We just finished an overhaul of our tween boy’s bedroom, taking it from hodge-podge to rustic-modern-almost-teenager-friendly.
This is a pretty new house - just two years old - and we’re still trying to make it look warm and homey. The thing about newer homes is that the open concept - which makes things feel bigger and open and airy - also can feel cold and sterile.
To warm up my son’s bedroom without making it feel small and dark, we installed a shiplap wall, and it was so, so easy.
We’ve only lived in this house for two years, but we’ve already ruined it.
Am I the only mom who’s raised a bunch of filthy animals who shove things onto shelves and set things aside to “deal with later,” creating piles everywhere, until, before you know it, you’re surrounded by so much clutter, you can’t escape and your family’s had to carve their names into the sides of the cave that used to be their bedroom, just so that someone knows there are humans inside, if they’re ever rescued?
No? Just me?
I had a few projects planned to tackle this summer, to rein in the clutter, and I’ve finally completed the first one: my 11-year-old son’s room.
He had a hodge-podge of furniture from his Texas-themed room at our old house that didn’t match his new Texas Stars hockey theme here at the new house.
Also, he’s not into toys. So all the toys he’s gotten for Christmas and birthdays have just gotten shoved onto shelves, where they’ve sat collecting dust.
Our back yard and patio have been a work in progress since we moved into our house two years ago, but we’re finally getting it all pulled together, and I love hanging out back there when it's not too hot.
We just had a built-in grill and countertop put in, which makes everything look finished out, but we had a hodge-podge of furniture that needed to be replaced so the producers of Junkyard Wars would stop reaching out to us for a feature.
This is the perfect time of year - mid- to late-summer - to shop for outdoor furniture and accessories, because prices are cut to start making room for fall stuff.
When my group of girlfriends get together for any kind of trip or special event, we have to have matching t-shirts because our seventh-grade selves are desperate for a do-over, now that we have the confidence and sense of belonging that comes way after junior high, AND we have the matching shirts to prove it.
Our husbands are not on board with this matching shirt business, but we force them into it.
I’m sharing how you can make these fun custom t-shirts so you and your girls will be matchy-matchy when you go out in public, giving you that great sense of belonging you never knew you were missing.
This cold snap has finally gotten me convinced that it’s holiday time and I’m currently sitting in my big chair with my readers on, a spiral notebook in my lap, dabbing my fountain pen - the one with the long feather - on my tongue, readying it for a flurry of gifts I plan to jot into a list.
Actually, **shuffling through the pages** I’m on my third page and it looks like I’ve only listed things I want, but I’m getting to everyone else here in a sec.
You know how when you’re out in public and you run into someone you know and they’re wearing the same shirt you just saw some other lady wearing, and then when you’re in the checkout line, you notice the checkout lady is wearing that same shirt?
Borrrrinnnnggg.
I love giving people gifts that are unique so they don’t feel like you’ve just filled their name in on a form letter that could have been sent to anyone.
I’ve put together a gift guide of creative and custom gifts so you can make sure your gift-giving is met with all the heart-eye-emojis this year, and they all start less than $50, so you’ll have room in the budget to grab things for the sexiest person on your list: yourself.
You know how I’ve been working like little Cinderella on my IKEA faux built-ins upstairs, which is sort-of a catch-all room that I’m trying to make look like it’s not a catch-all room.
It’s the only room we have upstairs (along with its bathroom) and it’s a perfect place to send the kids to play their video games, and it’s where my desk is so that I can get uninterrupted work done. **Note: I have not shared that part of the room with you, yet, because it currently has piles of books I don’t want to part with, but need to, and other things that “I need to go through” 🙄
You know how you can admire someone so much because they are just perfect in every single way, and you love them so much that you’re actually disgusted by them at the exact same time as being in love with them?
Like you follow them on Instagram and they post something amazing (as usual) and you get irritated and say, “Dammit” sort-of under your breath, annoyed at their perfection and also annoyed that now you have to spend your time copying their incredible fall centerpiece or autumnal mantle setup because all you want in life is to become that person?
Today I am celebrating.
Celebrating what, you say? I’m so glad you asked.
I’m celebrating myself.
There are a few things that I’m truly good at in life. Like making a bold cup of iced coffee. And taking care of my goldendoodle’s grooming all by myself.
But the thing I’m best at?
Ok, I’ve just completed the most beautiful lemonades-from-lemons situation and I am currently more in love with myself than Kanye loves Kanye.
About a month ago I sent off our kitchen table and chairs to a lady in town who’s refinishing them, and we’ve had to move our dining room table into the kitchen in the meantime.
Last week I was tired of picking at the last bits of gel on my nails, so I did what I would end up murdering my own children for doing, if they were ever so dumb as to do what I did: I soaked my nails in a small bowl of acetone right on my dining room table top.
You know we just moved into a new house, right? Well, so something’s-- wait, I can sense that you’re giving me an “I won’t respond to that” face right now.
Ok, so it’s been 15 months since we moved, but I have a hard time with change, you know, and I’ve been mentally dealing with this effing teenager who has turned out to be someone I don’t even know, plus our youngest, who is the ebola monkey, and is constantly sick, and I can’t possibly be expected to keep up with getting this house set up and being a mom to two effed up children* and keep up with my chores so that Mark doesn’t have to dip into his reserve underwear, plus write to you once a week, as well as write a book, and stay groomed, for the love of God, and I am doing my best over here.
You probably remember that we moved into a new house last summer, and if you’re going to ask how we’re doing now that we’re “all settled in,” let me stop you to say that I have a stack of wall hangings shoved in the back of a closet that I’m still trying to gather enough emotional energy to deal with.
I’ll get to it, geez. I just have other projects that keep grabbing my attention.
Kristan (Braziel) LeBaron is an author, writer, marketing professional, and the voice of the blog, Bring Mommy A Martini. Mom to two hilarious boys: one in college and the other in middle school, she writes “real mom” stories on life with anxiety & depression, and choosing happiness as a daily practice. She lives outside of Austin with her two sons and two lavishly kept dogs.
