Birthing Britto

Do you know Romero Britto?
You know Romero Britto.
He was the artist behind the piece that Jason Hoppy gave to Bethenny Frankel for their wedding.

Romero Britto.

He is a master at mixing patterns and colors and amusement. Much like my Grandma with her salvage quilting. So his style was a natural fit for Lincoln's nursery.

But an original commissioned Britto was not in the budget. I had to embrace Photoshop and make a version myself.

I had a large frame that I'd spray painted white and I made the image dimensions so it would fit inside. I printed it at FedEx Kinko's and paid extra to have it on foam board. There is no glass in the frame so having it on something sturdy made it much easier to handle and assemble.

Lincoln's robot bank was Britto inspired too. Which inspired Lincoln to make an entrance.

You see, we received a ceramic bank stuffed with cash from lovely friends at our baby shower. Complete with painting supplies. When my due date had come and all the projects were complete but no baby showed up, I got to work on the bank. Meticulously painting Britto styled details for the next six days.

It was an activity I could do in a chair.
With my feet up.
With Netflix automatically progressing through Morgan Spurlock's Inside Man episodes.

On the sixth night of painting
Of waiting for a baby
At about 11:00 pm
I finished my Romero Britto inspired robot bank.

About 5 hours later my next project started, Project have a baby.

Money.

Thanks Romero Britto.

Lincoln Nursery: Grandma's Quilt

 

Before I knew if I was having a Lincoln or a Sophia or a Mortimer or a Bernice, I knew that the heart of the nursery would be my grandma's red quilt top.

 

My grandma, so Lincoln's great grandma. This quilt top has seen some days. And it may or may not contain scraps of my grandpa's pajamas or a housecoat remnant from a woman at church, because that's how my grandma did it.

 

Made with love and thought and using every scrap.

 

The quilt face needed some seams reinforced. And it was evident that some of the fabrics were wearing thin.

 

Because someone had likely worn them thin as clothing. Pajama pants. Grandpa Peter. Maybe.

 

 

I chose a soft minky fabric for the quilt back and did straight line quilting to strengthen the integrity of the quilt. Stitching the ditch was a consideration, but the corners didn't match up so a "straight" line outline 1/4 inch on both sides of each square was the smoothest transition.

 



The binding: turquoise dots.

Creative
Loving
Kind

That's how I remember my Grandma. Those are the memories I want Lincoln snuggled up in on a cold night.

The fact that those gentle memories got to come in a collage of rad boisterous patterns? Priceless and Perfect.

The Lincoln Bedroom

Meet Lincoln. Our baby schatze.

 

He's almost 3 months now and, yes, I have been greedy in not sharing him with you. I've been busy.

 

Kissing cheeks

Rocking to sleep

Sitting and staring

Cheering for poop

And burps

Chasing smiles

Stifling worry

Embracing deliriousness

Filing away the sweet smell of baby

Being grateful. We're beyond grateful.

 

Lincoln is not greedy though. He said I can share his bedroom with you.

 

For now, just the sights.

 

  

 

 

The details about his sensory board, the quilt his great grandma made, custom shelves, club rocking chair and personalized room décor...those will come later.

And updates from Lincoln, they will continue later too.

Right now? Snuggle-thirty.

...beyond grateful.

:photos by Patchwork Photography

The Ultimate Client

I've been working for the ultimate client the past 9 months. He has afforded me complete control; total creative freedom. It has been a strenuous DIY tornado around here, but a dream.

But this flight of fancy ends any day now.
When I give birth to him.
And he makes his demands known.

Because we (including the keen eye and expertise of Mr. Schatze) only had design control. 

Of his nursery. 

And the rest of the house. 

That's it.

In the beginning of the pregnancy, I found myself wishing that I could control more. Just choose a few of his client attributes that I would be working with for the next lifetime of years. 

You know:

- perfect health

- wisdom

- empathy

- his father's affinity towards safety

The important things. 

But the more I thought about it, I realized it would be my worst fail yet. Taking this perfect little package and unknowingly stripping away his grandest future because of my selfish personal desires. Perfect health, what if that hospital time is meant to teach him unimaginable tenacity and grit? Wisdom - my greatest lessons have come from my most foolish moments, should he miss out on those? An affinity towards safety - what if that nail gun accident through the foot leads him to design the most successful work boot on the market?

You see my struggle.

So now we wait, without some forecast of our own expectations. 

Wait for the new 'perfect for us' client. 

Waiting in his nursery that we have poured love and Arizona summer sweat into in the hopes that he feels that love around him every night he's in it. And a little bit with the hopes that if he's speaking to his therapist at age 30 about his crazy parents and upbringing that the nursery can be an example of our first sign of love and effort. 

I think too much about his therapy.

But we are ready. As we'll ever be. And open. For this demanding tiny-for-a-flash client.

I want food.
I hate color. Can we make my room all white?
I want to take Judo.

  We've got this my love, no worries.

I want the hurt to go away. 
I hate my life.
I want you to leave me alone.

We've got this my love, no worries. Just give mama 20 minutes to a day alone in the bathroom with her cell phone so she can sob it out.

I look forward to sharing our completed projects soon. As well as our unpredictable new adventures. And all the lessons. And Baby Schatze.

I want to use the miter saw without safety glasses.

Not a chance in hell, my love.

.