Blue Light

I’m notorious for jumping around rooms, doing projects as I go but something’s gotten into me and after the new gallery wall in the hallway was finished, I moved to the boring light fixture.  I’m sure it’s been here since the house was built (1980’s) and it’s not in the budget to completely scrap it for a brand new one.  So, I painted it (and forgot to take a ‘before’ picture before I did…oops).  It’s a simple little light – just a brushed silver base with a globe underneath.  After scheming, I came up with lots of ideas on ways to rework it by replacing the globe with a homemade capiz chandelier or a small lamp shade…but, eventually I settled on just painting the base.  I’ll be on the hunt the next time I’m thrifting (Lord knows when that’ll be but I’ve put in a request with Anthony to have a thrifting day for my birthday next week) for an old brassy I can jazz up to replace it with but until then, at least it’s lookin’ a little better.

All I did was take off the glass globe and then used a foam brush to prime the metal base (Zinnisser water-based primer in white).  I also made sure to prime the screws that hold in the globe since they’re visible.

Then I grabbed the leftover test pot of paint (Valspar’s Secluded Garden) I used to stamp our kitchen rug and painted the base with the same (cleaned and dried) foam brush, using a small paintbrush around where the base meets the ceiling.

I won’t be devastated if the paint doesn’t hold up but I don’t foresee too many problems since the light isn’t touched minus swapping out bulbs.

It’s a little more fun, no?

Either way, our hallway has traveled a small journey since we first moved in.

Next up is painting the cream colored door bell on the left wall.  I’d also love to add a fun geometric runner to cover up the ugly carpet but that’s number 430 on the priority list…however, I’m not sure how that would handle the girls wheeling their toys down the hall.  Anyone have a rug over carpet plus kids that stays put?  Fill me in.

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If you have a moment, please, please, please say a prayer or two for the two year-old daughter of our friends.  In the past month they’ve discovered a very large, cancerous tumor in her brain and she’s undergone multiple surgeries with more to come.  Her name is Madison and she’s so beautiful and so sweet.  I can’t imagine the difficulty it is to see your baby suffer at such a young age and my heart is broken for them.  But, they are very faithful and strong and know that God has a plan and it is always the best plan.

Blessed Francis Seelos, pray for us.

Galleria de Tobin

Naked walls are a thing around here.  If you’ve checked out our House Tour pages, you’ve probably noticed.  There are always plans to hang stuff but then babies, time, other projects, and indecision get in the way.  Not anymore (she says after experiencing the satisfaction and motivation that filling a couple of walls brings…we’ll see how long that lasts, won’t we?  Sebastian cackles in the background.)

Enter our boring hallway.

When planning gallery walls and collages and all that shebang, the hallway definitely wasn’t on the top of the list to fill as it’s probably the most inconspicuous spot in the house.  Guests walk down it to get to their home away from home but that’s about it.  I travel it’s short road only to grab something craft-related for a project or some fabric I have stashed in the guestroom.  Well, now it’s a walk down memory lane as well.  (Cue the oldies.)

A long time ago when I was perusing this thing they called “Pinterest”, this pin popped up in my feed:

(originally via Martha Stewart)

I loved the way the frames were all separated by a wide line and lined up along that line, top and bottom.  I had to have it and it had to be in the hallway.  That was the long-term plan, apparently. 

Well, since I had 20 frames to work with after our big Dirt Cheap haul, this pin was finally going to come to life.

It was seriously one of the easiest projects because all it took was a little measuring and hammering.  No collage working and re-working, no puzzling frames together in a big blob, none of that.  Just me and a few straight lines.  Here’s how I did it and how you can hang one of your very own.

First of all, this is a great project if you have a bunch of different sized, different types of frames (hit up your local thrift stores).  Like in the inspiration picture, you can layer frames on top of each other or you can have a couple of single rows like I do.  Either way the focus goes toward the vertical line down the middlestraight lines where the tops and bottoms line up.  (I know Walmart usually has an end cap full of frames of the same style for $3 each.)  Grab a bunch of different sizes or grab a bunch of the same size and alternate which way you hang them. 

