My sanity is in a fragile place right now. When people talk about wanting to nest when you are pregnant, turns out they are not messin’ around. My hormones are possessed by the ghosts of David Hicks, Billy Baldwin and Sister Parish and they will not settle for less than perfection. Not that anything I am dreaming up is as fab as those three, but you get the point.
I was good.to.go. on our baby boy room when I was certain that was what we were having, but as we are decidedly not having a baby boy. We are having a baby girl and a baby girl room has to be perfect. The most perfect room ever created. And I got nothin.
Well that is not true.
And believe me when I say nothing else will do. Everything else murders my eyeballs. Anyone who suggests that something else might work is risking my violent rage.
Anyone, like say, the Brunschwig rep who had a lengthy conversation with my tears today when he told me they had discontinued all lines by Paule Marrot.
Is responsible for the fabric with which I am so entranced- that is apparently not longer Brunschwig material.
I am completely aware that it is not normal or acceptable to have a psychotic break about a fabric. But telling myself to “get real” only further enrages the hormones so that is not an option.
What I need you all to do is to tell me you have 40 yards of this fabric just sitting in your garage that you want to give me and baby McC.
Or tell me something else amazing that I can do. And maybe come do it for me. I promise I will tell my hormones to play nice and not tell you everything you suggest is ugly.