The day before my daughter was born in July 2014, my house was in the greatest state of disarray… ever. There was clean laundry weighing down a bulky drying rack in the living room and dirty laundry in piles and on bedroom surfaces upstairs — hoping for the next load to the washer. Dishes were piled high in the sink, pots and pans sat on the stovetop. The bathrooms were a mess. Small nesting projects to prepare for the baby (due in 5 weeks on that day) were left unfinished and abandoned everywhere you looked. Clutter abounded.
I was in too much pain to do anything, let alone tidy up. At the time I had no idea I had a rare and fatal pregnancy complication called HELLP Syndrome and that my body was shutting down. I didn’t know that day was probably my last on this earth had my husband not rushed home from work, called my OB, and taken me to the hospital. You see, I’m a Type A personality, and I am a lover of control. I’m stubborn, yes, but as I sat in the labor and delivery wing of the hospital trying to understand the gravity of my health, I was still saying “but the house is a MESS! We don’t have a car seat yet. This baby can’t be born now.” I begrudgingly relinquished my control to my Mom, sister and brother who stayed up into the wee hours of the morning cleaning the house to prepare for the baby. There were people in my completely blown-up home, and there was nothing I could do about it. There was a baby coming five weeks early, and there was nothing I could do about it. The eve of my child’s birth was when I started to learn to let go of control, and that moment forward changed the way I structured both my life and home.
When people become parents, these changes to your surroundings are often adjustments to having a tiny person crawling — and soon climbing — over everything. You learn as they grow how to “baby-proof,” or make a space work better for a little one. But the greater philosophical and emotional changes you endure are reflected in those home tweaks, too. The transition to parenthood is monumental, even earth-altering, for those who experience it. We’re suddenly responsible for another who is not us, and how could that growth not trickle down to the spaces in which we live?
Since that day in July and over the past almost three years, there’s a lot I’ve learned and changed about my design aesthetic and need for control — and I believe those two things are wholly connected. As I prepare to welcome my second child this summer, my new philosophies on home design are even more solidified. Here are some key methods and mantras I’ve picked up along the path of parenthood. —Kelli
We parents learn a lot from each other, so if you have any tips you’ve picked up for your own home, I’d love to hear them in the comments below!
A home is not a fixed state to aspire to, or a completed project. It ebbs and flows with the growth of your family. I love interior design, but how boring would it be if we “finished” a room and then were done with it? It seems as though I am changing something about my home’s spaces almost daily. I am constantly editing a room to help it perform to its highest function for our family — and you know what? Aspiring for function and organization is not a sacrifice of design or aesthetic. If anything, streamlining my home more and installing systems that help it function better only keep my home looking more beautiful, tidier, and more “us.” When I pare back the unnecessary to make room for what we truly need to live in our spaces, I can more clearly see the picture of what makes our family who we are. And when I redefine a room or an item’s purpose — which may not be something you’d see in a glossy design magazine — that’s okay, too. Is my soon-to-be-born-baby’s crib in our master bedroom? Yes. Is my work desk now a changing table? Yep. And eventually those things will change and move, but for now it’s exactly what my family needs.
Giving yourself grace is absolutely essential. Just as a room or home is never really finished in my eyes, we must give ourselves some slack when it comes to projects. Maybe your powder room has holes in the wall from a gallery installation you took down (mine does) — and you still haven’t spackled those nail marks yet. Maybe you have a stack of mail and other papers that never seems to whittle down, sitting on the kitchen table (I do). Maybe no matter where you look, you still see a kid’s or dog’s toy strewn here or there (or maybe several). Chances are, no one from Architectural Digest is about to bust down your door and photograph your home as-is. HGTV doesn’t have a camera crew on their way to your home. Take a deep breath; you’re raising a child, you’re doing your best, and you’re rocking it.
