I love a Pinterest-worthy kid’s bedroom as much as the next mom. I envision that someday my sweet children will learn to control their urges to body-slam themselves into walls, blow their noses into the closest pillow, and use the carpet as a back-scratcher. But the reality is that childhood is happening, and what’s in the latest Pottery Barn Kids catalog is anything but child-friendly.
I opened my most recent magazine to see a sunny bedroom, twin beds made up with plush superhero bedding. Between the two beds was a rustic wooden ladder leading up to a ledge, about 10 feet from the floor, where treasured hardcover books were conveniently (ahem) stored. This is laughable.
Just as precarious is a series of three floating shelves, the first starting just twelve inches off the floor, where books are arranged in rainbow-colored order with vintage toys used as bookends. (Can you stay staircase?) Why encourage broken bones and stitches? Plus, if you buy from Pottery Barn Kids, you will have no money left for those ER bills.
Pretty much anything can be monogrammed: beach towels, quilts, backpacks, Christmas stockings, lunch boxes, storage totes, pencil cases, even little upholstered chairs. For an up-charge, you can pick the color and font style. You can nail initials or your child’s first name to the wall (some of the letters are two feet tall!), I guess as a reminder of how awesome you are that you modified Riley to Ryleigh. The plastering of lettering on anything with a surface is out of control! Plus it means reselling or passing on the item is impossible.
3. Coordinating Everything
Does your little lady like butterflies? A bed skirt, accent pillow, sheet set, quilt, framed art, rug and four curtain panels that perfectly coordinate can be a dream come true. That is, if bankruptcy is your goal. That rug priced at $299, that’s for the 2-by-3 foot size—you know, the size of a doormat. Want one that looks like the picture? Pony up $1000. But hey, it has butterflies on it! Where is the creativity? My childhood room consisted of NKOTB posters on the walls, a super-old and comfortable pillow, and my eraser collection scattered all over the JCPenney rug.
4. The Toys
The children’s toys in the catalog—say, the kitchen set—are nicer than the set I own. You know, the appliances that actual cook and cool real food and work in a real kitchen? Yes, those wooden toy food sets are adorable, but $50 for a tea set (what are you, British?) that the kids will use as dodgeballs aimed at the living room windows isn’t my idea of a good time. The $59 dolls, with their fragile yarn hair and embroidered eyes, would make perfect candidates for the catapults my kids create from curtains. (See No. 5).
5. The Curtains
I don’t know what your kids use curtains for, but mine like to use them Tarzan style, or they like to hide in them when playing hide-and-seek, or they like to perform a one-person tug of war with the curtain rod bending unnaturally until it’s beyond fixing and the screws come out of the walls leaving gaping holes. And what’s with curtain sheers anyway? The darker the kid’s bedroom, the better.
Glowing white, everywhere. (I need my $20 Target sunglasses just to look at the pages of the catalog!) White anything and children do not mix. The catalog is full of white carpet and rugs, white furniture (even a white “craft” table, are you kidding me?), white bedding, white towels. Dear PBK, kids scratch mosquito bites relentlessly until they are oozing blood. Kids paint and draw. Kids use bedding and rugs as puke-catchers. Kids pee on the floor. Kids sneak past you with muddy shoes on their feet. I’m going for functional here!
7. The Product Models
The children lounging on monogrammed comfy chairs while reading hardcover classic books look they are vacationing in the Hamptons. They have smooth-styled hair, unblemished complexions with “naturally” rosy cheeks, dressed like they are about to step onto their toddler yachts to sip wine. Someone get those babies a PB&J (made in a real kitchen) and a mud puddle, stat! Childhood isn’t tidy or prim and proper.
I’m convinced all three of my kids will never idyllically sit in a sun-filled room with 20-foot ceilings and engage in a game of jacks while lounging on plush, snow-white carpet. They are too busy wrestling one another for the $3 light-up sword purchased from the dollar bins at Target. So moms, pretty pictures have their place, and for me, that place is the recycle bin.