What A Difference a Year Makes

Today is my 31st birthday.

A year ago, I was turning 30, and ready to embrace all of the amazing things this new decade in my life would hold.

Until life had other plans, and my 30th birthday did not go as planned.

Unfortunately, this was just a preview into the way the rest of the year would go as my husband searched for a new job, we sold our house, we moved 10 hours away from Richmond and made a temporary home in a 2 bedroom apartment. None of it was easy; the job search was a disaster, our house unexpectedly sold in 3 days, leaving Richmond and my job was much harder than any of us thought it would be, and our move turned out to be a move from hell. One for the books, really.

The past year was a lot more about surviving than living, and when you are struggling just to SURVIVE, it’s hard to remember to write about living. Because trying to get through each day isn’t the same as enjoying and reflecting on each day. 

In the midst of it all I was pregnant, and I felt guilty about not ever writing about this pregnancy. But pregnancy takes a toll on you emotionally and physically in ways you can’t really describe. I didn’t write about this pregnancy because I didn’t have time to focus on it in the midst of our entire lives changing. And it’s strange to talk about pregnancy after a miscarriage because instead of a celebration it feels like a secret you have to protect. And for me, the trauma of my first pregnancy bleed so strongly into this one that I couldn’t tell where one stopped and the other began. Five years apart and still emotionally scarred, I didn’t feel like writing about the deepest fears and secrets of my motherhood, or admitting how much I hate being pregnant even though I know I lucky I am to get to carry my children.

So I dropped the blog and lost some freelance work (bad move) and let the laundry and the dishes pile up and in the midst of every single faucet of my life changing in the past year, I simply survived it. Every day.

I didn’t write during the year of my life that had the best stories. And maybe that was a mistake, but telling stories about fear and things going wrong and changing every day don’t feel like stories, that feels like complaining. It didn’t feel worth it to document months worths of complaints.

But today, I am in a much different place than I was a year ago. We sold our home. We moved to GA. I stopped working and let go of my usually stringent to-do lists. My husband started a new job. My son started a new school. We are making due with a 2 bedroom apartment. My oldest turned 5. I survived my pregnancy and my delivery and we have a beautiful one month old baby boy. And for every second that I hated my pregnancy I am loving every second of being a new mommy, and getting to be a mommy again has been indescribably healing. Though I hope to try to describe it, because it’s much easier to reflect and tell a story than it is to narrate while you are in the middle of it.

Thirty is over. One of my dear friends texted me today and said her money is on 31. Mine too, sweet friend. I’m ready to take it back. Because as much as I hated the last year of my life and as much as my life is not perfect right now, I am, in this moment, completely in love with it. All of it.

I celebrated turning 31 by taking my baby to the doctor for his one month appointment where I learned that he is already 12 pounds, 2 ounces, and in the 95th percentile! Then I took the time to put on make up and do my hair (a luxury for new mommies.) My husband and son bought me beautiful flowers and my 5 year old drew me the sweetest card. We attempted our first dinner out as a family and made it a full 45 minutes before the littles had to go home. My 31st birthday was uneventful and completely child focused and absolutely perfect.

Here’s to 31. This is going to be a good year.

 

 

Ranging Emotions

We are down to just 6 days before we make the big move from Richmond, VA to Athens, GA.

My son and I are busy crossing off our Richmond bucket list and my husband is finishing his last days of residency.

Every morning my son and I are doing activities around Richmond and seeing friends while my husband works, and every afternoon we are all working on packing up the house.

One afternoon my husband came home not talking, and I was sulking. Our son was running around with enthusiasm saying “Yay, it’s almost moving day!”

“What’s up?” I asked my quietly brooding husband. “I’m really stressed,” answered, an honest and vulnerable answer for a man who never gets stressed (or at least never admits to it.)

“And you?” he asked, already knowing my answer. My emotions have always been transparent. “I’m just really sad,” I said, and started to cry, because lately there’s nothing that doesn’t make me cry. The combination of making a big move, leaving the city and friends that I love and being 6 1/2 months pregnant all at the same time has resulted in me crying on a daily basis.

“Mommy, stop crying!” our four year old said as he continued to gallop around the living room. “This is so exciting! I can’t wait to move to GA!”

“Well,” I said, “at least one of us is happy! Daddy is stressed, Mommy is sad, and Noah is excited.”

And there we were in the midst of boxes and transitions and endings and beginnings and all feeling differently about where we were.

