Someone get this girl a mood ring

let's get emotional girls to all wear mood rings

so we'll be tipped off to when they're ticked off

cause we'll know just what they're thinking

-Relient K, "Mood Rings"

Love the teenage punk band reference?

After three pregnancies, you start to catch on to things.   You no longer worry about that weird jabbing feeling in your uterus that makes you gasp when you stand up, because you know it's totally normal.  And you rarely mention the leg cramps, heartburn, back pain, difficulty breathing, etc. because you've been expecting it.  And the 30-something week emotional breakdown?  Well it wouldn't be a Janine-pregnancy without it.  As proven by my dutiful blogging these past 3 years (here and here) I'm prone to hormonal surges right around this time of pregnancy.

He likes to point out the acorns ... all 5,000,000 of them.

And so this week, while I was sitting on the toilet seat in our bathroom (the farthest, quietest corner of the house at the time) crying my eyes out.  It suddenly dawned on me - I'm 32 weeks, this is totally, completely, part of the process.  It's not me, it's the hormones.

And the hormones aren't helped much by current circumstances.  Jon's back to work now.  And he really likes his job.  So much so that he tends to spend 12 hour days there.  We also have a contractor (who Jack has affectionately dubbed "the man") working on the guest room that likes to show up at 7am sharp.  Which means my day starts with the rising of the sun, and I'm flying solo until Jon walks in the door during dinnertime.  And that sounds so quaint - dinnertime.  What it really means is I'm up to my elbows in dishes.  Jude, who finished all three helpings of his dinner within 10 minutes, is emptying out the drawers, shoving things in the broiler, or crawling in the dishwasher.  And Jack, who has been sitting at the table for about an hour now, has still only taken 3 bites, yet managed to go "pee pee" on the potty twice in 10 minutes, is being told to "sit in his seat" for about the 50th time that meal.  Ah sweet family mealtime.

Jack keeps a close eye on "the man" and gives us the play by play on all the "the man's" doings.

The good thing about being on my own all day is that we have a good routine.  This mama runs a tight ship.  The boys are up at 7.  Lunch is at 11. Both are taking a nap by 12:30.  Jude's down for the night promptly at 7.  Jack's picking out his 3 books and changing into his jammies by 7:15.  And Mama is about to crash by 7:30.  I mean, raising two toddlers is exhausting.  They just don't stop.  Unless they're taking a nap.  But those are the only hours I have to cook, clean, and oh yeah, do my other job.  Sooo, in case you haven't noticed yet, the energetic phase of pregnancy has officially passed.  I concede, I am tired.

My two little loves.

But it's not just the "can't deal with it and crying on the toilet" moments.  I'm all over the spectrum here.  My sentimental sensors are on high-alert.  And when it comes to my kids I'm hearing, seeing, feeling more deeply than ever.  Like when I'm sitting in the middle of church, listening to the pastor preach about shipwrecks, and all I can think about is how much I stinkin' love my little family.  Or I'm listening to Jack begging "Jude-buddy" to come play with him and realizing how grateful I am for my two boys, the little buddies and those rare moments when they get along.  Or when it's time for Jude to go to bed, he's practically jumping out of my arms while reaching for his crib and I'm just not ready to put him down yet because I want one last snuggle before the day comes to a close.  Or that sparkle in Jack's eye, the smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth when he gives me that look, the one that says, "Man, I have a cool mom."  Nevermind that he'd never think to say it.  I know what he's thinking.  And even the Little Miss, when she does her happy dance after I've laid down for the night and she knows she has my full attention.  The way she kicks and rolls and grooves.  She's won my heart completely.

When he smiles, the birds burst into song... okay not really, but it seems like it.

 Yes, there have been some bitter moments this week.  But it's not been without it's savory bits either.  And in these final weeks of pregnancy I'd so much rather dwell on those... at least until things start to really get crazy.

Always looking for a new vantage point.

We have a promising weekend on the books, and a "lighter load" for me over this next week.  Which means, also judging from previous pregnancies, full-on nesting mode is right around the corner!  Woo hoo!  Nesting is ten times better than sobbing in bathrooms!  Happy Friday!

