Sitting in my closet, you will find this lovely Anthropologie ceramic egg crate. Although instead of finding a dozen Eggland's Best Grade A eggs, you'll find an assortment of otherwise flailing around earrings and bobby pins.
I can't take much credit for this ingenious idea. The instant a friend opened this exact bridal shower gift on Wednesday night my mind raced immediately back to something I had seen on my favorite of all blogs. And considering the jewelry atop my closet dresser looked like a scene from Twister, I knew it was high time I did something about it. Because (a) it looked unsightly, (b) it indirectly made my life chaotic, and (c) that movie scared me during my previous (see also: ongoing) fear of all things storms and I don't need those memories resurfacing anytime soon.
So, off to Anthro I went yesterday after work to make this $14.00 life-changer mine.
So says Andy Warhol. And so seems to be our situation as our new roommate blasts youtube sensation Rebecca Black's "Friday" hit each week to ring in another weekend. That's right, Cameron has officially moved in to our place here in Midlothian, Virginia. We've all been in and out since his pilgrammage down mid-July, but we're staring routine and daily life together in the face as Jeremiah and Cameron get ready to head to work in about a week. It's about time. This working during the summer stuff makes me ugly with jealousy. Other than the pressures of having food in the house constantly (which I'm failing miserably at) and needing to contribute weekly towards his quest of becoming an MVC at Kohls, so far so good.
No, we're actually not that famous. Our daughter has no relation to the Martha Stewart. The Martha Stewart who I just found out is 70 years old. Say what?! I don't believe it.
But even though we're not officially related, I think we could really fool some people with the just-as-good-if-not-better-than-Martha's work my mom and sister produce. They're so incredibly crafty and creative it's almost sickening. Usually I feel very sub-par to the two masterminds, always jealous of their attention to detail, patience, and magnificent end results. Luckily, this time around I was on the receiving end of their perfection and reaped every single benefit.
A couple weekends ago my mom and sister threw me (and the little lady on the way) my first baby shower. Woo hoo! It was a much-anticipated event for me, being that pregnancy hasn't really been what I expected. Namely, it hasn't felt real. I had high hopes that being surrounded by love, encouragement, and baby goodies (and my own swollen feet) would help it all sink in a little more. And it did. At least for a few hours.
Plan A was to have a backyard/garden shindig set amongst the summer foliage; however, mother nature threatened heavy with cloudy skies and high humidity. Fortunately, Plan B worked at wonderfully. Just a few steps away from my house was a delightfully air-conditioned room at my parents' church awaiting some decorative love. They took a p(l)ainfully bare room and made it pretty adorable.
Not one detail fell to the wayside. Pinwheel centerpieces. Coordinating fabrics and colors. Handsewn items. Real plates. Placecards. A freaking amazing cake (by none other than Chef Andria). Polka-dot and color-themed food. Delicious food. It was perfect I tell ya. Perfect. Unfortunately, my pregnancy brain was in full-force, as I failed to snap even one photo of the celebration. Kate Joyce, where were you?? Luckily, my dad tried his best to capture a few moments pre-shower and we even got a handful of me with some guests post-party. Enjoy!