In that moment, as in so many moments of my life, I was incredibly thankful for the blind enthusiasm of my son for adding one more dynamic to our little family. A ray of sunshine in our modes of stressed and sad, our little boy is so excited for our new adventure. Maybe it will be ok after all.

excited boy

Home

It’s midnight and I could sit awake for hours in the quiet of this dark and contemplate this house.

front of house

The floors that shine under the light of the lamp illuminating where my son took his first steps and where busy plays and only night brings rest.

livingroom 2

I’ve memorized how the light shines in the living room window; the way it streams in through my son’s window at it’s rise and how it floods in through the downstairs bathroom window at it’s set.

Noah room

downstairs bath

I know this house.

dining room

I’ve loved it since the very first time we walked into it. And oh was there drama to get into it oh has there been drama to get out. But oh how I have loved BEING HERE.

kitchen 3

 

master bedroom 2

 

back yard

We’ve grown here and fallen apart here and loved and laughed and dreamed and danced and learned that our next house must have a walk in shower just like this one, but we need a bigger bath tub.

upstairs bath

 

And that we love the unique features and character of this older home but maybe our next house could have less creaky stairs.

 

nook

 

stairwell

There was always going to be a next time. Forever wasn’t here but that doesn’t mean here didn’t hold a piece of forever.

upstairs hallway

guest room

My son wants to take the seahorse light pull from the downstairs bathroom. “So I can always have a piece of our first house, Mommy.” Yes, of course you can, I told him, and together we cut the string.

He feels the pull here, too; his only home. The only house we’ve ever owned. The longest my husband or I have lived anywhere since we both left our parents homes when we were 18.

playroom office

We’ll take pieces with us too; pictures and memories and 4 years of our lives bound into the pieces of this house that I wonder if I’ll ever stop thinking of as “home.”

outside front

Back to the Present

January, February, and March were lost to sickness and April was lost to stress, then May was lost to arranging our new lives.

I was so terrible about blogging about all of it, but honestly all it would have been would have been post after post of complaints and questions and I’m sure no one wants to read that. I also hope that years later when I look back at these times I will be thankful I did not type out the ramblings of my very-stressed-for-months-mind.

After we finally had a job secured, I began the daunting task of researching EVERYTHING else. Where would my son go to school next year? Where would we live? Who would be my new care provider when I switched doctors in the middle of a pregnancy? What hospital would I deliver at? What are the logistics of this move? How are we moving? What are the details of my husband’s job? What about insurance? We need to set up new utilities, find new family friendly things in our new town, figure out how to change everything about our lives. In the midst of dealing with selling our current home and being pregnant. And, you know, still live our lives here in Richmond in the mean time.

So, in May, we dealt with all of it. Tons of paperwork for the new job. Sleepless nights of research online. More tension and stress. The end of a school year. The end of my job at Richmondmom.com. (Speaking of, want to know how we sold our house in three days? I wrote about it here.) Continuing to negotiate on the sale of our home. Lots of phone calls to a lot of different people about a lot of different things. One more month of night shifts for my husband.

We had one weekend to go house hunting and were actually looking forward to a mini vacation in the midst of everything. We are moving back to the town where we went to college, so we were very excited to show our son all about where Mommy and Daddy went to school and where his new home would be. Have you ever been house hunting with a four year old? Turns out they aren’t all that interested. We toured 10 properties that weekend ranging from rentals to apartments to homes to buy. We had an exhausted and bored little one and it turned out he really didn’t care when we drove through campus and said “Daddy used to take a class in that building!” or “That’s where Mommy used to teach!” or “Mommy and Daddy used to go on dates there!” We got nothing but blank stares and I’m pretty sure the four year old version of an exasperated sigh and an eye roll.

Smile! We're having fun on this house hunt!

Smile! We’re having fun on this house hunt!

In the end, we hated all of the rental houses, found one apartment complex that we liked, and found one house that we LOVED for sale. We left with no definite answer and tried to decide between the house and the apartment. Which also meant deciding between schools and grade levels. Apparently in Athens, there’s one really great elementary school everyone sends their kids to or you do private school. (Or you can live in a county about 20 minutes outside the city.) I am a huge advocate of public education, but getting our son into a school district meant buying a house which we weren’t sure we were ready for in a one weekend house hunt spree. We were also trying to decide between one more year of pre-K or sending my son to Kindergarten. His birthday is September 1st, which is the cut off for school enrollment in GA, so he could either be the VERY OLDEST or the VERY YOUNGEST in his grade. We really hated to spend the money for one more year of pre-school, but Georgia has a lottery funded (free) full day pre-K program that is hard to get into. We had missed the registration by a long shot since it was in February, so we ultimately decided we’d pony up the money for private school if we had to, and go with one more year of pre-K since my son’s birthday is right on the cut off for enrollment.

