for a few decades?

It’s been an eventful, loooooooooong weekend at Casa Erin. Our brand new cast iron sink arrived shattered in pieces, my in laws came to assemble cabinets and sew seat covers for us (yay!), and we found out that we’re having a boy. Oh, boy! Now, somehow — despite my initial instincts — I had convinced myself I was having a girl, so this was a little shocker. And I hope you won’t think I’m a terrible person for saying this, but it’s kind of scary. I mean, I know what girls like. We like unicorns and rainbows, purple and pink, and we like glitter. Sparkles rule! But growing up with two brothers has taught me little about boys, except that the rubber wheels on Tonka trucks get excellent traction in long hair, and being drenched by a bucket of cold water is not a nice way to wake up in the morning.

Decor for boys? Complete mystery.

For months I have been stuffing the guest room/nursery with thrifty toys, snippets and remnants from other projects, hoping the whole mixture will magically congeal into a happy baby wonderland. Now, I’m confused. Really confused.

Will he appreciate my fondness for precious baby deer, other than to one day see them as dinner?

My dad is seriously going to jump straight out of his Carhart pants when he realizes we’re having a boy. He’s already got plans to buy baby hunting outfits and tiny rifles. I don’t suppose they make pink camo?

And I’m guessing my frilly scalloped pillow shams with mystery messages (anyone speak Vietnamese?) will have to go. I think boys like dragons, but I don’t think they like ruffles… unless I get really lucky and have a baby Miles Redd.

Maybe my favorite vintage piggy bank will make the cut. But I don’t know about these guys:

I think that coulrophobia is probably gender neutral. The little guy is actually pretty cute, but the fleshy one looks like he hasn’t shaved for days and may be hiding a bottle of ripple behind his back.

I wonder if my own little guy will appreciate the stellar deal I got on this gigantic Seguso for Marbro lamp ($25 at a thrift store). Or will it just end up all broken pearlescent glass, smashed into a hot mess by an epic Big Wheels accident?

Anybody want to buy a lamp?

Will he be soothed by the sounds of my Furby, or will he attack it with a hammer, ostensibly to figure out where the sounds come from? Not that I’ve ever seen one of my precious, precocious brothers do such a thing… (RIP, Happy Apple)

I’ve been saving these since I was a teenager. Surely everyone loves monkeys and Pikachu? And Kermit? No one likes Miss Piggy, not even girls.

When he’s older, will he enjoy the books I have so conscientiously selected for guests? Perhaps I should warn him that some are much better than others.

Or maybe it’s best that he find out on his own.

While I struggle with tiny, inconsequential matters — like how to raise a boy when I myself am completely wang-free — I thought I’d ask you wonderful readers for ideas on how to decorate the nursery. Here’s a few overview images to set the stage:

Don’t mind the rolled up carpet and stacked piles of art in the corner; renovations have caused a fair amount of deco shuffling. We’d like to keep the bed and dresser in here, but I was thinking about moving the tall chest into the closet and putting this crib in this corner, so I can easily see it from the door.

This is the only room in the house that still retains its original band-aid beige wall paint (just say no to flesh toned paint!!!), so I definitely plan to paint over it. I was thinking of doing pale gray with black on the window wall, but now I’m thinking of gray all over and painting a colorful super graphic on the wall opposite the bed. I love this post that Molly over at Designer’s Brew did for a chill, gender neutral baby room. How would pale gray, aqua, tangerine, and maybe a hint of tomato red look together? Plus black, white and gold as neutrals.

Don’t worry — I will be editing the accessories. Severely. (If you live in Austin, stay tuned for garage sale info!) But, if I can, I think I’d like to keep this guy in the room:

He might just make up for losing the deer.

Ok, readers — especially those of you with boys — any sage decorating advice for a first time, shell shocked, mother to be?

And for everyone who perishes the thought of decorating a nursery, not to fear! I’ll be back on Thursday with expert paint advice in our very first Ask Sanders column.

But, wouldn’t you know it — all the rooms will be blue.