I spent one morning last week cleaning out what was formerly the computer room as the first step of its transition into the twins’ room.
By the end of that particular day, this is what the room looked liked. The walls were still painted in the mint (not-so-sea-foam, as I had intended) green it had been since 2007. The dresser got to stay because it’s going to stay in the room anyway. The crib pieces were eventually moved to the closet. That little shelf in the corner absolutely had to stay there because it houses the modem and router. Just the essentials, I assure you. My desk and the desktop computer have been permanently relocated to the small nook under the paintings. The wireless printer is in our bedroom. This is not madness, this is outgrowing your place.
My dad came by on Saturday to help me repaint the walls of the room. We primed them first, then put on a coat of what I would call “white with a only the slightest tinge of gray” on the two windowless, closetless walls. Next, the wall with the window was covered in what I describe as dark butter. Ironically, Madison despises the color of this accent wall despite the fact that she loves butter with every sliver of her soul. She is probably still salty that we (and by “we” I mean Lynnette) shot down her choice of teal and the other 17 or so suggestions she made while we were studying paint swatches. Almost as soon as the paint dried, Lynnette inspected the room to find the many imperfections in our work. She re-taped the walls, marked the flaws with little pieces of blue tape, then went about the process of making the room look as good as it does in her head. I knew well enough to stay out of there when such a process begins – I can only impede it. My life’s motto of F*ck it, it’s fine obviously does not mesh well with the attitudes of an artsy/crafty perfectionist. Sometimes I don’t know how we got married. Then again, taking into account the obvious and numerous leagues between Lynnette and me, I assume she considered my marriage proposal, then simply applied my life’s motto to the situation before uttering “Yes.”
The sun was still up this afternoon when we finished dinner. “Do you want to just put the cribs up already?” Lynnette asked. This translates into I want to put the cribs up already, Phil. And so we did. We were very fortunate to have the both cribs gifted to us by Lynnette’s friend who also had twins. When Lynnette told me of her friend’s generosity I was touched and thrilled. These cribs are a stroke of pure luck and timing (her twins had outgrown them), and they came deus ex mahina, falling out of the deep blue sky of other people’s hearts. Our family is grateful. It’s worth saying: never underestimate the impact a seemingly minor act of kindness could have on others.
So, this is what the twins’ room looks like as of this moment. Eventually, we will fill it with their clothing; we’ll toss some mattresses in the cribs; my mom will think of something exotic to put on one or two or three of the walls; I’ll possibly get a small rocker to put right in front of the window; we’ll take the killer whale out of the room. Other than that, I don’t know what it’s going to look like, but that’s fitting I suppose. I have no idea what the rest of my life is going to look like once Baby Girl #2 and #WhyIsItSoHardForMeToPickABoysName get here.