The day after we got back from our house hunt we found out the gender of baby number two and put together a big gender reveal. My brother said he was more impressed with our ability to put a huge event together right after coming back from out of town than anything else, which made me incredibly happy. I love validation. :)

Lots of talks and number crunching and only a little bit of fighting later, my husband and I decided to sign a lease at the apartment and keep our eye on the house that we loved. Then, with the wonderful resource of Facebook and social networking I found a GA Lottery Pre-K program near the apartments with fantastic reviews that had one spot left! (We snagged it.) Through a lot of research I found a new care provider for my pregnancy and a lead on a new pediatrician. I even found and signed a contract with a newborn photographer. My husband lined up the moving logistics (because honestly I could not handle one. more. thing.) and I scheduled the cancellation of our house utilities and the installation of our apartment utilities. All of this is organized in a very lovely notebook with tabs clearly labeled for each section of life. I love organization. And labels.

At the end of May I tearfully made it through my son’s preschool graduation and then…that was it.

Cutest pre-K graduate ever.

Cutest pre-K graduate ever.

 

Family picture at graduation. So proud of my little one.

Family picture at graduation. So proud of my little one.

We had survived. There was finally a break in the storm and during the last week of May (besides one more day of getting the house spotless for our appraisal and the appraisal itself) I could breathe. My son and I did a whole lot of nothing and actually just lazed about the house which was glorious and necessary all at once.

June came and my son did a summer camp at his preschool. I was teary on his last day as I realized it was the very last time I would ever make the drive from our house to the little school we have loved for three years. And I was sad as I used my last week of mornings alone for coffee dates with friends and my last pre-natal appointment in Richmond. My sweet friends threw a baby sprinkle for me and the newest little one. My son and I enjoyed more house time and there has been lots of packing and more getting organized and set up for our new future. I started a Richmond bucket list and we are slowly crossing through each item in the weeks leading up to the big move.

And now here I am at almost 25 weeks pregnant, surrounded by boxes cluttering my house and finally, FINALLY feeling some sort of peace. Because this is sad. And hard. But things are in place for our next chapter and once we get there it is going to be great. Because it has to be.

 

 

Scavenger Hunt Gender Reveal

I can’t believe I’m already half-way through this pregnancy. With everything that has been going on in our lives, I have barely had time to focus on it.

Despite the busy-ness, 20 weeks came and so did the ultrasound to see if baby was healthy and, of course, whether it is a boy or a girl.

Our oldest is 4 1/2 and I really wanted the gender reveal to be special for him. On the day of the ultrasound, my husband and I dropped my son off at school and headed to the appointment. Where we discovered that everything was healthy (a very different reveal from my first pregnancy) and that the baby is a……….(you will just have to read this post to find out. :) )

My husband and I spent the rest of the day frantically getting our elaborate gender reveal together before we picked my son up from school and then we gave him his first clue:

The first scavenger hunt clue we gave to my son in the car on the way home from school.

The first scavenger hunt clue we gave to my son in the car on the way home from school.

The second clue on the front door.

The second clue on the front door.

Third clue in the bath.

Third clue in the bath.

This one was on the oven.

This one was on the oven.

The next clue was above his bed...

The next clue was above his bed…

A close up version.

A close up version.

The next clue hiding under the dining room table.

The next clue hiding under the dining room table.

Another clue behind the clock.

Another clue behind the clock.

Which led us back upstairs to find another clue and a book!

Which led us back upstairs to find another clue and a book!

The book

The book

The clue close up.

The clue close up.

The next clue by the toys. (Ignore the mess.)

The next clue by the toys. (Ignore the mess.)

Close up clue leading outside...

Close up clue leading outside…

The outside clue...

The outside clue…

baby gender reveal! 024

Leading to a tree...

Leading to a tree…

Which led to the most important clue of all...

Which led to the most important clue of all…

Hanging from the swing set was a big balloon...

Hanging from the swing set was a big balloon…

baby gender reveal! 029

baby gender reveal! 009

Here it is, the big reveal....

Here it is, the big reveal….

The confetti is BLUE!

The confetti is BLUE!

It's a BOY!

It’s a BOY!

Hurray! A baby brother!!

Hurray! A baby brother!!

