Gwen's Nursery

There is another kiddo in my life.
As of 2 weeks ago.
And my heart has doubled.

Projects are few and far between these days. I mean artsy projects. The constant effort of trying to scrape Lincoln's crusty spaghetti sauce off the table could be considered an ongoing project.  Potty training is a project, right?  It is practically a Broadway production. There are about 10 different musical numbers, constant wardrobe changes, some tasteful nudity and two emphasized potty dances. One more intense for holding it in and waiting until seconds before burst and the second a joyful, prancing number with cheer and applause heard down the block.

Oh yeah. I got projects.

But, I wanted to take on one more for my girl.
The second kid. 
The doubler of my heart.

And so, Gwen's nursery.

It's a nursery that could have gone straight up glitter, sequin, disco ball overload...because Mama has a sickness.  But the more I thought about my hopes and dreams for this girl, the more it balanced out. And the more I realized I had been gathering items for this nursery for the past five years.

Old chandelier crystals
A pointed finger from Cambridge, England
Enough gold fabric to make a bed skirt
A craigslist credenza from Casa Grande
Hats and a fascinator
A glass lamp I carted home from Vegas 3 years ago

It had been building itself right under my nose.

But, just like my girl, my Gwen, I wanted her nursery balanced. A place of beauty, yes, but of comfort too and security. Depth. Meaning. Strength. Life.

Pictures of her family and grandparents to remind her of the unconditional love that surrounds her.
A painting of Roldy. Because life is magical with a companion...someone to give love to.
Red converse. Because sometimes you need to get shit done and ruby slippers won't cut it.
Race medals. Because life is full of journeys and sometimes you need reminders that you finished a few.
A Madam President journal. Because you can and should be whatever and whomever you want to be.
Pragmatic Programmer.
A Year in Fashion.
Tao Te Ching.
Masters of Painting.
Mother Goose.
Eleanor Roosevelt. Because reading and learning and feeding the soul can be done in so many ways, so try them all and find what feeds yours.

Oh Gwen. Will this be the last big effort before second child syndrome kicks in? The lone project on your list compared to the long list of lovelies that we did for your brother?

Maybe.

But I promise you this. Those projects will go unfinished because your Dad and I will be spending our energy living life with you. Helping you dream.

And discover.
And learn.
And grow.

Because we love you more than any glitter flower can represent. More than the steps Mama took to earn those medals. More than the sequins on your curtains.

And we always will. No matter what.

And that means a lot because, Damn! Mama really loves your sequin curtains.