Chore Boy

We're a mere 8 weeks away from the Little Miss' due date!  And that means 9 weeks away from our firstborns third birthday.  Crazy!  And to think I keep telling people he's 2 1/2.  So with this coming of age means exciting new developments, like preschool!  But I haven't quite sorted out all the feelings in my head or on my heart about that venture yet, so we'll hold off for now and focus on other new territory that comes with 3 years well-lived - chores.

After living rent-free for 34 months, we figured it was time Jack started earning his keep.  Ok, just kidding.  Really we want to instill in him a sense of responsibility, leadership and a good work ethic to help enhance his application to the Coast Guard Academy in a few years.  Okay, just kidding again.  Sorta.  We just want the kid to be a good person okay!  And, for the most part, he enjoys giving us a hand around the house.  Unless it involves picking up his toys, or helping him change his clothes.  Anytime I ask him to do either of these things he says, "Mommy's turn, Mommy do it."

My plan is to have a neat little chore chart for him to follow when we start our new routine this fall.  Of course, I also realize that many of my plans for the autumn are gonna go up in smoke once our little babycakes makes her appearance.  But I go on dreaming anyway.  The challenge is, determining just what Jack is physically and mentally capable of doing.  We've done a few trial runs recently to help make those decisions.

Mail Run
Jack loves to spot the mail truck.  And thanks to our fantastic new bay window, i.e. the fish bowl, nothing goes by the front of our house without one of our boys notice.  And the picture clarity is even better than our TV!  So once the mail truck pulls up we do a little happy dance by the window, maybe throw a few cushions off the couch in anticipation, and then wait until the mailman is about two doors up so we don't have to deal with the awkwardness of standing by the box while he's still unloading the envelopes.

Until recently it was a chore that I just took care of myself.  So Jack was beyond elated when I announced the other day that it was now his turn to retrieve the mail and "Quick, get your shoes on! *insert hand claps*"  It had just rained, so he returned with his Wellies and I sent him off to the end of the driveway with strict instructions to stay out of the street.

The few yards walk suddenly seemed way too far from my vantage point in the doorway and I think that for a moment, I felt what it would be like to send my kid away to college.  But he was oh, so excited, and so proud to go all by himself.  So I stuck it out at my post by the door.  And waited.  And waited.  I could barely see the top of his head above the bushes, but couldn't figure out what was taking so long.  Finally, after a short eternity, I heard his little voice floating through the branches, "Mom, I can't reach.  Can't reach Mom!" 



Oops.  Shorty isn't tall enough to open the mailbox yet, poor kid.  So I ran out quick, opened the door, pulled out the mail, stuffed it in his waiting arms, and then ran back to the door and pretended like I was never there so I could snap this picture:

Job well done Jack!  So that's Chore #1, modified to "Walking to mailbox with Mama, and carrying the mail back to the house for her."

Laundry
I thought for sure this would be a winner.  Jack has been a great assistance for several months now in transporting the laundry from the upstairs to the laundry room downstairs.  In other words, he thorougly enjoys throwing, kicking, and riding dirty clothes down the staircase.  Actually carrying it to the washer is another story.  But there's more to laundry than just manual labor.  It's also a sorting exercise.  And I thought what a perfect opportunity to incorporate some educational lessons into hard work.

Naturally, Jack takes the sorting aspect a little too far.  Whereas I was thinking just "lights" and "darks", Jack seems to think it's important to label each article's owner.  So instead of just pulling handfuls of clothing out of the hamper and throwing it in the basket in a timely manner, he has to pull each and every item out, one by one, and announce, "Mommy's shirt, Daddy's unner-wear, Jack's jammies, Jude's pants..."  And then when we get down to the laundry room and it's time to put it all in the washer, it's the same thing, "Mommy's pants, Jack's unner-wear, Daddy's socks..."  One by one, into the washer.  I'm quickly learning that toddler chores are so much less about helping me be efficient around the house and more about new experiences for my kiddo.