After the balloon pop there were two more clues....one revealing a yummy treat,

After the balloon pop there were two more clues….one revealing a yummy treat,
Our BLUE cupcakes for a BOY!

Our BLUE cupcakes for a BOY!

And one telling our son how much we love him.

And one telling our son how much we love him.

Someone is a very excited big brother! Mommy at 20 weeks with baby number 2.

Someone is a very excited big brother! Mommy at 20 weeks with baby number 2.

Our gender reveal started as a nursery rhyme scavenger hunt, but turned more personal as I made the rhymes fit for our house and family. I LOVE the balloon pop part, which I ordered in this cute little kit from Etsy:

Balloon Pop gender reveal kit from Etsy.

Balloon Pop gender reveal kit from Etsy. It came with confetti for a boy or a girl.

I loved our gender reveal and we all had a great time going around the house searching for clues and finding out it was a BOY with the blue confetti. The cupcake part was pretty delicious, too.

What do you think of our gender reveal? Have you seen other gender reveals you just love?

This Too Shall Pass

Life tends to come in waves here. I sometimes find myself bored with the monotony that can occur when your job description is “Mommy,” an all encompassing word that means you do everything and seemingly nothing all at the same time.

But since the fall, the calm of monotony was abruptly disrupted and has been replaced with wave after wave of life. BIG LIFE. Life changing waves that will not stop crashing, leaving me wondering when I will once again be able to take a breathe.

After my miscarriage on my 30th birthday, which, in itself seems a story fit to be written in the pages of a heart wrenching novel, life charged forward with another maybe-kind-of miscarriage in November. We didn’t tell anyone about it. It was a positive pregnancy test one day and bleeding the next. The doctors called it a chemical pregnancy. It may not have even been real.

December came with it’s wave of Christmas cheer and blur of busy as I once again held a lead role in the Broadway style Christmas production at church and we celebrated all of the things that go on with having a 4 year old in Pre-K around the holidays. We traveled to GA to see family and survived more months of nights as my husband continued to trudge through his Anesthesiology Residency.

 

My last GCN performance.

My last GCN performance.

In January, we were met with snow and sickness. Snow that just wouldn’t stop, and my son only attended school for 4 days the entire month. I wanted to be positive about it, but it was completely valid to be going stir crazy with a little one and snow that was too cold and ice-y to even enjoy playing outside in.

january 2013 017

Well, we played a little. :)

 

This too shall pass.

Then I got sick. Very sick. Couldn’t-move-off-the-couch-throwing-up-at-all-hours-of-the-day sick.

A few pregnancy tests later would confirm what I already knew…I was pregnant.

But I was skeptical. I wasn’t sure if it was real and I definitely wasn’t excited since this time it seemed being pregnant meant being dysfunctional.

I gave my husband a positive pregnancy test in a gift bag for Valentine’s Day (and some other stuff too, don’t worry I didn’t just give him a pee stick) and we both were tentatively excited.

At my doctor appointment in late February they confirmed that there was a little baby in there; measuring about 8 weeks. I was given Zofran to try to stop the severe nausea. It helped, but put me in a zombie like state of sleep and no energy. So my choices were throw up all day or lay on the couch like a zombie all day. My son was raised by the TV for about three months and our house was in such a state of disarray that I truly wondered if burning it down and starting over would’ve been an easier solution than somehow figuring out how to clean it up.

This too shall pass.

We told my family and called my husband’s family. “Don’t tell Noah!” My son knew Mommy was sick, but he didn’t know why, and I wanted to make VERY certain that this baby was a sure thing before we told our sweet four year old that he would be a big brother.

My mother-in-law wanted to come up for a visit.

You can, we told her, but the house does not look like it normally does (I never allow company over if my house is not spotless) and you can not wear any perfume or wear anything smelly.

The smell of EVERYTHING made me sick. I couldn’t even stand the smell of our own laundry detergent; we had to re-wash every single article of clothing we owned just so I could get dressed. (All Free and Clear to the rescue!)

“I’m sure the house isn’t that bad,” my mother in law said, until she actually arrived at our house and discovered it was WORSE. “Well,” she said, “it certainly does look different.”

It looked like an episode from Hoarders.

This too shall pass.

My mother-in-law stayed for a week and entertained my TV brainwashed son and did a million loads of laundry and helped with dishes.  She dug us out of a hole I’m not sure I ever would have been able to climb out of.

And then, I started feeling better.

It was the week after my mother in law left that one day, the sun decided to shine.

