I recently re-used my stack of doily banners from Eisley's first birthday to decorate for her second birthday. After taking them down once again, I couldn't bear to put them all away. For some reason, doily banners complete me. Or they had me at hello. Or some sort of ill-fitting Jerry Maguire reference.
Anyway, I strung one lone banner in a (hopefully charming) lopsided fashion, above her crib in our room. I have every intention of creating a fancy photo-and-frame collage on this wall at some point in the near (or far) future, but for now I feel like this spruces up the area at least a little bit.
Come Christmas time, I'm totally going to string up some twinkle lights, too. Don't even get me started on the twinkle lights. They are my happy place.
Every now and again, people ask us how it works—the whole sharing-a-room-with-a-toddler thing. I have actually been pleasantly surprised by how normal the whole thing feels. It doesn't make me feel like we've lost our own space, like we're being forced to share a room, or awkward and unusual in any way.
Most days, my biggest gripe is that I'm unable to read a book in bed before going to sleep. (This is where a fancy-shmancy e-reader would come in handy, I'm sure. Someday!)
I always dreamed of decorating a nursery for my first child, but, as it turns out, things don't always end up the way you planned. Instead of a house with a white picket fence, we have a cozy duplex on the corner of a fairly busy street. Instead of three bedrooms, we have one. And that's the way it is. And that's what has (somewhat unsurprisingly) worked out perfectly, in its own way.
I know of at least two other married couples who have done the same thing with their first child—sharing a bedroom out of necessity. I love when I discover other people who are making it work in small spaces, because sometimes I do slip into that mentality of, This isn't fair! How come everyone else gets to have a nice home with extra rooms? I deserve this, I deserve that, poor ol' me.
Some of that is just selfishness and human nature at its best, but I know that much of it comes from feeling quite alone in our situation. Everywhere I look I'm surrounded by images and words and messages of how things should be, and what I should want things to be, and what normal is, and it's not always my reality.
So, when I meet someone else who manages to get by on less, with a smaller space, it is like a breath of fresh air.
Is it weird that I love watching the season of Friends where Rachel has Emma, especially because never once does Emma have her own nursery? How often do you see that on TV or in movies, not to mention on blogs or in magazines?
Someday we will have more, and down the road Eisley (and any other children that hopefully come along some day) will have more stuff and more room to roam and more walls to destroy with colored pencils. But I hold tightly to the idea that we will always look back on this time of our lives and almost miss the simplicity and close quarters.
As always, I'm trying to remember to just live in the moment and stop trying to focus on everything I dream of happening someday, someday, someday.