Bedroom for Two

We moved into our house six years ago now. It's the longest I've ever lived in one place as an adult, after hopping through a line of dorm rooms and rentals.

It is a fine house, and we are grateful to have it. That said, it was built in the 1970s, and it has had a few owners with terrible unusual taste since then. Both of those facts have left their marks on the house, from the popcorn ceilings in many of the rooms to the strange two-tone carpeting choice in the hall stairs. My mind (and Pinterest boards) are full of ideas for changes I'd like to make, both big and small, but, alas, time and money are not unlimited.

When baby Trey arrived, we knew we'd need to figure out the bedroom situation fairly soon, since we now had three children to fit into two bedrooms. Of all the combinations, having Mari and Eddie share a room for the next few years was the one that seemed to make the most sense (and the one they were most enthusiastic about). Snuggled together in my bed one morning, they decided on a nature theme and we set about designing what would soon be their room.

In keeping with Schade tradition, what probably would be a weekend project for some has taken us almost half a year.  Todd and I somehow managed to keep our marriage intact while putting in a tongue-and-groove ceiling (no! more! popcorn!) in an un-air conditioned house during what turned out to be the hottest week of the summer. But over the past several months walls were painted, furniture rearranged, ugly light fixtures banished, and new curtains sewn, all with Mari and Eddie making excited choices along the way.

Yesterday I was putting the finishing touches on the climbing wall mural (there is a climbing wall!) and realized that we were almost finally finished with the room. And, perhaps unsurprisingly, it's become my favorite space in our house. I love resting on the fuzzy green area rug the kids call The Grass, staring up at the wood ceiling. I love the shared sibling space with its bright, outdoors-y colors. I love that the big kids were finally old enough to help create a space they enjoy. It is the one room in our home that finally feels completely "us," and it's a reminder of the wonderful changes that happened in our family this past year that led to its creation.

This is part of the first Open Adoption Blog Hop. Bloggers are answering the question, "What is your favorite room/spot/piece of art in your home?" 

You can visit other participating blogs (and join in the fun yourself) at Open Adoption Bloggers.

Wordless Wednesday: Afternoon Walk

Done

Todd and I have three nephews and nieces so far, all by way of Todd's brother. Oddly, they've all been harbingers of our own three children.

First Todd's brother and sister-in-law had a baby in 2004. Then Eddie arrived in our family in 2005.

They had another baby in 2007. Marian joined our family in 2008.

After a bit of a pause, they had a third baby in 2011. When Trey unexpectedly came along in 2012, Todd and I jokingly said we should have known he was on his way, since our newest niece was now a year old. Twice is a coincidence, three times is a pattern, right?

We recently found out that our sister-in-law is expecting another baby in 2013. All I could think when the inevitable joke came about how this must mean #4 was in store for us was, "No. No no no no no. I am DONE."

I've had many people tell me that they knew when their house was full, so to speak. Whether it was after one child or two children or six, they just knew their family had reached the right number. I've always hoped I'd stumble into that same certainty, especially after my endless dithering and overthinking post-Mari, sometimes eagerly looking forward to the "big kid only" stage, other times wishing for a third child.

I know part of my present certainty is due to not wanting to relive the way I fell off the emotional cliff after Trey's placement, and I am sure part of it is due to the fact that Trey is still a giggly, smushy baby at the moment (although thisclose to being a toddler, yikes). It may very well be that I will feel differently as his babyhood slips away and it's time to give away the baby things. But perhaps not. I have already handed off the newborn cloth diapers (so wee!) with nary a pang of nostalgia or hesitation.

Whether this sureness turns out to be lasting or temporary, I know how unbelievably lucky to have reached this place. And with a deep sigh of relief, I will embrace it for as long as it lasts.