I read a ton of decor blogs. Even when I was "on hiatus" I always kept up with my reading. (Thank you Ipad and victory lap.)
Wait...what's a victory lap you ask...it's what we call that sweet hour and a half after your toddler goes to bed and your household chores are done. During the Victory Lap you get to do what you want to do before you are too exhausted to move.
Anyway....
I was reading one of my favorite decor blogs the other day and the author and her husband had just finished remodeling their bathroom. In one of the "after" beauty shots I spotted a vintage step stool, carefully refinished and distressed. Knowing they are about a year out from adopting their first child, I know exactly why she placed that step there - it is a sink/potty step for their anticipated little one.
Then I laughed.
A lot.
Out loud.
In public.
Long time readers will remember that I did the exact.same.thing while preparing for the bub. (You can read all about it here.)
The brutal reality is that kids come with a ton of plastic stuff. This can be quite distressing (hee hee) to someone who loves vintage from the very depths of her soul. I was convinced I would make it work. Everyone tried to warn me but I knew I would not need that $10 plastic potty stool with the grippers and the handle from Toys R Us.
Because it is UGLY.
Besides, people lived for hundreds, if not thousands, of years with little wooden step stools. I had one. I even had a hand made wooden booster chair for heavens sakes. Seriously. So Jack came home and I held on to my steadfast vision that I would make this work.
So what if the stool was a little too tall for the potty and there was pee everywhere - all over my beautiful bead board wainscotting.
And so what if my husband would complain helpfully note, that you really had to hold the stool with your feet while at the sink because it was slippery on the tile floor. Well I solved that with some of those gripper dots.
Not really.
Someone slipped and hit his nose on the sink. It was horrible. Really horrible. Like a crime scene.
I bought the ugly plastic stool.
But lest you think it is all sadness and woe in my house, there are many things that come along with a toddler that are much better than all that plastic, like all of the learning and the hugs and the bedtime stories. And of course, there is now an unending supply of emmies in my house.
I suppose grown folks call them M&Ms but in my house it's emmies. They are prized, hoarded, the numero uno currency. Nothing motivates someone to do an unwanted task like the promise of a few emmies. This covers every single member of my household.
Except for the cats.
I hear cats aren't huge chocolate fans.
This leads me to a problem. We have an unending supply of emmies in my house and an entire unrestricted victory lap in which to eat them.
So I put them up high.
Which was OK until started the complete overhaul I mentioned in my last post. Now my cupboards are so clean that those emmies sit up there and beckon to me night after night.
Why aren't carrot sticks the preferred currency??
