Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Progress

Yesterday, I finally moved the furniture back into our bedroom. A few more things to hang on the walls and that room is officially done, which greatly excites me! For me, seeing the final product is very rewarding. I have to admit, I am the kind of person who usually doesn't finish a project much less starts one. I have a hard time visualizing the outcome. When my husband and I first started searching for our home, the color of walls would rule out the house entirely. I had to put a lot of trust in him. We did find our perfect dwelling place and after doing a little fixin' upin' or more like personalizing, I have to admit, I've begun to actually like the little projects. I used to be the "if you can by it, why make it?" but i'm verging to "I can do that." My new favorite magazine, "This Old House." Seriously. So with motivation to press on ward, I've begun the third room. The cluttered room. The I'll-put-this-here-for-now room.

The before pictures



Really not sure which is scarier; the paint or the closet? I'll keep you all updated on my progess!


 Darling daughter is progressing forward towards the walking stage, which terrifies the crap out of her papa, and stands on her own now, more frequently. It's the funniest thing I've ever got the pleasure to witness. She will hold a toy in one hand and then reach for a toy with the other, letting go of her safe guard (usually her play bench thingy). And then she'll just stand there with the little toys tucked under her arm pits at a half squating position. More recentally, the little stink-ette will be playing at her changing table and let go. Her stance resembles an old man or a kangaroo. But her face is pure determination. No pictures standing yet, but these are priceless.


She cracks me up.


She was sitting here, like a sweet angel, watching Baby Einstein. I quickly snuck off to brush my teeth, only to return and catch her nibbling on my jumbo size, sam's club box of trash bags. The days of quick trips to the bathroom are over. She has proven untrustable. It's hard to imagine just a few short months ago she merely laid on her belly, unable to put herself in harm's way. As with anything, there are pros and cons with this whole mobile thing. For one, she entertains the crap out of her papa. I love to see their interaction. She gave him a full, actual hug for the first time last night. It's hard to find Marshal choked up; he usually laughs off those kinds of moments. But I might have seen a little bit of emotion, if not just for a second. Getting to this happy little place was a hard, bumpy, European-style road with European cab drivers. I'm sure he remembered for a second the feeling from back in the hospital when he, alone, stood by her crib, with one hand on her head and the other on her little diapered butt, listening to her lungs gasp for breath. In that moment, I'm sure he heard trumpets blast. I know I did.  

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