By the time we found out I was pregnant- I had spent a decade cultivating an interior style that was anything but baby friendly.
Fragile natural history preservations in glass domes, original oil paintings and signed lithographs, and dry clean only blankets were just the start. Our house? Was a 1,200 sq ft loft I had built in a commercial building. A single bedroom with studio-style shared space that provided no privacy.
The thought of adding a baby to the mix was overwhelming. I had built this home newly divorced- and never intended on sharing it with anyone. But in a very short time came my husband, a third cat, and a cairn terrier.
And now a baby.
Cats taught me not to get too attached to anything left out on the 19th century buffet. And potty training a puppy taught me you can do a pretty good job cleaning up a 1930s Turkish carpet. But as the arrival date grew closer, my anxiety grew.
There was just too much for a baby to get into.
My in-laws and veteran-parent friends didn’t help.
After months of “You know, when the baby gets here, you won’t be able to…”- I was over it. We had done our best to clear a corner of our living room for the diaper changing table (a wooden box anchored to an antique side table) and a free crib from Facebook Marketplace. I reluctantly donated a shelf full of books to make room for two baskets of toys.
But the antiques? They never left.
Boundaries Have Benefits.
Fact: Children are crazy.
Our toddler contrives chaos in the name of experimentation every day. Like living with an unpredictable-but-charming frat boy, I’ve found soy sauce packets in my boots one day and dog shit in his pockets the next.
But that’s part of the learning process. Even more- it’s a learning experience every child goes through.
While you can’t control what your child wants to learn and when- you can control the laboratory which these experiments take place. When faced with these two options:
A: Baby learning a glass table is not for climbing on at home…
Or
B: Baby learning a glass table is not for climbing on at my friend’s childfree-home…
I’ll choose “A” every time. Why? I’d rather our kid break my stuff in our house instead of someone else’s.
Our home now, a two-story Victorian from 1904, is not baby proof. We have no gates, no outlet covers, and plenty of readily available hazards. But teaching and normalizing ground rules like
- Don’t play with open outlets
- Only take out books that are yours
- And don’t go up/down stairs without a grownup
Means a huge step towards safety and sanity when visiting high-risk spaces like museums, grocery stores, and friends’ homes.
The truth is this: Your baby will learn to break things somewhere.
Whether or not you decide to pack away your antique finds while setting up the nursery, your new baby is going to learn that glass breaks, phone chargers flush, and markers draw just as well on paper as they do on vintage wallpaper.
While I can’t guarantee a tear-free toddler (or your own tear-free clean-up of that vintage vase that just hit the floor)- I can give you some peace of mind from someone living with a 36” natural disaster in a home of antiques.
Philosophy #1: Things Can Be Replaced- People Can’t.
This comes straight from my father.
While he didn’t raise his daughters in a house of Gio Ponti, the embarrassing truth is I was a very, very clumsy child.
At the age of three, I broke up a set of wedding crystal knocking a glass of red wine on the beige carpet of their apartment.
“Things can be replaced- people can’t.”
At 16 I left a 30’ dent in the metal siding of his workplace- a state-owned nuclear testing laboratory- while clocking in hours to get my driver’s license.
This philosophy is a good one not just for toddler and antiques, but the next eighteen years of parenthood.
At the heart of deciding whether – and if so how much– to change your home to accommodate your new baby should be this philosophy: Things, even “irreplaceable” things, are never as valuable as the people who make your home a home.
Something is going to break. Move on.
Philosophy #2: Know What Antiques To Keep Out and What To Store
Two parts to this.
The First: Know What To Store.
Take a hard look at yourself and your relationship to the object at hand. If you find yourself saying, “I love this child, but if they color in my first edition copy of Charlotte’s Web, I’ll kill them…”
…then don’t put it in the nursery.
You need not live through a series of small catastrophes that destroy antiques you love for the sake of raising your child without changing your lifestyle.
Now is the time to rearrange your house to create “no kid” rooms, move favorites to your off-site office, or find new (out of reach) ways to display the objects closest to your heart.
Having a baby gave us the perfect excuse
- to frame collected art and objects – instead of keeping them stored in a baby-height printing drawer
- hang tapestries – instead of using them as decorative throws
- and switch to thrifted water/wine glasses for evening cocktails and parties.