And my body decided to cooperate.

And for the first time in months, I felt human again.

We even told our sweet little boy that he was going to be a big brother…and he was THRILLED!

Look Whoo's Going to Be A Big Brother!

Look Whoo’s Going to Be A Big Brother!

This too shall pass.

Residency is over in June. So, no matter what, we are starting a new chapter in our lives this summer. My husband began his job search in December, and much to our dismay by March we still had no job. In the midst of my severe sickness my husband finally started getting interviews and was out of town in between weeks of nights. Despite my strong desire to stay in Richmond, there were no available jobs. My husband has always wanted to go back to GA (where we grew up) so most of his interviews were focused there.

We knew we couldn’t stay in Richmond without a job, so we worked diligently to get our house ready to put on the market. Somehow in between severe morning sickness, a traveling and working nights husband, and juggling the care of a 4 year old, our house became not just clean, but also market ready. Surely we would have a job by April, we assumed, and we went about hiring a handy man and a yard crew, renting a POD, and packing and loading and cleaning and meeting with our real estate agent.

April came and we did not have a job. But we had a schedule, and a deadline to get the house on the market if we wanted to really attract the buyers coming in for spring, and a hope that a job offer would come in before our house went under contract. Putting your house on the market doesn’t mean selling it, right?

Our beautiful home.

Our beautiful home.

This too shall pass.

Except it did sell. In three days. We put our house on the market on Friday, April 11th. We had 5 showings, two offers and were under contract by Monday, April 14th at noon. Whose house sells in three days??

But it was not without some drama. Our first offer came in Saturday night, after only one day on the market, for just under full listing price. “You won’t get a better deal than this,” our real estate agent told us. She really wanted us to take it. The bottom line was that it was all just moving too quickly. I didn’t want to sell our house, or leave Richmond, and we did not have a plan of where we were going next. It’s hard to jump when you don’t know where you are landing.

We told our agent we wouldn’t sign anything until Monday and then a second offer came in Sunday night. For more money and a later closing date. It was obviously a better offer for us, but the agents felt we should have gone with the first offer and there was some talk about us being under a “verbal agreement” and making an “ethical decision.” I was guilt ridden and felt pressured and didn’t want to sell our cute little house in the first place. And my husband certainly got the brunt of that emotional meltdown from me.

We did wind up taking the second offer and were under contract by Monday. And that was it. Our home was under contract. We had no job. We were on track to be jobless and homeless at the end of June with two kids. I don’t know the dates, but I do know that there was a day when my husband and I got into a HUGE fight in front of our son. The tension level at our house was so indescribably high and the great unknowns of our future were so looming that it was almost unbearable.

This too shall pass.

A job offer would FINALLY come in on April 22nd. We were elated. It was an AMAZING offer in Atlanta, GA. We finally could feel at peace with what was coming next, even though I was still holding so tightly onto where we are now.

Then, the week where our life status changed every day happened.

On Monday, April 28th, the Atlanta job rescinded the offer. We were back to being on track for jobless and homeless at the end of June. I was a complete disaster. And, as we have come to find out, rescinded job offers? NEVER happen in the field of medicine. We were at a complete loss. On Tuesday, a job in Athens, GA offered a possible part time opportunity. We didn’t know if we could make it work financially, but we were considering it. On Wednesday, April 30th, the Athens job said they may be able to make a full time offer. On Thursday, May 1st, the Athens job officially extended a full time offer in writing and we took it. Because at this point, we simply needed a plan. Shortly after, the Atlanta job called and said there was still a possibility my husband could get that job if he would just wait….I am so proud of him for interrupting and saying that he was no longer interested.

By Friday, May 2nd, we had started paperwork for the Athens, GA job and finally, FINALLY felt that all of the pieces were coming together.

This too shall pass.

As it turns out, juggling a pregnancy, a four year old, church obligations, a new job, selling a house, trying to find a new house, finding a new school for my son, researching a new care provider to switch to in the middle of a pregnancy, doing an opera (yes, I added an opera in there), keeping up with freelance writing, my job for Richmondmom.com and real life (damn you laundry!) is simply insane. I do not think it is wise to change EVERY SINGLE THING ABOUT YOUR LIFE ALL AT THE SAME TIME.

This too shall pass. There will soon be a time of calm. There has to be.

But now, right at this moment, we are still stuck in the midst of the waves, just trying not to drown.

 

 

 

 

 

 

An Old Conversation Worth Telling

Oh my gosh, I have been looking for this for two years. TWO YEARS!

