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Tuesday, March 18, 2008Destined
 When we built this house eight years ago, the smallest bedroom was given to our smallest family member. Spencer -- sweet, sweet baby with big, big eyes -- was eight months old when we moved in. His "nursery" wasn't more than a room with a crib in it, really. The walls were "painter beige." The curtains were recycled from a room in our old house. The diaper deck was the same, rickety piece of pseudo-furniture we'd use for all of our babies. The only truly beautiful thing in the room was Spencer himself. And, of course, that's all that mattered. I remember the day he first clambered out of the crib, unassisted. His siblings were playing in the front yard during Spencer's naptime, when one of them informed me that Spencer was peeking out of his bedroom window. "That's not possible," said I, the all-knowing. "He must be peeking from his crib." Silly me. Spencer was actually standing on the floor by the window. That night, Eric dismantled the crib for what I was certain was the last time. My womb wept. I was determined to transform the room into something more pleasing than a blank-walled nursery. So I painted it (myself) and put up a border (myself) and stuck glow-in-the-dark stars all over the ceiling (myself). (Oh, you noticed that I'm a little proud of the fact that I did it by myself? If only you knew how un-Jill it is to do those sorts of tedious jobs...) So the tiniest bedroom remained the domain of our not-so-tiny-but-still-smallest family member. At one point we talked about doubling up the boys in Jonathan's room and using the smallest bedroom as a sort of crafts room or office space. It never happened. And though I certainly thought from time to time what I might be able to use that Smallest Bedroom for if we did some room-shifting, I never dreamed that it would one day become my Dream Nursery, housing my Dream Baby. Oh, she is a delight. As soon as I knew that she was a "she," I planned the Perfect Nursery. I'd never had one, you see. Not a Perfect Nursery with Coordinating Everythings. And while it wasn't my intention to spend thousands of dollars and choose only the best-of-the-best (I didn't), I knew that the nursery had to be simply...perfect. It is. Simply perfect, I mean. Naturally, the only truly beautiful thing in the room is Molly herself. And, of course, that's all that matters. Still. It's immeasurably satisfying to stand in her lovely little boudoir and think, "Oh. Oh! I have a sweet princess in my life. Pink stripes and hair bows and tiny dollies and ruffled blanket and all." And my heart overflows with thankfulness. The smallest bedroom was, all along, destined for yet another blessing. Who knew? |
About Me
I am: Mother to five stunningly individualistic children... Writer of young adult fantasy... Passionate advocate for Women At Home... Madly in love with my husband... In need of Organic Gourmet Chocolate on a regular basis. I've got a Paypal account if you'd like to contribute to the cause....
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2of my readers are feeling chatty:
(((Tears))) Molly is blessed to have you as a Mother. xo
(((Smiles)))
I know whatcha mean. ;0)
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