Transitions are bittersweet.

When we found out we were pregnant with J, like any “new” mom, I started thinking about how we were going to decorate his nursery. I have never been one to follow trends, liking to pave my own way and push my own creativity. After much discussion, Husband and I settled on decorating J’s room with The Giving Tree and another Shel Silverstein poem. With that in mind, we reached out to my mom for help. One weekend, she painted, and his room was officially ready for his arrival.

As J has grown, so has his room. Although the same physical space, the crib made way for a twin, the board books and stuffed animals were replaced with learning-to-read books and well, still stuffed animals, and the amount of Legos strewn throughout his shelves, the floor, and every surface definitely hints that where a baby once lay, a boy now resides. 

I mentioned a couple of weeks ago, that our grand plan to build a room in the attic was squashed. If you missed it, I’ll recap it by simply stating that it ain’t gonna happen (if you’d like the full scoop, check it out here). With our new plan in place and A’s new bed on order, we started putting our plan to work.

With the “bonus” snow day we got last week (I AM SO SICK OF SNOW), Husband and I completely cleared out J’s room. All that was left, was me and that tree…ready to paint and move onto the next phase of our life: A in J’s room….J in A’s room…and the baby will eventually join J when he is sleeping through the night (please dear lord, help him sleep through the night).

treeAs I stood there with the paint roller in hand, I was hit with sadness. Normally, I am the one that celebrates the next phase of my children’s lives, but this made me pause. J and I have spent many hours in this room together. Rocking, pacing, singing, crying, humming, rocking, smiling, all of it with my first little man, many times in the middle of the night. Just the two of us. There are a lot of memories in that room. But it’s just a room. They are just walls and even with a new coat of paint, the memories remain.

And so, I painted.

poem

The tree is gone. The poem is gone. And in it’s place, a new space…perfect for a tween girl. I got to do it all over again in A’s room. This time, instead of a tree and a poem, there were light purple walls. The color chosen by an overly excited five year old, who has had her own transitions….but still the color remained.

The rooms turned out great. A is overly pumped with her space….still some minor tweaks to make it perfect (need to get her a smaller desk, new lamp, etc.), and J is so excited about his expanded space. We’ve reminded him that he will have a roommate (hopefully sooner than later), but he is thrilled, regardless.

I am excited for this next chapter but that doesn’t mean I won’t hold onto those memories so fiercely.

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One thought on “Transitions are bittersweet.

  1. Such fond memories of a baby, now a boy. And, A on the cusp of teenage-hood. Growth and change is human and life – and as it should be. Luckily, it’s just paint…

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