Fresh Paint

Christmas morning at our house is quite likely the loudest place on the block. With four kids, 8 and under, the wonder of it all just comes to a head on Christmas morning when the kids run down the stairs. It's one of my favorite times of the whole year. This year will be equally as wonderful, though it might be a bit different. We have changed so much about our lives over the course of the year, so Christmas was not left out. This year each child could ask Santa for one gift and then they could ask for one gift from Mom and Dad. It has been so great to watch them not question the change even once. They have taken it in stride which has made me so aware of how much of the giving in the past has really been about us, the adults, not about the kids at all. Anyway. Regan asked for her room to be "redone" as her gift from Mom and Dad. We were thrilled about it, knowing the "girls' room" would need a facelift in order to prepare for our Ethiopian princess. So, we took advantage of the snow and ice last week to paint, rearrange, and get the bulk of the room made over. We still have a few details to tackle, but all in all, it is nearly done. As Mark painted the purple on the walls late Wednesday night, I couldn't help but get teary a time or two just thinking about what this room means now and the memories it will hold. With every plan or purchase I have been intentional about thinking in two's. Two of everything. Thursday I painted the wide pink stripe on the walls and again, couldn't help but think about what the "fresh paint smell" represented. It meant a room for one was becoming a room for two, a comforter from the shelf now belonged to our daughter who has likely never had her own bed, own blanket, or own pillow (if a pillow at all). It meant this was no longer "Regan's room," but a room for sisters. We tried to keep Regan out as we completed each step of the room so she could walk in and be surprised. Thursday afternoon after I got her bed moved into place and her tape removed from the walls, she came in and just like Christmas morning she put her hands over her mouth, smiling. She said, "Oh Mom! Thank you for doing this room for us! I just love it! I can't wait to show it to my sister." I grabbed Regan up , sat on her sister's bottom bunk and talked about what all they could do in the room together. It was so special to hold Regan, talk to her about sleepovers with her sister, late night giggles, and playing Barbies in the floor. Regan said, "Mom, you know why I picked pink and purple for the room?" I said, "Um, because you are six and a girly girl?" She grinned and said, "Well, no. Since pink is my favorite color, I am hoping purple is my sister's favorite color. See? This room is the perfect combination." Her words stuck with me. The perfect combination. Yes, it is. Two colors, touching, living there in that one room, looking beautiful and right together. The perfect combination.

Throughout the day I kept being drawn back into the room. My mind wouldn't let it go... there is an empty bed... waiting. I kept going in, straightening those covers, touching the pillow, smelling the paint. Rubbing my hand across the pink and purple thinking, "the perfect combination." Missing her. I don't know her name or her face, but I know I love her, WE love her, and we are eager to have her join our family. She probably has no idea what a pillow sham is, how to fold her clothes in her dresser, or what fresh paint smells like. But, today it is all hers, even then fresh-paint smell. The perfect combination.