I am one of those girls you might be jealous of; at least in one respect. I normally fall asleep in mere seconds turning off the light. This sleep often leads to complex, vivid, occasionally semi-erotic, dreams that I can remember in detail. If I can't sleep, I normally list the lineage of English monarchies in my head, starting with Edward III. But tonight, such peaceful slumber eludes me and no amount of British royalty seems to be working.
As I try and sleep, I am distracted by what is suddenly missing from my home. A nursery. Now, I don't mean to be melodramatic. I have been lucky enough to have needed a nursery for the past 4 years. But as of tonight, this most special of rooms no longer exists here. It was wiped away by a fresh coat of "Alpine Storm," lovingly painted by my husband. He is thrilled by the fact that the nursery is now obsolete. Me, not so much. Gone are the sunny yellow walls with hand-painted alphabet animals. Good-bye crib made by my father and changing table made by my grandfather. Thanks for the memories green gingham bedding.
My two boys, ages 2 and 4, are now in their brand-new "big boy" beds. They are sharing a room for the first time. I hope that they will share more than the giggles I heard for an hour tonight. I hope that they will create memories and a strong bond.
I now have a guest room. But I can't help but wonder...is the guest I want really another baby? The one I just assured my husband I could live without?
