I’ve recently discovered a Pandora station that Madelyn and I both like. It’s a station full of lullabies. Some are classics set to soothing music and others are modern or instrumental. I actually find myself listening to the station by myself sometimes, simply because it’s relaxing and pretty.

Once in a while, though, a song comes on that just baffles my mind. I had never paid attention to lullabies until becoming a mom, but many of them are ridiculous and even just downright wrong. Let’s examine some of them more closely:

Rock-a-bye baby, on the treetops, (WTF is a baby doing up in trees?! Whose idea was it to put her there?)
When the wind blows, the cradle will rock, (DUH! Cause and effect. Weather patterns like wind blowing is nothing novel)
When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall, (Oh shit.)
And down will come baby, cradle and all. (This is extremely upsetting and they don’t even bother to explain what happened to the baby after it fell. Do they just leave her there? Is she on the ground and screaming? Is she near traffic on a highway or is she in a pond near the wilderness? These questions are left unanswered and I seem to be the only one who’s concerned for the child’s welfare.)

Hush, little baby, don’t say a word, Papa’s gonna buy you a mockingbird. If you’re hushing the baby, a mockingbird is only going to make things noisy. Seems counterproductive to me.
And if that mockingbird don’t sing, Papa’s gonna buy you a diamond ring.DON’T SING, MOCKINGBIRD! FOR THE LOVE OF TIFFANY, DON’T SING!
And if that diamond ring turn brass, Papa’s gonna buy you a looking glass.That totally sucks. Going from a diamond ring to a mirror? That baby is getting cheated.
And if that looking glass gets broke, Papa’s gonna buy you a billy goat. “Broke” and “goat” don’t even rhyme, Papa. Nice try.
And if that billy goat don’t pull, Papa’s gonna buy you a cart and bull. Are you giving her a garage, too? Most children’s rooms don’t have room for a cart and bull. That’s bull, all right.
And if that cart and bull turn over, Papa’s gonna buy you a dog named Rover. I hope the bull is okay. And can’t we come up with a less cliche name for the dog?
And if that dog named Rover won’t bark. Papa’s gonna buy you a horse and cart. Again, “bark” and “cart” don’t rhyme. And didn’t we already learn our lesson from the cart and bull?
And if that horse and cart fall down, Well you’ll still be the sweetest little baby in town. Whoa, whoa, whoa. This implies that the baby might not have been cute? She needs the reassurance?

I giggle to myself when these tunes come on, but they make Madelyn happy and so I will continue to play the songs over and over again. That baby can keep rocking up in the trees and Papa can buy his kid whatever his heart desires as long as Madelyn smiles and sleeps, sleeps and smiles.

I’ve always loved interior design. I could watch home makeover shows or sift through decor magazines for hours. When I’m rich, I will spend money on dog rescue organizations, breast cancer philanthropies, and buy a few different homes to decorate. Hey, at least I listed the charitable work first!!

I’ve narrowed down the colors based on the crib bedding I picked out at Pottery Barn Baby. Looks like we’re going with a pink and green theme with splashes of creamy yellow. My decor taste tends to be feminine but not baby-ish (I know, I know, we’re having a baby, but no duckies or teddy bears for me). I like a more vintage and girly style so the odds and ends that fill up the room will probably be in that category.

Anyway, I’ve been daydreaming about decorating the baby’s nursery since we found out about the pregnancy. And now that it’s finally happening, I’m frozen in my tracks.

We can’t do much until we paint first. I had an idea in my head that we would paint the walls a light, butter yellow and toss in an accent color on the crib’s wall and paint it light pink. Easy enough, right?

So imagine my panic attack when I walked into the Lowes paint department and hyperventilated over the zillions of swatches that lined the walls. Choosing few handfuls of paint samples was like choosing which baby to save in a fire: the furry one or the human one. Painful! But, somehow, with my husband’s help and the opinion of the tattooed paint dude who was probably so over me, I walked out with 2 kinds of yellows and 4 kinds of pinks.

On Sunday, I braved the intimidation of painting the walls with the sample colors to see how they look in real life.

Verdict? I still dont know!! I kind of like them all in different ways. And it’s hard not to judge them based on their names. The first one that’s darker is called Pink Ruffle! I’m obsessed with both those words!! Pink is my favorite color and ruffle is how all my clothes should be adorned. And then there’s one called Baby Blush. I mean, isn’t that just too apropos?? How do I not read into the names and look at only the colors? It’s like going to the nail salon; I dare you to pick up an O.P.I. polish color and NOT read the punny name on the bottom of the bottle. Double dare you!

And Bryan and Princeton were of no help as I strategized the sample-paint job. They relaxed and made fun of me for agonizing over each hue.

No, no, I kid. Bryan was very helpful and gave his two cents for what worked and what didn’t. Princeton looked at me like, “What are you crazy? I’m colorblind, crazy, hormonal lady!”

For three of the walls, I think we’re going with Creamy Oat (again, reading into the name, but oats are gluten-free, so this is a healthy shade for a paint, right?), and the accent wall will be either Tea Rose or Baby Blush. I keep stressing about making the right choice and if it will look okay on such wide and high walls and if the bedding will match or will it be too matchy-matchy and will it go against the resale value of the house when we want to sell one day and then I start breathing heavily and breaking out into a sweat and wishing my unborn daughter could send me a sign about her color preference since, after all, it is her room…

…and then Bryan reminds me it’s just paint and it’s not permanent and we can always paint over it. True, yes, but then he’d probably want to kill me.

So, I think we’ll just go for it because apparently, when it comes to motherhood, that’s the name of the game.