Of course, we must not leave out the real highlight of doing the laundry - pushing the blinking button.  Heaven forbid I do it myself and compromise my son's sense of self-worth ... as demonstrated by an emotional meltdown.  Jack firmly believes he was put in this family to push the "start" button on the washer and dryer.  And between potty training (which has suddenly gotten much, much better I should add), cloth diapers, and two dirt-playing, messy-eating little boys, he has plenty of opportunities to exercise his gift!

Watering the plants
Surely this would be it, I thought.  The inside plants may be a bit challenging, but the outdoor ones are a perfect task for a 3 year old.  I just didn't realize how zealous he would be about our botanical friends' liquid diet.  Anytime the child finds a bit of stray water, he's dumping it on the plants.  I've had to explain about flooding, and that when water starts flowing off the top of the pot it means the plant isn't thirsty anymore, etc. but at least the greenery has been flourishing under his care.

Okay, so he doesn't always get the water IN to the plant...

And if there's ever water left over in the watering can he's more than happy to take care of it himself.  Because, hey, chores are hard work!

He's got the "hey, I'm about to do something crazy" look in his eyes.  You little rebel, you!

Jon also mentioned that our son is an excellent stick picker-upper and a great help with yard work.  I was taking advantage of the quiet moment inside the house, so I didn't get to see it or take pictures.  But judging by the number of trees in our yard, I'm sure Jack will have plenty of opportunities to shine in this area in the future.  Other than that, we're still looking for a few more chore ideas before fall.  And once we get into that groove our next step is to find ways to keep Little Brother busy.

And out of trouble.

Because that certainly seems to be his M.O. these days.

Any ideas for chores for a 15 month old?

Deja Vu

Blogging has been put on the backburner recently so I can pour all my free minutes into crafting some baby bedding.  Projects are like books to me, once I start I can't stop until it's done.  Which is why I've been staying up too late bent over the sewing machine (or the seam ripper, unfortunately).  Maybe it's nesting, maybe it's the fact that we finally have a small stretch of uneventful days, but I'm feeling the urge to get baby's room started. 

But just so you're not left without your regular J & J fix, I snapped this shot today:

Jude, 15 months.

Which reminded me of this picture my friend Jenn took over 2 years ago:

Jack, 9 months.

What a cute pair of boys!  I totally see the resemblance, but I do not see twins.  Which is what yet another person asked me last weekend.  I think that's the fourth time I've been asked that and it still takes me completely by surprise.  I mean, we're talking a 15ish pound difference here!!

Speaking of poundage, Jack actually weighs more in the picture above (at 9 months) than Jude does in his picture (at 15 months)!  As cutie as they both happen to be, these boys are just so different!  I took them both to the doctor's office last week to get a referral for an opthamologist appointment.  Jude is somwhere in the 25th-50th percentile (thankfully up from the 10th percentile he was in a little bit ago!!) but the important part - his noggin - is a healthy 95th percentile.  Jack, who I thought was thinning out, actually just got taller. At 38 pounds his weight and height are now both 95th percentile.  He continues to be our big boy... and his little brother continues to be a great balance.  Can't wait to see where their sister is going to fit in!

Our Story, Part XII: Grad Week and Growing Up

Read previous installments of "Our Story" here.

Previously I mentioned that Spring 2005 was a busy semester.  Sadly most of my journal during that time is about my boyfriend being too busy to call me, or canceling plans to visit me, or neglecting to send me cards or gifts in the mail.  I felt like things were getting very dull, and actually missed what life had been like before we were "official."  It certainly was a lot more fun!

May 12, 2005
I've received less phone calls and zero cards or gifts since we've been together.  So what's the point?  Having someone to be sweet to if we're ever bored?

As my now-husband has been known to say, "When you catch the bus ... you can stop running."  Well guys, not exactly!  But thankfully, an end was in sight.  We both finished school and I headed up to Connecticut with Jon's family for one of the most memorable weeks ever - Grad Week!

May 19, 2005
What a great week!  Seeing Jon every day for 5 days in a row is almost too good to be true!

