{Lifestyle} Maylin's Nursery Tour

There have been changes galore around our house over the past month. Remember that nesting I was talking about? That's part of the reason. Besides tying up a few odds and ends around the house {we've lived in our home a year and I juuuuust got decor hung in the living room} one major project has been converting the upstairs guest room to a "big girl room" for Maylin to move into eventually. Eventually. She's still my only child and she's still my baby so let's not rush things here, but if I'm honest with myself I know this room must be ready sooner than later. Michael broke down the big double bed and moved it to storage, and I've spent a good portion of the last two weeks cleaning closets, moving items from one place to another, and clearing space for the toddler that will soon move in. It's pretty much ready for a permanent resident, whenever I decide to make that switch. I'll have a more detailed post of the Teepee Room in the future, but today I wanted to focus on etching Maylin's nursery into the stone of my blog. 

I've spent many, many, many hours over the past 12 months in this little room, and I've come to love it as much as I love my favorite book, almost as much as I love my old teddy bear. It holds such dear memories of Maylin's first year. Most of the time when I think back to special mama-daughter moments we've had, they've taken place right here in the upstairs corner room with the east window. We've wept together, clung to each other, giggled and played, met milestones, changed many a poopy diaper, taken quite a few naps, read stories, squeezed bears, babbled, toddled, smiled, snuggled, and  prayed. It was in this room that we struggled through our breastfeeding journey, flourished in it, and eventually ended it. It was in this room we both learned to love Good Night Moon. I sat outside the door of this room listening to Maylin cry until I couldn't stand it any longer {Babywise be damned}, gathered her into my arms in the pitch black of night, and rocked her with her warm, soft little face nuzzled against my neck.  I watched as the quiet purple of evening crept across the room while she took her bedtime milk; I watched as the pink of the eastern sun peeked it's way through the gauzy curtains; I prayed that she'd sleep safely and soundly at night and that her disposition would be cheery and easy with the coming day. I cannot separate this room from the deepest, most special moments of our mama-daughter relationship.

Don't mind the coffee cup that appears randomly, it was very early in the AM when these were taken.

With Hartlie Baby quickly on the way {less than a month!}, and with the big girl room ready for occupation, I've been thinking of the changes that will take place in my beloved nursery. Maylin's things will be removed from walls, taken off shelves, relocated to new places. I'm fine with this, I really am, but before the outer shell of this nursery changes irrevocably, I wanted to capture its magic. I want to keep it tucked away so I can remember it forever the way that it is, a treasury of moments between Maylin and me. So, one morning last week I straightened it up {it doesn't look this neat all the time, believe me!}, grabbed my camera, threw open the curtains, and snapped away. 

Most of the features of this room will stay the same:: the crib, the glider, the bookshelf, the dresser. Only very "small" changes will be taking place. Hartlie will have new wall decor, her own personal relics will line the shelves, the bookcase will showcase her personal property. I am looking forward to making new mama-daughter memories with her in this room, knowing in my heart that it's value will only increase with the addition of another baby daughter living within its walls. There will be twice as many smiles, twice as many tears, just as many all-nighters and dawns. New stories will be read, new bears will be squeezed, new games will be played. It is not the removal of one set of memories for another, but rather the addition of special moments to the repertoire I already have. In my mind it's difficult to fathom so much more good happening in this room, but in my heart I know it's true.

I wasn't aware I had so much to say about a bedroom, of all things, so forgive my long-winded sappiness. I blame it all on 9 month pregnancy hormones. And the fact that I am now referring to my daughter's age in years rather than months. I blame it on that, too. Or I could just wrap all the blame into one word:: Motherhood.

The last few pictures will be thrown up quickly- not to diminish their importance, but to save myself from the lump in my throat and to release you from any further loss of precious time.  

Nursery, you've been good to Maylin and me. Deeply, deeply, good. I am confident you will not disappoint with our Hartlie Baby. 

Finally, I simply had to capture the occupant in her element. Morning sleepy eyes with a bottle in her hand. Be still my heart.