When we bought our house, we were newlyweds who had literally just moved halfway across the country.
Three bedrooms, two bathrooms and 1500 square feet seemed like way too much room for two 20-somethings and a 40 pound dog. In fact, for over a year, two of the bedrooms served as nothing more than storage for crafting, beer brewing and jackets we didn't need for Phoenix weather.
Now the dog is 50 pounds, the 20-somethings are both over 30 and our family of two has become four.
Three bedrooms is starting to feel a little cramped.
When we found out Peanut was on the way, we knew we had a choice. Move her in with Bjorn or turn the guest bedroom into her nursery. Considering that none of our family live within driving distance - not even i the same state - we decided to keep the guest bed up and ready for use.
But we didn't want to bunk Bjorn with his baby sister.
It took a little bit of logistics, and alot of convincing the Hubs that it would work, but we wound up keeping the guest bed in Peanut's room. But because it is such a small room, and such an odd shape (angles everywhere!), we barely had any room left. Peanut's crib went against one wall, and her changing table? Well. . . . the dresser became her changing table, and that went in her closet.
Yup. In her closet. We (and by 'we', I mean, 'The Hubs') took the doors off her closet, and we (by 'we', I mean, 'me') put up a curtain valance to hide some of the storage on top. But it's still a closet.
Every time we change her diaper, she lies on her changing table, staring straight up into a sea of colors and textures. She sees pinks and purples swirls, green polka dot pants. Sweatshirts with shiny stripes down both arms. Blue shirts stitched with flowers and trees. A lime green raincoat that makes me long for a thunderstorm.
Her arms reach up and she touches velvet and chiffon, silk and cotton. Each fabric designed to draw out a different reaction, and she does not disappoint. Her eyes light up and she smiles that wide open, gummy, toothless smile we parents will do anything to get. And all it takes are a few clothes.
I can't help but imagine that maybe having her changing table in a closet could shape her future. I imagine her as a fashion designer, or a model, touching the fabrics much as she does today, letting them slip and slide through her fingers. Maybe she will design furniture or homes, her inspiration drawing from those early days when she was exposed to more colors and textures than she knew existed. All because her changing table wouldn't fit anywhere else.
I always think that you are where you are in your life for a reason. To teach you something, or give you something.The people you meet are there for a reason, and when they leave from your life, it is because their purpose has been fulfilled. Maybe we are here in this house for a reason as well. Maybe while we have cried and raged at the injustice of the housing crisis, this house really has been what we needed all along.
Maybe our modest little home, with its modest little bedrooms, will breed imagination into our children in ways we never could have expected.