And was it ever oh, so good!  There were ceremonies and parades, luncheons and banquets, cruises and balls!  Okay, just one ball.  But it was a big deal.  Actually, everything was a big deal.  Such is life at the Academy.  But it was fun to let yourself get caught up in it all, even for just a few days.  Because after graduation each of the cadets that had spent the last 4 years together were now Ensigns and spreading themselves out across the nation ... and putting all their education into practice. 

For Jon, that new home was a 5-bedroom beach house in Virginia that he shared with 4 other friends ... and a teeny-tiny stateroom on a cutter, where he actually spent most of his time during that 2-year tour.  I was able to make it down for one visit before he left on his first patrol.  I fell in love with the neighborhood, the beach, the town, and the school I was planning to enroll in the following year.  But all too quickly the weekend ended, Jon was off to sea, and I was back home to a lazy summer of waitressing and dreaming of the future in the sun.

As an Interpersonal Communication major in college, I learned a little about relationships.  And after Jon and I started dating I became really interested in the whole "long distance romantic relationship" field.  I figured it would be a beneficial area of study for myself, so I ended up writing one of my final senior papers on "LDRR's."  You'd think I'd have it all figured out, and on paper I might.

I can list all the reasons for a couple to "choose" an LDRR.  I can explain why couples in LDRRs tend to feel greater satisfaction in their relationships than those who are not, why their "highs" are so "high" and their "lows" are so "low."  How simple miscommunications can be so easily blown out of proportion.  How they tend to put their best foot forward during the face-to-face time they do have together ... and also tend to brush problems under the rug because it's not worth ruining the small amount of time they do have together.  I can explain what leads to an LDRR's success ... or demise.  But ultimately, everything I had studied didn't matter, all my personal experience has led me to one fact: long distance romantic relationships just plain STINK, like old, rotten fish stink.  They are a wretched, exhausting experience.  And I'm just relieved that it's not something we have to deal with anymore, at least not on the level we used to. 

June 23, 2005
I thought I'd be able to handle this whole long-distance thing fairly well.  I guess not.  I'm not quite sure how I'm going to make it.

But back then, there was no end in sight.  I would spend most of my day missing my boyfriend.  Then call him that night but not have anything to say since life wasn't very exciting at the time.  And so we'd have a short, uninteresting conversation.  And I'd hang up thinking something was wrong, maybe we weren't in love anymore, maybe this is how break-ups start off ... And then Jon wouldn't call for another day or two because he was busy moving into his house or starting his new job or going jet-skiing with his buddies.  And then I'd worry even more, trying to figure out what I could do differently, or why my boyfriend doesn't even act like he misses me.  Looking back, I just had too much time on my hands.

June 28, 2005
I wish I was drop-dead busy.  Anything to make the time go by faster.  And yet I don't want to just "get through" this next year.  I want to accomplish something.  I just don't know how to make things better.

So things would continue in this scary, downward spiral until finally something would go right  - Jon would call and say something super-sweet and convince me that we really, truly were meant to be together and that this was all just a phase.  Or we'd get a short little visit, a weekend of pure bliss together and each other's undivided attention, and at the end I'd wonder just what I was all worried about in the first place.  Surely, we were meant to be.

August 2, 2005
Honestly, if I didn't think Jon and I had a definite future I wouldn't both with a long-distance relationship.  They're all work and no fun.

Needless to say, I did a little growing up that summer, became a bit more rational.  I quickly learned some lessons that I've carried with me all through out our marriage.  I learned that it wasn't all about me ... or Jon.  That sometimes other people, jobs, activities, require our attention at that moment.  That just because my husband was devoted to his country didn't mean he couldn't be devoted to me.  That relationships aren't all rainbows and unicorns all the time, that sometime there are very mundane phone calls, very boring emails, very routine days, and very ho-hum evenings together.  But that's life.  And in the end, I'd rather share a boring phone call with my man over a very dull day than lead an exciting, exotic life without him.  And just because life wasn't as thrilling or eventful as those first days together, didn't mean we loved each other any less.  If I could have only known then, how important this would all be later, especially when I started my new gig as a military spouse, or rather, as the wife of a deployed sailor.  But that's getting ahead of the story. 