For me, less is more. Before we became parents, we had a ton of stuff. In classic packrat fashion, I held onto everything. Surfaces brimmed with decorative items because I felt like they all needed to be on display. Storage systems suffered from trying to contain unneeded things — like that playbill from a performance years ago. But once you become a parent and see the shear amount of STUFF a child needs — and once they start school, all the projects and mementos they bring home — you do that quick math and realize just how much you’ll likely accumulate over their lifetime. I have since made it a habit to routinely go through things, de-clutter, and donate.
I want inspiration to be everywhere you look. Children have brains that are rapidly growing, developing and absorbing life around them. In every room of my house I have at least one piece of art that is thought-provoking, or colorful, or outside of the box. And none of these things break the bank — they’re thrifted from flea markets, salvaged, photographed by family or handmade. I want to give little eyes something visual that takes their imagination on a journey.
I strive to cultivate a home where there is freedom to create, be comfortable and feel safe. The number one thing a child typically craves, at the end of the day, is to feel safe and loved. So I want my home to be a reflection of that. While there are rules in place, this is their home, too, so all furnishings and all rooms are welcoming to children — there isn’t an “off-limits” sitting room or anything like that. Instead of compromising on my personal style, I choose furniture and pieces that perform well with kids (and pets) and are made well. Sure, we have the staple workhorse IKEA pieces (bookshelves, dressers, my daughter’s bed), but items like rugs, couches, etc. are typically things we save for. In return for our higher investment, these pieces last much longer in the long run and, as a result, end up being “kid-friendly” and looking great. If my daughter wants to paint in the living room (on a big, old blanket to protect from spills) or build a castle in my master bedroom, she can follow her creativity wherever it takes her.
Baskets, baskets, and more baskets. I’m not the first person to laud the benefits of attractive organization, but I’m a diehard fan. I have a pretty basket in each room (two in my living room alone) that elevate each room’s design, but they actually corral clutter. A catchall basket at the foot of my stairs and in the master bedroom are particularly helpful in always keeping these spaces neat. The biggest game-changer came when I tucked a basket under each bedside table in the master bedroom. I’m sure most of us have clothing items that are in an undecided state of use — a shirt worn for just a few hours, or a go-to sweatshirt — that would usually end up on the floor or a chair until we send them to the laundry hamper. These baskets hold those things (and my slippers, my phone charger, etc.) and now we never have the piles-of-random-clothing-everywhere issue that so many of us seem to battle, but maybe don’t make public.
Celebrate who you are and all of your weirdness, because it will inspire your children to be unequivocally themselves without fear of judgement. When I was pregnant with my first child, I had a silly thought that I couldn’t keep my obscure art pieces in the house any longer — like my skull print below. I wondered, “do parents have skull imagery throughout the house?” to which I answered myself: “a parent can be anyone, there is no rulebook.” I have large, visible tattoos, and that doesn’t bother me in being a Mom, so why should the art I keep in the home worry me about the influence it has over my children? If we stop apologizing for who we are and all of the delightfully different things that make us up — and instead embrace these quirks — we become shining examples to our children and others of how to be confident in who we are, and no one else.
I am not Martha Stewart. Every once in a while I am bound to forget this truth. I go to bed some nights with a sink full of dishes, or baskets of folded laundry that never made it into the dresser, and I feel bad. But I am a working mother, and I am not perfect. However, I have the type of brain that is more at rest when I am in clean, tidy spaces. So to please my brain (and have some sense of control over my environment on busy days), I let the functional systems I’ve put in place do the work. Those baskets in each room are easily filled with a few steps around each space to pick up toys, books and other objects. Surfaces like tables, countertops and dressers remain neat because I previously pared down our belongings to quality items and cut out the clutter. A few minutes spent putting everything in its functional space leaves me with a comfortable home where my busy mind finds harmony.
The bottom line: At my core, I still want to have control over things in life, but I know that’s not realistic. To compromise, I arrange my home’s design to allow for a loss of control or the day-to-day mayhem of kids and life. That way, I don’t lose sleep over how my home looks, because it’s always a comfortable, creative space in which I share life with my loved ones. And if the place is blown at the end of the day, it’s nothing a few trusty baskets can’t fix.