Next, figure out a simple layout.  I laid all my frames out on the floor just as they’d hang on the wall to make sure my alternating pattern was going to look okay.  (Hint:  It does, so really you can skip this step if a’alternating you go.)  Then, to figure out at what height I wanted the frames, I took out the paper inserts in each frame and taped them to the walls (measurements below).
     

Once all that was squared away, I grabbed our level and (lightly) penciled in two lines along which I’d hang the frames.

Then I grabbed my handy dandy picture hanger – a piece of wood with a nail through the end:

(side view)

Then I hung the frame to be hung on it, held it exactly where I wanted it on the wall…

and pressed, making an imprint in the wall where the nail would go.  (If you don’t want to make one, this picture hanging tool would be a great investment!) 

See?

Pound a nail in, hang a frame, move on.  (Oh and don’t forget to erase/wipe off your pencil lines!)

Here are the measurements I used:

And that’s it.  Bada bing, Bada gallery wall.

As for the pictures in the frames, I just grabbed a few of our favorites off of Instagram, resized and edited them by adding the ‘Bob’ filter to each in pixlr.com (the pixlr-o-matic version), and got them printed (and delivered cause you know this mom ain’t braving the public alone quite yet), and inserted.

Since all of the frames were all stuffed in a shopping cart in close quarters, they’re all a little scuffed up here and there but it’s nothing that a little paint can’t fix.  I’m not doing it tomorrow but I’ve been dreaming of repainting our living room and hallway a bright white to lighten things up.  If that happens, how pretty would it be to spray paint these frames a pale gold?  Someday…

So, do you have any secrets/tips to easy gallery wall-ing?  Do share.  I’ve only got 50-some more walls to go!  :)

Sebastian: One Month Young

 
[He gets his gangsta from his pops.]

We’re all alive.  I can’t say it’s been a cake walk because then my nose might extend 10 feet out but, it’s been…mmm, interesting and crazy and hard and crazy and crazy.  I smiled and responded to those “You’re gonna have your hands full” people telling me, the pregnant lady pushing the twins in the double-wide, with “It’ll be crazy but we love it”, but I really didn’t know it’d be this crazy.  Camille took the words right out of my brain in her post this morning. 

But anyway, let’s turn the lights on the little man.  He’s charging up the growth scale, weighing 9 lbs. 11 oz. today (50th percentile) and stretching out at 22.75 inches (90th percentile).  He’s still a champ at eating but sleeping?  Eh…okay.  He’ll let me have one four hour stint every night and then it’s all two or three hours between feedings.  (But let me tell you – I am not complaining!  Feeding ONE vs. TWO in the wee hours of the morning is the only cake walk I’m treading right now!)  He’s still in his sleepy newborn phase but isn’t a fan of being put down so mama plays kangaroo with the moby wrap for most of the day.  Blah, blah, blah, I know lots of you know what a newborn is like and for those of you that don’t, I won’t detail his simple life and bore you to death.  The important thing is that he is dang cute and I have my handsome hubs to thank for that.  : )

Happy One Month little Sebastian!  We love you so!