Then again, from the moment we had gotten together, from that first Sunday Jon sat next to me in church, people started assuming we were engaged.  My pastor would jokingly check my left ring finger every Sunday, just in case there had been a change.  Friends and friends of friends started asking when the wedding would be.  And then I started thinking of wedding plans... and glancing over the calendar trying to figure out which dates landed on Saturdays that following year.  One of Jon's friends had just gotten married and told him how great wedded life was - that no matter how fun life is with "your buddies" there's no better roommate than your wife.  And then Jon started doing the math - adding up the increase he'd get in housing allowance, the extra amount we'd earn in separation pay whenever he was out to sea, the fact that I'd actually have some health insurance after I'd graduated - and the numbers were just a little convincing.  And then there was the family, who kept hinting at the future - the big family vacation that Jon's mom's family was planning the following July, Jon's sister's family's next visit to the States from Israel, my Dad's wrestling team schedule that winter and spring and, most alarming, the rate that others around me were getting engaged ... and gobbling up all the best wedding dates!

It was at this point that I started to realize Ken and Barbie had it so easy.  If my memory serves me right, Ken just walked up to Barbie, got down on one knee, pulled out a ring, asked her to marry him and she gasps and says, "Yes, oh yes!" There's no discussion of dates and who is available when and what happens in the meantime.  Ken never asks her what kind of ring she wants, he just instinctively knows.  And Barbie hasn't a clue that she's about to start planning her wedding.

The real world doesn't work that way. Jon and I had only been dating for a few months, and most of that time had been spent miles apart in turmoil. We had no idea what his deployment schedule would be the following year. We also agreed that I would not be moving down to Virginia until after a wedding, if there was one. And he assured me that there would be no ring until Christmas-time, at the earliest.  So while I didn't know when I would be engaged, I at least knew when I wouldn't.  And so I shoved all the worry aside, all the talks about dresses and money and dates and reception halls. There was no reason to worry about all this until I had a good reason to.  And until then, I was determined to enjoy the last sliver of summer that remained ... and the last few days I would get to spend with my Coastie before he deployed to sea again.  I was so clueless...

Baby .78

Our little girl. It still hasn't quite hit me yet. And maybe that's a good thing because there is definitely a chance that our Miss could be a Mister. I love this stage of pregnancy. I'm so aware of her and her little life fluttering around in my belly. I think about her more and more and imagine what it will be like to meet her. But we're also in home stretch territory now. This is the third trimester and I'm fully aware of that too. Both my boys were due in the middle of the month, so I was fairly certain I knew what month they'd be arriving. But this one, this one is due October 5. Which means she might be born in September. Which just so happens to be next month. And we're not ready, not even close. I'm still trying to find places to store my jeans, the dish towels, photo albums, etc. Where are we going to put a baby?! But don't take it personally Little One.

30 weeks, 5 days ... to be exact

So when I last wrote a baby bump update, we were celebrating the "showing" milestone... and the fact that a stranger actually noticed I was pregnant.  Well the past two weeks have been a bit of a reversal.  We went to a church membership meeting last weekend and all I heard was "you're so tiny," "Seven months?  I would have guessed you were just a few weeks!" "You're pregnant?"  *insert pouty/pursed lips and slanted eyes*  All I want is to look really, genuinely with-child these days.  Pregnant like I mean it.  Instead I am realizing just how quickly I am losing time to prove to the world that I am indeed carrying a baby.  Here, put your hand on my stomach for a second and you'll know what I mean!  Or, let's exchange bladders for a few minutes and I'll prove to you there is a healthy-sized elbow pressing on that organ.  Or, can you not see my belly button entering the room a half second before the rest of me?

