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Happy Birthday to My Number One Love

At 5:27am, October 29, 2010 a little overcooked baby changed my life forever.  I love my little guy more than words can express, I am honored to be his mommy and am simultaneously excited and sad to watch him develop into a little man.  Eero, you have my heart forever.  Happy Birthday doodlebug

October 29, 2010

October, 2011

(and just so you can get a sense of scale)

oh yes, he walks

And because I’m great at saying silly things about furniture but not so great at writing about motherhood, I’m letting Tina Fey sub in for me.  Admittedly, this was written for her daughter, but I think it says what all of us mommies feel:

A Mother’s Prayer for Her Child By Tina Fey

First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.

May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the Beauty.

When the Crystal Meth is offered, may she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half And stick with Beer.

Guide her, protect her when crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.

Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance. Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes And not have to wear high heels. What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You, because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit.

May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers.

Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen.Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long, For childhood is short – a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day – And adulthood is long and dry-humping in cars will wait.

O Lord, break the Internet forever, that she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers And the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.

And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it.

And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord, that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back. “My mother did this for me once,” she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck. “My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental Note to call me. And she will forget. But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes.

Amen.”

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K-Dawg Update

A-hoy-hoy maties!  Sorry for the mega silence, between all the summer travels, interweb zombie attacks and Persian rug buying I’ve had zero zilch time to send you design love letters.  Please accept my sincerest apologies and give Erin a WhatWhat for, as always, keeping it ‘tril.

So, you cats want to know the down and dirty details of what I’ve been up to?  Well, apparently I’ve started saying cats, which is concerning, but also I’ve been slowly sprucing up my living room, which is not concerning but instead very very exciting.  Let’s have a look see

So, what’s new here?  1!!!!  I replaced my junky 8 x 10 black leather rug with this mega 11 x 14 persian beauty.  Thank you ebay for the deals, it was totally worth a week of sleepless nights and mouse-hand-cramps.

A-hah!  That is not all.  Some of you may notice and mourn the loss of my gold panther table.  I’m sorry.  I was done with it.  The fact that it was only mildly baby unsafe was enough to justify it’s banishment in exchange for this Milo Baughman / Thayer Coggin sparkly white parsons number.  Tada.  Love.

Also, the table to the left of the couch is a blue laminate piece i picked up for a whopping $15 at Salvation Army.  It kills.  The lamp on the opposite side of the couch is a gagillion pound solid lucite piece that I nearly stole from my new secret favorite store.  Sorry, I don’t kiss and tell.

What’s in the works?  Art overhaul.  Tupac, I love you.  I love your mommy Hope who painted you, but you have been over 2 consecutive fireplaces and a television totaling 7 years of front-and-center display.  I’m going to put you away for just a little while and replace you with great aunt Tootsie’s antique, geometric wooden mirror.

Dining room art?  I love you too, but I’m afraid you no longer fit in the mix.  I’m seeing something simple and graphic, perhaps several framed eye charts?  Readers, I’m open to suggestion here.

PS sorry for the crappy photo, i’m not erin.  It’s a wonder i can even hold my camera still at all.

Ok, so these are actually not staying in my house despite the fact that they are stunning beyond words.  Good ole erin sleuthed them on the CL and we decided to split them among ourselves.  Despite our well-laid plans we have decided that the pair simply can’t be parted and they are currently living in living room limbo until we hammer out plan B.  Hint:  Plan B may or may not be on our website soon and could possibly mean that these 6’4″ beauties could land in your living room.

Side note, pretty please ignore the bear in this shot, I leave Eero’s toys on the bottom shelf for him to fondle and forget to take them off before my high-profile photo shoots.  Good mommy loves baby more than decor.  Who knew that would ever happen?

Speaking of babies!!!!

I thought I would show you a couple of shots from the past few weeks since I haven’t been around to sing your praises.  (did I mention that you are awesome?!) Here’s one of eero at Grandmommy’s house.  Why is he so confused?  I don’t know, swimming seems pretty clear to me.  Maybe he’s wondering how he got so cute?

After the family trip to g-ma’s I had to venture to vegas for work.  Should you ever be so unfortunate to find yourself stuck on the strip for more than 1 day, do yourself a favor and zipline over freemont street.  You can thank me later.

PS, to anyone who lives in Vegas, I have no doubt that life outside LV Blvd is lovely.  Life inside it on the other hand…

So there you have it, living room make overs, giant lamp take overs, grandmommy sleep overs and zipline flyovers.

WTF was that ending?

 

 

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B-B-B-Baby and the Jets

Ok dudes, I know no one is sitting around in this beautiful weather reading design blogs (otherwise I would have had, like, a zillion comments on my hilarious post on wood last week).  (whatever).  Since my keen design vision and insightful comedy stylings are not to be lost on blind interwebs, I’m taking this opportunity to see if there really is anyone out there.  In each of these pictures lies a hidden clue.  Look closely.  I will supply hints along the way.  Let’s see if anyone can find the golden trinket in each photo.

Hidden among this otherwise unnoteworthy photo of Sir Elton John’s bedroom is the most amazing image you will ever see.  Keep looking.  It’s there.  I promise.

A good night’s rest and fresh eyes should help you to locate the secret image among this kinda lame office in Sir Elton’s apartment.

Hint:  the thing that you are looking for does not have electric boots or a mohair suit, but it may or may not be chewing on a microphone.  You can do it!  I believe in you!

Ok, do not be distracted by the amazing snake photographs / mirrored console / silver curtains in the only room that is appropriately decorated for the rocket man himself.  I photoshopped in something special just for you here.  Can you see it?

Ok, that was hard.  do you give up?  Discreetly hidden in each photo was the world’s most precious baby (under 18 months division) as seen at his very first 80s dance party.  No, Lady Gaga is not his godmother, but his real mommy is pretty awesome and doesn’t think much of Elton John’s apartment.  Can you guess who the baby is?

ps you can see the complete snooze fest of a tour here.  pps martyn lawrence-bullard designed it.

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