Framework

A couple of days before Sebastian arrived, Anthony and I left the twins with his parents and got out of the house to run some errands.  On our way home we made a quick stop at my favorite discount store here, Dirt Cheap.  If you’ve been reading for long you’ve probably heard me mention it a few hundred times.  It’s a wreck of a store (literally, stuff is piled on shelves and racks with no organization whatsoever) but a treasure trove if you have a little bit of time and patience.  They carry overstock, customer returns, and unsold clearance items from a bunch of stores including Kohl’s, Old Navy, and Target, just to name a few.  Anyway, every once in awhile I’ll be in right after they’ve cleared a section of shelves of old inventory to make room for new.  What they do is stuff as much unsold/old stuff into a shopping cart as they can, wrap it up with lots of plastic wrap, and sell all of the contents for $10.  You can’t remove the plastic wrap or swap things from other carts; what you see is what you get.  I’ve seen it happen only a handful of times and when I have it’s just been a ton of stationary, Halloween costumes, or school supplies.  This day though, it was Target – picture frames, lamp shades, jewelry, curtain rods, iPad cases, towel bars, plates, and a bunch of other random things.  I almost fainted and I was positive that if I didn’t buy one the minute we walked in it would be stolen from me by the ten people looking over my shoulder.  There were about six carts just whispering my name but after scanning them all as carefully and quickly as I could, we snatched up the two we thought had the most stuff we could use, shelled out $20 for ‘em, and unloaded it all into the back of the van.  Observe:

(Get this – talking the full price of everything we got in our two carts, we paid $20 for roughly $700 worth of merchandise!!!!!)

What I was most excited about were a plethora of gallery wall frames.  I wasn’t positive where they’d all go but as it happens I’m notorious for leaving walls blank for far too long so I thought maybe they’d light that fire…and they did.

Here, my friends, is what our hallway looked like yesterday morning:
Blah-zayyy.

With the entire city of Mobile (and the entire south) on ice lock-down, Anthony had Tuesday (yesterday and today too!) off, so I got a little time to be productive.  I shared a glimpse Tuesday on Instagram of some changes that were going on in said hallway with our plundered frames:

As I type, all the frames are hung and pictures are ordered and should be here next week, when I’ll share the how’s and what’s, where’s and why’s. 

Stay tuned…or should I say, sorry to keep you ‘hanging’.  Har, har, har…   

Happy Birthday Sebastian

I wish I had some crazy story to go along with the entrance of our first son into this world but alas, I don’t.  He was late and scheduled.  As nice as it would’ve been to have him in my arms rather than be 37, 38, 39, and 40 weeks pregnant, we were actually hoping for a late arrival – anytime after January 1st of this year – for insurance reasons.  (In a nutshell, after the twins were born we added them to my individual insurance plan while Anthony kept his own because we weren’t allowed to switch to a family plan until the election period.  That period came and we switched but our fam plan wouldn’t become active until January 1, 2013.  Great, good, grand, and wonderful, right?  Wrong.  Then we got pregnant with Mr. S in April and found out at our first doc appointment that we had at 365 day waiting period in which NO maternity care would be covered.  Mind you, we endured the same waiting period when we had first signed up for this insurance three years prior.  I mean, we were part of the same insurance company so why the waiting period when all we did was switch plans?  Might I also mention that I have been covered under this insurance (*cough*BlueCrossBlueShield*cough*) since I was a wee tot?  Is that an infuriating idea to anyone else?  “Get to the point Sheena!”  Right.  So, Sebastian was due Dec. 30th but his delivery wouldn’t be covered unless he was born in 2014.  A couple of days was literally the difference between us paying thousands of dollars or only paying a small deductible.  Nail-biting.  Well, the kid arrived Jan. 3rd and we still have an open savings account, thank God.  And, needless to say, we switched insurance companies for the above hassle and frustration PLUS the fact that due to Obamacare, our new BCBS plan was going to cost us $300 more per month (!!!!) starting in 2014 and loaded us with a deductible that was $5000 more than what our current had been.  What a joke and a whole ‘nother story.)