But the truth is, I am carrying small again.  And obviously it does bother me a bit.  All three of my pregnancies started out the same, and then around 26 weeks things leveled off with Jude or they escalated at epic proportions with Jack...  This pregnancy is reminding me very much of Jude's, so I have a feeling we can expect another 7 pounder.  At 31 weeks my weight is the same as it was at this point in my last pregnancy.  In fact, I haven't gained more than a pound in two weeks, but it's not for lack of trying!!  On the other hand, this baby's older brothers keep me more than active, I just hope she gets a chance to grab some calories before I spend them chasing down the other two.

Driving cars over Mommy's belly.

Back to baby.  I haven't had a midwife appointment in a few weeks, but when I did she was sitting breech, totally normal at this stage.  But I think things have changed since then.  Now that I'm on my third kid I'm getting a little better at interpreting humps, bumps, kicks and punches.  I'm guessing she's more head down now, maybe slightly diagonal, but I could be wrong.  There is definitely something substantial under my right ribcage, which makes me sit a little crooked, and a lot of activity in my upper right side and lower left side.  Sister likes to make her presence known.  And her brothers are starting to catch on.  Jack says things like "Sister in mommy's belly" and tries to give my belly a drink of his water.  Jude likes to push and pull on my belly button.  And both boys have found that my bump makes an excellent hill for toy cars.  Hmm, I'm afraid they won't find a newborn nearly as much fun.

And I'm enjoying the bump as well ... except when it keeps me up at night.  I did finally cave and pull out The Nest a few weeks ago.  Ah life is good again, sleep is sweet.  It's just a little hard to get out of bed in the morning, at least gracefully, but the full-night's sleep and fewer leg cramps are well worth the additional effort.  And despite what hubby says, I know he enjoys The Nest too.  I've found him cuddling up to the side more than once when I wake up for a potty break.  :)

But The Nest is not to be confused with nesting because that I haven't done.  I did mention I started on Baby's bedding, but I haven't done a thing in over a week.  I also haven't got out any clothes or baby things yet ... I mean, I just got that stuff put away after the move!  We have plenty of time ... and more if she ends up being late like I imagine she will.  But it's not that I'm not excited and anticipating her arrival.  Oh, I am.  I'm just willing to draw things out as long as possible.  Pregnancy truly brings out my patient side!

I did read and finish Birth Matters this week.  It's very good.  I was underlining like crazy in my Kindle.  But I should say that although I agree with a lot of what Ina May Gaskin says, and I love a lot of her natural birth philosophy, we approach that philosophy from very different perspectives.  And no, I have no plans of ditching my present life to go live on The Farm for a few weeks and birth a baby in a cottage.  There are a number of different ways to approach natural childbirth.  I just don't want anyone to read the book and think Is this how Janine really feels?!  No, I didn't need to go back in my psyche and clear out any emotional blockages preventing my labor from progressing.  And no, I didn't need to "let my monkey do it" in order to have a great delivery.  And no, I don't repeat mantras to myself during contractions.  Those things are all fine and work for many people.  I just don't want others to think I'm something I'm not.  My births were exactly like I say in my Birth Stories.  But if I do find myself tapping into my "inner monkey" this time around, I will certainly let you know!

And speaking of inner monkeys, there's a little monkey inside my belly begging for some ice cream, and I dare not refuse!

More House Pictures

Thanks everyone for your super sweet comments on yesterday's photos!  I gotta give my man credit though, he does a huge chunk of the decorating.  And he largely influenced the paint color choices as well.  He's definitely made me more of a risk taker over these past 5 years ... just wait 'til you see the color of our bedroom.  But first.

Den
Before:

After:

Remember how I said the old owner loved yellow?  Did she ever!  The old den was a super-bright, sunflower yellow.  Not a bad color in and of itself, but it didn't seem to suit a lower-level TV room.  Our goal was a color similar to what we had in the house we rented, but this came out much greener.  We love this room though.  Our furniture barely fits (notice we ditched the coffee table and opted for more floor space for the kiddos), but it's a cozy place for watching movies.  This also doubles as our playroom.  It's a challenge having a space for kids that doesn't scream "daycare" or something.  Ergo the baskets.  Love those things.  And that built-in bookshelf.  The fact that we can fit all our books on there, and still have space leftover, is major. 

