I have a love/hate relationship with Pottery Barn Kids.
I love it. I pour over the pages and look at the absolutely stunning bedrooms and playrooms and Halloween-themed decorations and begin salivating. I long to grab my computer and spend thousands of dollars on stuff that I truly don't need.
I snap out of it. I look around at my house. I feel inadequate.
How are my kids supposed to grow up as happy, healthy, well-adjusted children without:
a) A crystal chandelier in their bedroom
b) A jumbo (four feet wide!) wall mounted paper roll for arts and crafts
c) A "Where the Wild Things Are" bed tent
d) A Halloween monogrammed chair backer (what the hell is this anyway?)
e) All of the above!
The pressure is mounting. Why do I want to answer "e"? Why am I letting this bother me?
I equate this feeling to when I look through my beauty magazines at all the skinny, perfect models. Then I look down to my belly where the crumbs of the pretzels I was just housing have gently found a new home.
I know that the models or, in this case, the beautifully staged rooms are not real life. Usually. But it still brings me down.
Which is why I also HATE the Pottery Barn Kids catalog.
But just when I was about to give into my mounting feelings of inadequacy I turned the page to reveal a beautiful, and I mean BEAUTIFUL, nursery.
It was done in predominately cream and light khaki. And then I laughed my a** off.
That was the worst idea I've ever seen.
Yeah, at first your baby may just spit up milk, but what happens when they spitting up real foods like sweet potato and peas. That sh*t does not come out. It STAINS.
I had a moment of clarity. The evil people bringing us the catalog are definitely designers, but they are definitely NOT parents.
I feel a little better, for now.
Until Pottery Barn Kids Winter 2012 arrives and I have a whole new set of unwanted feelings related to being Jewish, but I've already given you a glimpse into that crazy world.
Just looking at this picture brings a tear to my eye.