And you know what? We like it. These practical changes unintentionally left our home with more art, more color, and more style than before.
Second: Know What To Keep Out.
Let me tell you about an ugly vase.
Every time a grandparent visits, something like this is said:
“How dangerous this baby size vase is sitting smack in your living room corner because the baby is going to break it…are you mad?!”
This vase is a knock off.
It’s worth whatever someone would pay for it at a garage sale on a good day.
It came into my possession free, left behind by someone else who also thought it was ugly and also had zero attachment to it.
Why is it sitting in my living room?
So it can break.
I use this vase as a low-risk object of learning for my curious boy. Through constant reminders like:
“That vase is fragile.”
“Do you want to see inside? Ask mommy. If you pull on it, it will fall.”
“We don’t hit fragile things- we clap our hands instead!”
I hope there won’t be any cleanup of shattered porcelain in our home. But if it does break? I’m OK with that.
Even better? As regular museum-goers and travelers, it’s a relief to be teaching a toddler about the consequences of gravity in the controlled environment of our own home.
Philosophy #3: If It Stays? Secure it.
Too many kids die or end up in hospitals from unanchored furniture.
Antique and vintage furniture is typically heavier and, at the same time, more fragile than modern day furniture. Before your new baby comes home, make sure anything you keep out on display is in good repair and secure from climbing.
As a rule, if I can’t climb or sit on it safely myself- it’s not where our toddler can get to it.
While objects like our giant ugly vase look dangerous, the real danger is in dressers, television stands, side tables, and plant stands made of wood or metal. To us, they look less breakable, which makes them easy to ignore. But when tipped? The damage they can cause to your toddler can be catastrophic.
The same goes for displayed decoratives and art.
We secured pieces- large and small- directly into brick or studs with 3-4” anchors. We traded out our museum glass for plexiglass in art hung below waist height. Lamps, vases, and some decoratives have been fastened with double-sided 3m tape just to make sure they don’t tip if he decides to climb the bookshelves before I can catch him.
You can have a space decorated with antiques while still creating an environment that doesn’t threaten the safety of your child. It just takes a little work upfront.
Philosophy #4: Shared Space Means Everyone Shares.
Unpopular opinion: I’m anti-baby stuff.
Too many of my friends have homes where the entire public space is taken over with toys and books. While pregnant, I heard over and over that it was “just that way” and I’d learn to accept it, too.
I haven’t- and I won’t.
Minimalism and materialism are conversations on their own. Let’s just look at the facts: You know what my 18-month-old’s favorite toys are? Pots and pans. My garden hat. Cardboard boxes.
Do we have baby toys in our living room? Yes. Does the baby- who is just as likely to make a game of stacking sweet potatoes as play with a designated baby toy- need more toys? No.
My husband has a dedicated shelf in our living room for Stephen King novels. My son has a space for a small rotation of books and toys, too. And me? I have a desk where I can sketch out garden plans without five billion toy cars under foot.
Everyone deserves to have their own space in a house- which, in turn, means the public spaces of the house should be for everyone. Not just for baby.
And it can all happen in the same environment.
Go all out in your nursery- that’s the baby’s private space. Fill it full of all the accoutrement that makes you squee.
But when it comes to the shared space of your home? Don’t feel guilty for taking a more egalitarian approach. Clean off a shelf or dedicate a small corner that can be tidied in under five minutes. That way, after baby’s bedtime, you can spend time with your partner in your own space.
Embrace the Decorative Opportunity of Your New Baby
Every morning, my son wakes up and makes his way down our front stairs to blow kisses at a 1970s owl lamp (story on that later).
I ask, “What does the owl say?”
And he replies, “Ooooo, oooooo.”
I can’t describe how this simple ritual pulls at my heart- but I’m sure he’ll be sick of hearing the story by the time he gets married.
You’ve collected your antiques from travels, from explorations, from years of diligent curation. Everything you have tells a story of how you found it, where you found it, why it attracted you. Now that you have a baby? It’s time for those pieces to create new stories in your heart and home.
Don’t throw it all in storage. Don’t put aside the joy of finding a set of green drinking glasses that remind you of a party at Neruda’s Isla Negra. If anything, this is the time for your creativity to shine.
Embrace the chance to cultivate your style around a new challenge- and share it with a new, beautiful human in your life.
Cheers!
Meredith Gernigin
Lead Editor
