I think this room used to be a dining room. Six years ago, Matt closed off the wall that connected to the kitchen to make it a proper bedroom. Since then he's had three tenants live in this little space - his cousin, my best friend and my brother. Since I moved in, it's been home to a couch that barely fit through the doorway and served as a cozy spot for reading, napping and sermon writing.
But when I started growing, my hormones selected a disturbingly bright yellow for the walls and furniture slowly moved out. Today, it's almost ready for a new tenant - one we won't charge rent. Signs of new life fill the room now that his or her arrival is less than a month away. Sometimes, when I'm wide awake at 4:30am, I wander in and turn on the night light. I sit in the rocker and enjoy the silence, anticipating the hours I will spend in this room and enjoying the decor that's already turning this space into a little barnehage.
I can't bring myself to disassemble this diaper cake quite yet. Strom did a great job creating this little tower of baby supplies and it will sit on the dresser until a little toosh needs one of these. There is a stuffed moose in a Norwegian sweater, a beautiful baby book that demands my best penmanship, a scrapbook for the baby's first year, a cream colored homemade afghan sent with love from Boston and a dala horse pillow that begot this cheesy Scandinavian theme.
Matt's graduate assistant, Tara, made a crafty growth chart that hangs on one wall. If this kid loves competition and being measured half as much as Mom and Dad, this gift is sure to be a hit.
I'm glad the nursery window faces our bird feeder. Matt loves watching the birds and I can already see him showing our baby the action just outside this window, speaking softly about sparrows and our favorite cardinal.
I've been collecting family photos for this family tree that hangs above the crib. Our niece, nephew, siblings, parents, grandparents and great grandparents hang from the twigs of this branch Cara, Olivia and I found on the trails down by the Mississippi in October.
Fisherman John and Anton both came over from Scandinavia as young boys. I catch myself inspecting these photographs often and placed them next to each other for good company.
For now, this room is peaceful and clean. No one has pooped all over the gingham sheets or barfed on the suede rocker or drooled on the curtains from Anthropologie. For now, it is simply expectant space making room for new things to come.