So, 2014 was here.  Anthony’s parents were here to help us out while we were at the hospital but they were only here until the 7th of January.  So, because we really needed their help while and after our hospital stay, we planned an induction for January 3rd.  Back up to the night of January 2nd, when this story starts…

You might remember I was induced with the twins.  I went in the morning of their birth because I was (and had been for three weeks) three centimeters dilated.  Seven hours later, they arrived.  With the boy (he didn’t have a name until a few hours after birth), I had been barely one centimeter for weeks so I was told to come in the night before the actual induction for a “kick-start”.  So, we put the girls to bed along the usual routine and then packed up and shipped out to arrive at the hospital around 10 pm.  We walked through the barren lobby, rose up the empty elevator, and waddled (just me, not Ant) down the quiet hallways of the labor and delivery ward where we were given our room assignment and me the super-stylin’, backless gown.  When we were settled and signed in, a nurse came in and checked my dilation (if I was three cm or more, I’d get to go home…I was hoping that was the case).  One freakin’ centimeter still at 40.5 weeks!  All-nighter at the hosptial ‘twas.  They gave me that little white pill they put up by the cervix to soften it, one at midnight and one at 4 am.  Exciting, no?  After the second one, I started feeling stronger contractions (strong as in still pretty weak but hefty compared to the boring Braxton-Hicks).  I was missing my girls, still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I was pregnant and delivery was imminent, battling whether I should get the epidural or not, scared at the thought of labor pains, dot dot dot.  For short, my mind was racing so sleep hid from me.  I faded in and out all night to whatever was on the mounted television or my phone until 6:30 rolled around and my doc came in to break the boy’s water.  Buuut, break it did not.  The kid really didn’t want to come out and he meant it.  After trying a few times, the doctor said he’d come try again later if it didn’t break on it’s own.  At this point I was a little scared I’d made the wrong decision to induce seeing as some little someone was hell bent on staying inside… 

But, the party kept on going.  Pitocin was added to my drip…oh wait, let me back up.  Right after my doctor left, a nurse came in to check me again (one cm, mayyyyybe two) and stick me with the IV.  Stick me she did and with no results.  I’ve had a few too many IV sticks in my life and have never given a nurse a problem poking me.  Then this one came along.  She was sweet as could be but she had to call in another nurse to get my IV in.  What’s worse than one giant needle poke?  Two, in my book.  Once nurse numero dos got my IV in, the pitocin came and with it, contractions.  Stronger and stronger, you might know how it goes.  Along with the contractions came water.  Apparently the sac had been punctured because with each contraction came a small tidal wave.  Check that one off the list and keep on laboring. 

By the time 9:45 am rolled around, I had had my fair share of contractions and requested the doctor with the numbing meds to come along to me “pretty, pretty please”.  My nurse said he had a few other rounds to make and that he’d probably be 15-20 minutes.  Okay.  Fifteen minutes passed.  Twenty minutes passed.  Thirty minutes passed.  Did you know that once your water breaks, contractions become 2847593 worse?  Forty minutes passed.  Welling tears.  Fifty minutes passed.  “Offer it up, offer it up, offer it up…AHHHH!”  An hour passed.  “Curse the anesthesiologist!/Somebody kill me!/We are DONE having kids!  An hour and fifteen minutes pass and guess who waltzes in.  Yep.  He who supposedly would have/should have been here an hour ago!  (Side note:  Never let your frustration towards a doctor wielding a very large needle show to said doctor.)  I know he wasn’t frolicking down the halls with a lollipop in hand or that he stopped and hit up all those post-Christmas deals on the way to my room so I tried not to be too perturbed at him but just happy all the pain was about to cease.  I tried my hardest to “bend over as far as you can” during” one of those wonderful post-water-break contractions and to keep my wincing to a minimum but damn, that hurt! 

One, two, skip a few because after the epidural kicked in with all it’s fuzzy warmth, uneventful was the name of the game.  The time was 11 am.  The nurse continued to come in and check my dilation (I had hit 5-6 cm sans epidural) and declared around 11:35ish that “we’re gonna start pushing.”  Part of me was excited it was finally time to meet this kid but the other part wasn’t.  The few minutes of shut-eye I had gotten the night before were obviously not going to hold up against the energy it took to push a baby out.  On top of that, my legs felt like they were on the fluffiest clouds you could pluck from the sky and I was warm and toasty and…….zzzzzz.  That’s what I wanted.  I wanted everyone to just leave me alone so I could sleep.  I didn’t want to push.  I was even okay with waiting a few hours to meet our son just so I could take a round trip flight to dreamland.  But, back to reality.  It’s time to push.  Legs up.  Here’s a contraction.  Push like you mean it only you can’t exactly feel where or how to push because you can’t feel anything under your lower back so you sorta just wing it and hope the kid is sliding out?  Yes and yes.