Half-Bath
Before:

After:

There's also a half-bath downstairs.  Not much to look at, not really sure why I'm including it ...

Boys Room
Before:

After:

Remember Jack's nautical nursery from days gone by?  Well we've big-boy'd it up a step or two.  In case you didn't notice, Jack is officially in a "big boy bed."  We made the switch a few weeks before we moved because, frankly, it was getting too difficult for me to read him books in bed.  Okay, and maybe because I came across the quilt for super-cheap at "The Christmas Tree Shoppe" and decided we needed to use it right away.  And maybe I went out a few days later and bought another one so that the boys can have matching nautical/patriotic quilts when they get bunk-beds someday.  Maybe.  Anyway, the transition was a piece of cake.  He still calls it his "new bed" and loves it to pieces.  The cutest part of the story is that it's actually Jon's old bed and before that it was his dad's.  And the matching dresser as well.  I love the tradition!

We have Jude's crib in here too.  They do share a room occasionally, but for the most part Jude's been sleeping in the nursery-to-be, just because he tends to take shorter naps, is the first to go to bed at night, and is the first up in the morning.  But when the new baby comes I think we'll just have to deal with it. 

Anyway, this is one of our favorite rooms.  Three years ago I said I'd never go with a theme, but I don't regret it.  It's just been too fun finding little nautical treasures to add to their room.  These boys are bound to love the sea!

Boys' Bathroom:
Before:

After:

Again, not much change.  We just removed the plastic dinosaur accessories and changed the light blue to a more turquoise.  Oh, and added a 1 year-old pounding the toilet with a hammer...

Master Bedroom
Before:

After:

Deep breath.  This is the room I'm least sure about.  I'm going to let it go for now and hope it grows on me.  See, I have always wanted a teal wall in our bedroom since we received the bedding as a wedding gift.  But it's so much easier to imagine something than to actually do it.  I love the teal wall, and I love the other paint color as well, I'm just not sure how I feel about them together.  Yet.  This room is already on the darker side, and I don't think the paint color helps much.  Then again, it's a bedroom.  We spend very little time in here, and the time we do spend is typically sleeping.  Regardless of the hue, what this room really needs is some decorating.  I think a spree at Home Goods is in order ASAP.

Master Bath:
Before:

After:

Basically all we did here was switch our the burgundy paint for some teal (which you can't even see) and put up our own plant because we liked their idea.  Oh, and added a curtain.  Because without a curtain you can literally see into the shower from the backyard.  Weird.  This bathroom is tiny.  But I will say we love the big shower.  The shower door ... not so much.  It's just a bit awkward having a completely clear glass door.  Especially when your toddler likes to come sit on the toilet while you take a shower and talk about what you're doing, your lack of clothing, the bubbles in your hair.  Yeah.  Gotta get some frosting for that bad boy.

Nursery (Sneak Peak)
Before:

After:

This is the beginnings of Sister's room, although Jude is sleeping here for now.  Okay, deep breath again.  It looks a little strange now.  And the paint color isn't exactly what I was picturing in my head.  But stick with me and I think it will all come together.  And in case you're wondering where I'm going with this, here is my stack of inspiration:




I've already made the cribskirt.  Next up is a quilt and bumper.  I've never done anything like this, and it's definitely testing my sewing skills.  But if it all works out I think it could be fabulous.  And if nothing else special.  Baby Girl needs something of her own, and I'm totally enjoying being the one making it for her.  So when I'm not sewing, I'm keeping my fingers crossed that my vision translates well in reality. :)

And that's it!  We're adjusting to life in a split-level.  Some things I love - having the TV on a separate floor from the main living space, which is on a separate floor from the bedrooms.  Only 6 steps for Jude to fall down at a time instead of 12.  The charms of a 1960s built home.  Other things are less than like-able - the fact that noise carries so easily ... especially during naps.  And the wood floors, while charming, are really creaky in some spots, like right in front of the boys' bedroom door.  And they seem to creak even louder at night and during naps.  But overall, we're so very, very happy.  Now that we've settled into the house, we can't wait to take on our new life here in Maryland!