Officially Giving up on Trying to Be Cool

I’ve always been a bit of a dork about home decorating. I love collecting magazines and catalogues (especially West Elm, Crate & Barrel and Pottery Barn) and am totally addicted to a few decorating blogs out there. I have a very particular aesthetic and I need things to be homey and soft so that you feel comfortable kicking off your shoes and snuggling.

I don’t like to just buy everything at one store though and tend to search around for awesome deals as they pop up. I also love to DIY my own projects – whether it be refinishing a side table from Goodwill or sewing pillows out of fancy napkins.

Although I’ve allowed myself to purchase and create a few things for the baby’s room, I’ve really held off on buying anything new for our house since we weren’t really sure where we would land. Not knowing the size of a future family room, means that it’s pretty stupid to spend time looking for that perfect ottoman.

Well, now that moving into our new home has become a reality, I’ve really stepped up to the next level of crazy and have gone into full-on decorating mode.

It might be partially because I’ve held off for so long, or it could be magnified by that pregnancy nesting thing, but I have been completely and totally fixated on our new house since the moment I first saw it (and took about 100 pictures).

My first obsession was to find the perfect rug for our new den. Now a normal person would look around to find a rug they liked, buy it and be done with the whole thing. Yeah, not me.

I found a rug that I LOVED on the West Elm website, however it was $250 which I felt was a bit much to pay for something you’re going to be walking on. I then spent a ridiculous amount of time on the internet searching for similar rugs. I mean hours upon hours of searching. On top of that, I made my husband go with me to outlets an hour away to check and see if they had anything we liked. I could think of nothing except my obsession for finding this perfect rug.

This isn’t normal, right?

Anyways, I finally found one that I loved almost as much as the original and it was only $120 with free shipping. So I ordered it, it came within a week or so, and I love it so much I want to kiss it and hug it and make sweet baby rugs with it (which I guess would be doormats…).

So, onto the next obsession – a really comfortable chair that will sit on this rug. In my imagination, I wanted an oversized leather “library-type” chair that I could snuggle up in to drink a cup of hot chocolate in front of the fireplace.  Everything I found online was so expensive, I just couldn’t justify spending that much money on just a chair. Finally, my husband and I went to a local store to check out their clearance center and holiday weekend sales. We probably sat on 50 different chairs (which is really difficult when you need someone’s help to get up each time) and found one that we both loved.

And it’s a recliner.

Yes, a recliner. Now, when I think of a recliner I think of my grandparent’s house. Everyone likes to sit on a recliner because it’s really comfy, but it’s so freaking ugly that you wouldn’t really want one in your own house. It’s like the moment that you give up and choose comfort over fashion.

Have I really reached this point? Should I pack away my high heels, get out an old scunchy and never bother with makeup again?

Now, granted this recliner is actually quite attractive – it’s big and fluffy and made out of black leather. I kind of love it, especially when I wake up in the middle of the night with bad acid reflux and need to fall asleep somewhere half-sitting up.

However, I still felt like I’d waddled past the sign that says “Over the Hill” into the “I Don’t Care Anymore” territory.

Well, I felt that way until I walked into the living room yesterday and saw my husband reclined in the chair with our dog lying on his stomach.

In that instant, I didn’t care anymore about whether a recliner was cool or not. All I could think was that in a few months my husband is going to be dozing in that chair with our baby on his chest. Not long after that, our baby will be a toddler and he’ll sit on our laps while we read him his bedtime story. A few years later, he may sit there all by himself… maybe with Potter beside him.

So, if I’ve officially taken my ‘old card’ by purchasing a comfy and not-so-cool recliner, I don’t care. Because I guess I AM kind of old now… I’m going to be somebody’s mother. And that’s scarier than all the scrunchies in the world.*

* Well, scary and awesome and terrifying all at the same time.