So with every contraction it’s three, 10-second sessions of pushing, over and over and I’m the most tired I’ve ever felt in my entire life when all of a sudden Anthony lets go of my hand and says “Babe, I’m sorry. I think I’m going to pass out.”

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!!!Suspense!!!

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!!!Suspense!!!

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I looked over at him and he was white as could be.  The nurse looked at him like “Great, he’ll pass out and then it’ll be me and two basket cases vs. the one I already have” and then she told him he’d better sit down.  And that’s as exciting as got.  Anthony put his rear in the nearest seat for a few minutes and took a few deep breaths and all was back to normal in a few minutes.  More pushing from me until finally the seas calmed and the wind died down as my wonderful doctor walked through the door.  (Seriously, I have theee best doctor.)  After what felt like an eternity (but in reality was about 30 minutes) of pushing with the nurse, it seemed we weren’t really getting anywhere.  Why?  Because the boy was transverse somehow – head down but crooked!!!  Like I said, hell bent on staying put.  Doc told me I could’ve pushed forever and never moved him because of his positioning.  I had one word to describe my son so far – “stubborn”.  Let’s hope he left it at the cervix.

Five minutes and a little help from the doctor later and our 7 lb. 7 oz. baby boy was born.  The time was 12:23 pm.

 

At this point I was so tired all I wanted to do was take a look at the miracle kid and take a nap.  Maybe sad but true.  I looked in awe at him on my belly and then handed the care-taking baton to Anthony.  The next few minutes and hours are a blur.  I vaguely remember nausea, feeding Sebastian (still unnamed) for the first time and being amazed at the power-nurser he was right from the get-go, drinking the two apple juices they gave me like they were my last meal (I hate apple juice but I was starving!), and the opening and closing of the door as nurses came and went.

Later, the recovery party started (always fun) as the epidural wore off and allll the glorious effects of giving birth came in full swing.  Don’t worry, I won’t go into details but I did “joke” over Instagram that I’d wish the pains of labor and it’s recovery on the next person that ticked me off…only I wasn’t joking.  Look out. 

Somewhere during that time we also settled on the name Sebastian Richard – Sebastian inspired by St. Sebastian, patron of soldiers and athletes and Richard, after my father who passed away in 2004 – vs. Solomon, Felix, or Isaiah or any other names I came up with that Anthony shook a stick at.  (Sebastian’s been Anthony’s dream name for a son ever since picking names for an upcoming kid has been an issue in our lives.  It also happens to be my sister’s favorite name and a strong contender for her first son.  That son was born last July and lucky for us, her husband wasn’t a huge fan of Sebastian so Augustin became him.  Crisis averted.)

That night my in-laws dropped by with the twins, who were a little weirded out.  At first they just stared at me and weren’t interested in giving me any attention much less climb in bed with me but after a few minutes they warmed up, checked out the tiny human in the room, and took to their norm of checking out the place and attempting an overhaul.  Can’t you tell how overjoyed they are via this gem?

       
I think it’s a framer, whadya think?  I know, let’s talk about how the only two people in utter comfort here are the men…

So, there ya go.  The first chapter in the story of our third addition.  There’s not much more I can say about it except that I’m glad it’s over and that it’s a real good thing you forget the pain (wait, do you really because I’m pretty sure the memory still makes me wince…) because we’d all be only-children, am I right?

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Hungry for more labor pains?  Grace has a monster link-up with lots and lots of birth stories.  Go over and get your fill of other people’s pain…in the most miraculous and exciting way of course.  ;)