Two years ago, my son and I had this sweet conversation.

And I wrote it down specifically so I could blog about it.

Today, I am doing some Spring Cleaning (because it’s officially SPRING…squee!) Even the weather is cooperating. And it’s supposed to snow again next week. I don’t want to talk about how upset I’m going to be.

Anyway, under the filing cabinet and covered in dust I found the piece of paper I scribbled this conversation down on, and now I have to blog about it.

September 15, 2012 (My son was 3 years old at this time.)

Noah: “Oh, it looks like I have a baby in my belly because I ate so much food!”

“I’m gonna grow a baby in my belly for me to kiss and love and sleep with in my very own bed.”

Me: “Aw, that’s what Mommy did! I grew a baby in my belly for me to kiss and love and sleep with in my very own bed and it was you!”

Noah: “Yeah, and then I will eat lots of food and grow a baby in my belly and then the doctors will make a big cut in my tummy and then the baby will come out of my bottom and I will cuddle it and sleep with it in my very own bed and hold it all the day.”

Me: “That’s so sweet, Noah. How are you a little person now?”

Noah: “Because I AM a little person. Mommy, you are so funny. You know lots of little persons.”

Me: “You are my favorite little person.”

Gah, three year olds. So cute. Also, this kid has been talking about wanting a baby since he was three.

Happy weekend and Happy SPRING!

Julia's Phone Pictures 021

 

Taken on September 15, 2012. Noah, the baby-wanter, 3 years old.

 

The Missing Wallet on Richmondmom

I have been a mess lately.

Not in any sort of good way.

In the I’m-sick-my-husband’s-out-of-town-I-don’t-even-have-clean-pants way. You would die if you saw my laundry pile.

And then, I lost my wallet.

Please join me at Richmondmom.com where I let you in on the behind-the-scenes of my current life and make you smile with a story of a good deed.

See you there! 

About Marriage

“When I was younger, I wanted to be married so badly. I wanted the companionship, the family, the love. I wanted lazy Sundays in bed and long walks. I wanted gazing into each other’s eyes and secret smiles and laughter.

I wanted a movie scene.

The problem is that movie scene portrayals of relationships are NOT REAL. Who knew?

My husband and I got married when we were both 23, a retrospectively young age to commit to be with another person for the rest of your life. We had an amazing dream wedding, an equally magnificent honeymoon, and then we returned home for real life.

We were terrible at it…..”

Today, I am sharing some tough stuff about my marriage and letting you in on a little secret….marriage is HARD WORK.

I am honored to have a guest post on Kludgy Mom sharing a post: My Marriage Is Not My Masterpiece…And Why That’s OK. 

I would LOVE to hear your thoughts. Click here to read the rest of the post. I can’t wait to read your comments with your own marriage experiences.

See you there! xo

Redecorating with Wall Art from Minted.com

Yesterday, the weather was gorgeous. My son and I actually got to spend some time outside and take a neighborhood walk, which was such a welcome reprieve from the cold snowy winter we’ve had.

And then, today, it snowed. Again. This time, starting early in the morning and it hasn’t stopped!

Stuck inside again all day, I’ve started to mentally redecorate this house. I love our home, usually, when it’s clean and we are free to come and go and not stuck in it every single second of every single day. But lately, I’ve just felt like the walls are closing in om me and I’m just so tired of the same old look we have going on in this house.

Since I’m quickly growing tired of my scenery, I was thrilled when Minted.com reached out and asked if I’d like to do a post about their new wall art. I immediately jumped at the opportunity. I am a HUGE fan of Minted, especially their stationery and party decor. And now they have just introduced the most adorable collection of wall art.

How cute would this vintage inspired print be in a kitchen?

I love the modern print and black and white contrast of this print.

And how sweet would this be for a patriotic themed little boy’s room or nursery?

I also kind of love this playful chair print for a powder room.

The best part is, Minted’s limited collection of art prints starts at only $25, making it affordable for anyone’s price range.

You can order the prints with or without frames. I personally would go with the frame, so you have a ready to hang piece of art delivered directly to your door. Who wouldn’t be over the moon excited about that?

These prints would be perfect for personal redecorating or would make great gifts.

With styles ranging from traditional to contemporary, there is sure to be a print from Minted that you will fall in love with.

I would love to know; what Minted print will you chose for your home?

*I was offered a Minted credit in exchange for this post. All opinions are my own. And I am totally going to use it to redecorate this house.*