We recently did a swapping of rooms. I think my husband’s resentment that our daughter was 3 feet from our bed and often would wake up and yell for her daddy to come get her out of her crib, not mommy, never mommy, only daddy, was the catalyst for the move. Aaron goes to work early, way too early for me to be aware of the actual time, and during the week, day after day, she would wake up after he left, and I would get out of bed, walk to her crib, with a big happy smile on my face to see my darling daughter, my only daughter, and I would get this reaction, “NOOOOOOOO!!!!!! I want DADDY!!!!!!” That’s really nice to wake up to at 6:45am everyday. And everyday I would tell her that her daddy is at work, it’s just me. And she would cry and cry and eventually get over it when I put Sesame Street on the television and she would become entranced by Elmo. Of course, redecorating was then in order. My lovely, sweet, adoring daughter deserved a girlie room and not the boyish room she was going to be taking over, right?
Not really. In fact, she really deserved to sleep with Lola in the mudroom. But I decided that now is the time to redo her room before princess crap took it’s roots in her room. I can see it now, the princess plasticy knick knacky garbage with little pieces and lipgloss wands strewn about her bedroom. The kits that help you become Belle and Aurora (Greta’s all time fave), and at the same time enable you to lose all sense of what a normal female body should look like, and trade that in for the 36 24 36 numbers that Barbie has.
I took my chance and decided I would do this one time, at least for many years to come until she can fight me on it and get her daddy to side with her and make me put pepto bismol walls up and pictures of Hannah Montana on her door. And splash glitter and peel and stick stars on her ceiling. I went for something timeless and sophisticated, yet feminine. Her bedding actually cost more than mine, but I think I like it more than mine too. It came out really nice, and I’m not done yet. I still need things like a lamp, some more art, and one more end table, but for now it’s perfect. And she loves it. And most importantly, daddy is happy too.
Now, in the mornings, she no longer yells for her daddy, instead, she climbs down out of bed, walks into our room and strides right past my side of the bed (which happens to be closest to the door) and goes to her daddy’s side. And what do you think she does 5 days a week when she sees an empty spot? “NOOOOOOO!!!!” She catapults herself onto his pillow and sobs because he has left her. I roll over and give her a sweet kiss and tell her, “but I’m here Greta. Do you want to snuggle with me?” I usually get a palm shoved in my nose to push me away while she wallows in her self pity. Poor thing, men will always make you cry, I just didn’t know it starts this young!