Because we love her, and because it seemed reasonable, we gave her the remodel as a Christmas gift. It was the kind of gift that I love to give. One that has been mentioned, one that would be meaningful, and one that wasn't expected.
But there is, of course, a story.
This remodel was hard for me. Not in a, "This is going to be a lot of work" way, or "I don't like what she wants to do" way.
But a "This is an end of an era" way.
You see, the border that is in her room was bought five years before she was born.
It was bought after we had made peace with our infertility, but hadn't adopted yet. It was bought with the optimism that comes with Doing Something. Anything. To attain our goal of children. It was bought while we were in the middle of the foster-to-adopt process that never happened. And because it didn't happen, we carried the border around for four more years before we put it up. We moved three times, took three different jobs, and settled down 1300 miles away before we put it up. I got rid of the newborn sized onesies and diapers. But I never got rid of the border.
When we moved here, the house needed redoing. Although it looked nice, it wasn't our style. I finished the kitchen, the living room, and one of the other bedrooms before I tackled this one.
In the meantime, we started the adoption process again. This time, we went with an agency. A really good one. And in the midst of the process, I redecorated the room. My thoughts were, "I have to repaint this room. If I don't put the border up, I'll have to do it sometime later, so I might as well put it up now."
So I painted.
(And NO. This isn't a Bronco's themed room.)
And I put our beloved border up.
Because there was something inside me that told me the time had come.
And in a few months, we were blessed with our Indian Princess.
So we added some furniture.
In a year, we moved Indian Princess out and gently laid our Littlest Girl in the nursery. And since then, they have flip-flopped bedrooms, shared rooms, and threatened to move into the basement.
But this room has always been the Indian Princess' room.
And so, at the ripe old age of 6-and-a-half, the Indian Princess picked out most of the stuff for her new room, and the remodel began.
The night before I would start tearing down 11 years of history, I let her take a swipe at it. She was quite pleased at the thought of destroying her room.
Usually I condemn that behavior.
Once the border was gone, it was much easier to go about the business of redecorating. And after painting one wall hot pink, and one wall boho teal, I am praying that she will be content with this room for a long time. I really don't mind the shopping, and the painting, and the moving of furniture. I'm just not sure my heart is ready for another reminder of how fast she is growing up.