Six months ago, I wouldn't have even dreamed of calling it a nursery. It was a boxroom. Because a defining feature of the room was that since even before I moved into this house, it was full, and I mean full, wall to wall and floor to ceiling, of boxes. Occasionally Steve would have a brief flurry of activity to reduce the amount of Stuff in there - most notably, when we got three big Billy Bookcases for the living room and the boxes of books that had been hidden away for years finally got a more appropriate home - but every three steps forwards seemed to be followed by two steps back as we needed *somewhere* to put an unwanted gift, or a bag of clothes for the charity shop, or a broken Whatever that needed to be taken to the tip "at some point, but not right now, because they're closed/it's raining/we're busy/etc, let's just pop it in the boxroom for now so it's out of the way."
Even as late as June, in a discussion about nursery plans with other women who are due to have babies in October, I somewhat resignedly posted this:
If it helps, ours still looks like a boxroom half-full of junk. I’ve given up on “beautiful” and am prepared to settle for just being able to get the carpet cleaned before the baby is here.
But by early July we were able to get to the window and in mid-July, we bought paint. By the end of July, the walls were starting to look like this:
Steve did the big roller work, the magnolia and the blue. I did the clouds, freehand, using a sponge. It took quite a while to get them *all* done - obviously I could only do very short sessions and only while someone was able to help me on and off my table (a ladder is more traditional but would have been asking for trouble). But I was so happy with how it came out, and it meant a lot to me to have done them myself.
Painting complete, I was able to go ahead and order new blinds, and a new carpet too (plug goes here for Godiva Carpets, a local firm who provided excellent customer service, fast fuss-free fitting, and competitive pricing). A set of flatpack drawers was assembled, and is now filled with washed and folded vests, babygros, sheets, blankets, little hats, tiny mittens and other assortedness. The Big Cot has been assembled too, although at the moment the mattress is still in the wrapper and my hospital bag is sitting on top of it, because at first the baby will sleep in our room. And then to top it off, my mother found some monkey decals online.
It's unequivocally a nursery now. Steve and I both like going in there just for the reassurance of it, that it is a completed project that's ready for Offspring, one that doesn't have to be a second-rate panic solution cobbled together at the last moment. It feels good.