Since this is the only morning before Mary Apline’s arrival that I won’t have a doctor’s appointment (yes, it is already time to start going once a week–SCARY), I decided to soak it up. No guilt, I was going to do whatever I wanted to do, be out of the house, and not chide myself for all the things I could be getting done. Today was my fun day. The crazy thing was, that I couldn’t decide what I wanted to do. Lauren kept asking me what my plans were, and I told her I just didn’t know. I laid in bed last night (since I can’t sleep anyway) just thinking of all the possibilities. Think about it, what would you do with 4 guilt-free hours to spend however you like? But keep in mind that they are the only solid 4 guilt free hours that you’ll have for a long time. It was tough! You already know what I chose, and I feel like it has been pretty marvelous.
I have been telling Pace that she is going to school, and she’s been excited. We went and met her teacher and part of the class last week, and I could hardly get her to leave with me because she was so enamored with all of the new toys. I was a little sad as I packed her lunch and snack, and I was even more sad after tentatively leading her to the table with all the other little girls. However, I fought back the quick crying surge that swept over me by reminding myself of the quiet corner of Starbucks that was waiting for me 🙂
Sorry about the delay in the picture of the new room. The transition went really well and she has been happily sleeping and napping in her big girl room. It is fun to be able to lay beside her in bed to read a story, and she has learned to ask, “Lay with you a minute, Mommy?”, which I can rarely resist. Face to face on her pillow, we both close our eyes, and she has started this sweet gesture where she rubs my face absently with her little hand. It’s almost like she is trying to reassure herself that I am still there.
The first night in her room we made a big deal out of our new ritual. I videoed her bouncing around in the bed and telling the camera about her room. Then, Jeremiah read her a story (I’ve still got the camera rolling) and said her prayers. She then starts telling us to, “Close the door!” So we both kissed her (several times) and then did as she asked. As soon as it closed, however, she began to cry.
“Jeremiah, I think I should go back in and get her. We don’t want her to have a bad first experience in her new room,” I pleaded. Then, Jeremiah graciously reminded me that it had only been 30 seconds and we should probably give it a minute or two. I conceded and suddenly the crying stopped…I burst into tears.
“Are we really doing this?” Jeremiah asked sarcastically.
“You only get one first baby, and she’s not a baby anymore!” I wailed.
“Abby, she’s the same age she was last night when she went to sleep, she’s just in a different bed,” he calmly reminded me. (But I will add here that I could tell he was reassuring himself as much as me.) I, however, continued to press my lips tightly together and could do no more than nod my head. I was fine as long as she was crying. Then, I could tell myself that she really wasn’t old enough for this, and I could go tuck her back in her crib any second. The crying ending was something I was not prepared for.
“At least you know you’ve been there for every second,” Jeremiah quietly added. “At least you’re not crying because she is growing up and you feel like you’ve missed it. In fact, you’ve been here TOO much.” Now I have given him a hard time in the past for being the world’s worst comforter, but I must say that there was nothing he could have said to me that could have been more perfect.
“You’re right,” I sniffed as I bravely chucked myself into bed beside him. And I was so glad to be making a memory, that would seem silly and unnecessary to anyone else, with the only other person in the world who could love her as much as I do.
So, I was saved by our family on the painting, but that doesn’t mean that my nesting beast has been satisfied. Why can’t I just sit the nick-knacks on the new dresser without scrubbing it clean first? Why can’t I just hang the new blinds without Windexing the windows? Why can’t I just put the bed-spread on the bed without first taking it to the dry cleaners? Why can’t I just hang the curtains without ironing them first? I’ll tell you why–I’m a crazy, hormonal, lady, who is growing a baby and feels like the world might fall to pieces if I don’t get this room just right. The rest of my house is a shambles (at least it feels like it to me), but I have at least got this one room under my control.
I did this same thing with Pace’s baby room 2 years ago. It also has 3 doors and a closet, but I decided I wanted to paint stripes on her walls. It was my parents who came to help last time, and I think that I drove my Dad so crazy that he finally sent my mom and I to bed and stayed up most of the night finishing the room himself. My other obsession was the base boards. I’m not sure why, but I thought if I brought Pace into the world without having our base-boards scrubbed, she would surely perish of some mysterious infection she would acquire by her contact with them. Now, think about the physics of crouching down to clean baseboards when you have a watermelon protruding from your gut and your’e toting an extra 20-something pounds. I fretted over it so much that Ashley finally showed up at my house one Saturday and asked me to give her a bucket. She is such a good cleaner and as we both scrubbed those base-boards she helped me to laugh at the permanent grime that wouldn’t come off, but at least had been thoroughly Cloroxed.
Well, Thursday is going to be the grand opening of Pace’s new room. She has some new pajamas for her new bed, and she acts pumped to move over into her “Big Girl” space. Jeremiah keeps saying, “Pace, where’s your new room?” Then, she squeals and runs into it, with her pointer finger waving madly about, and screaming, “Pace’s room!” through her squinted-eye grin. I’ve found myself lingering over her crib every morning since I started this project and trying to savor the last glimpses of her curled up in a sweet little ball with her head securely nestled in a corner of her crib. Why is change so hard? (Talk about a whole nother blog! as I sit here and weep) So, I’ll post a picture of her in the new room on Fri morning. Until then, I’ll be here cleaning something irrational.
I just wanted to share a quote with all of you that I haven’t been able to get enough of. It’s from the book Middlemarch by George Eliot (BTW Eliot was actually a woman who published under this pseudonym). I haven’t read the book, but I watched my BBC movie of it and loved it so much that I can’t wait to read it. At its heart, it’s the story of a woman who has great plans to do something grand with her life. In the world’s view she fails, but in another sense she is as successful as any of us could ever dream to be. I heard this quote at the end of the movie and immediately rushed to the internet to copy the exact wording. It’s scribbled on a piece of white computer paper and has been laying at various spots in my house, where I find myself picking it up over and over throughout the day to reflect on its beautiful meaning. At first, I thought it expressed the ideal of what any stay-at-home mom was striving to accomplish. However, now I see that it could really express the goal just about of anyone’s life… So, without further ado, I’ll just let you read it for yourself.