"Nursery Inspiration" - a page from our adoption scrapbook

Or: "How Crystal's baby's nursery SHOULD look but never will because while she is quite possibly a veritable genius when it comes to jewelry/blogging/being Dustin's wife/being a phobic/ruining baked goods/eating chocolate, she is not nor will ever be a good interior designer."

The Monstrous Crib of Hideousness

Please don't think I'm awful for hating this crib. The crib looks better in the photos than in real life. The walls, on the other hand, look even more rosey in the photos!

Repainting them is not an option. See, remember, I painted the rest of our entire house over the course of the past two years. I.Hate.Painting. Plus, I really really really suck at it. Big time. Hence hiring the painter guy. He did 100% better job than me; the paint is just so light, we didn't see the touchups that needed to be done in the lighting we had when it was finished. Dustin and I even looked. Dustin still can't see them, but he's just blind (he loves me, love is blind, right? Something like that, anyway.). In the early daylight though, they show.

The only thing I like about this room is the fact that we decided to paint the ceiling the same color as the walls. I love that and will probably do that elsewhere too. But I hate the color, and want to seriously harm this crib. I've never liked light toned wood, at least wood with too many yellowish hints in it like that. A true natural like pine or something can look nice for some things, but this crib has an odd tone that makes me want to puke. Cherry is ok (our floors are fake "natural cherry") and walnut is nice. I like espresso colored furniture the best (hence my dining table and living room armoire) and those black cribs are pretty sweet too. Espresso is my favorite though and what I would get if I bought everything new.

So here it is, the monstrous crib of hideousness against its backdrop of too-light-and-rosey walls. Ignore the trim. And the orange chair that is, for some reason, still in existence. I placed the trim on the floor to make sure we still had it all, but it is not yet attached or re-painted. The trim and door will be lighter, like almost white. Or I might take the almost-white back and get pure white since the walls ended up being so light.

*sigh* I hate being so picky, but this is really bugging me and I'm not entirely sure why.

A recipe for disaster

I love recipes, but just the ones that make food. The ones that only make disaster? Not so much.

The paint in the nursery dried and I discovered I liked it on the paint card a lot more than on the walls. It has too much of a rosey hue in the background and is too light. I pretty much hate it, but now I'm stuck with it.

We put the crib together today, and the crib looks awful with the floor. Actually, I don't even like this crib without the floor. It's huge and, well, kind of ugly (to me). I don't like the color and never did, but I was being frugal and frugality doesn't always breed gorgeousness, you know? I thought I'd be okay with it, but I'm not.

After putting it together and seeing spots that need to be touched up on the too-light-and-rosey walls (actually, I'll probably be calling the painter back to do a second coat), and seeing the monstrous crib of hideousness, I totally lost it. Cried for an hour, letting it all out at my poor, confused husband. I cried about things from 15 years ago that I didn't even know were an issue. Who knew the monstrous crib of hideousness could be therapy?

I feel like the nursery and making material preparations for this baby is the one and only thing I can control throughout the whole process... and I can't even get that part right. I just want our baby to come home to a room that's pretty. The baby won't care, but I do. I bought a crib I hate and picked a paint color that's not that great. I should have just gone with green for the walls and not looked at Craigslist. Now I'm stuck with too-light-and-rosey walls and left wondering whether or not I want to waste money for a new crib in the colors I like. So, I guess I'm materialistic. I want a nursery that looks like it's out of a magazine, not one that looks like someone threw up all over it. Blame it on society. Materialistic beasts!

I feel like a failure of a mother already.

I'm not cut out for home decorating. I'm just not. I have nice pictures in my head that I can't translate into reality. I have a nice picture of being a mom in my head as well... will I continue to fail at that too?

Don't mind me. I just hate this crib.

Now that's what I call faith...

... or foolishness.

Or just a really good bargain.

Take your pick; it could go either way, really.

Whatever you call it, the fact is that Dustin and I bought a crib on Saturday.

Yes, a crib. A baby crib.

WE... the 100% infertile people... BOUGHT A BABY CRIB. On Saturday. Not yet knowing if we would be accepted into the adoption program.

A 3-in-1 crib in really good condition... for $65. Thank you very much, craigslist!

I found the crib on Thursday. The day we thought we would hear from the agency. No call from the agency, but found a really great crib. Friday, again, no call from the agency. Still a really nice crib. Saturday... agency closed... no call. Still a nice crib. We buy crib, barely squeezing it in my tiny car, and bring it home, hoping that we didn't just waste $65. We figured that if this program didn't work out, we'd still adopt somehow, from some place, and would eventually need a crib. But if not, hey, for $65, we could sell it ourselves and get it all back.


See? A crib. In OUR house. Right beside the Gazelle that never gets used except for as a clothes hanger holder. Hopefully future baby will like to work out because we, well, don't.


And that is the room where the crib now lives. Hopefully eventually it will be a nursery, but right now, it is where our clothes hanger holder workout machine sits, as well as where I throw fold our clean laundry and where my husband irons his work clothes. It is also where Molly sometimes poops. See the carpet cleaner bottle there? Yeah. That's Molly's fault.

So... whether you call it faith, or foolishness, or just a really good bargain, as of Saturday, Dustin and I are now the terrified proud owners of a baby crib.

And oh yeah... the adoption agency called today. Our application got the highest score out of all of them. We're in. :o)