This is the nursery , which has come a really, really long way from not too long ago.  It’s exactly what I wanted, and makes me smile whenever I poke my head in.  The lavender (which is Amethyst Cream, to be precise) came out as I had hoped, and gives the room a very cheery, feminine feel.  I feel so girly for wanting it, and John was good enough to oblige me.  He even likes how it turned out.  Our parents did virtually all of the work for the nursery, and I did hardly any, as most of it involved fumes.  My parents and Eileen tore out the old pieces in the closet (which John is standing in to take this picture–the door to the room is immediately on his left).  Eileen spackled and the parents sanded at least three separate rounds, transforming a wall that could only be described as mountainous into a crisp, smooth wall.  My parents painted everything white.  One morning, John and I returned from church to find my dad there painting the purple.  You know your daddy loves you when he comes over to paint the nursery.  You know he really loves you when he comes over to paint the nursery purple.  My parents also picked up the chair rail John and I had picked out (hooray for a minivan!  our little “go-kart” of a car wasn’t long enough), then stained it at their place so that I didn’t have to deal with the smell.  Then John and my dad put up the chair rail. [John took a picture that shows off the chair rail's beauty, but due to what is probably the norovirus infecting my poor husband, I've been evacuated from my home and computer to Eileen's home and computer until John is better and can disinfect the place to prepare for my return.  I'll put the picture up later.  Feel better soon, John!  I miss you!]

You may have also noticed that we have a crib!  Marc and Elise, parents of three who are in our Bible study, were generous enough to give us this crib, which is absolutely gorgeous.  They’d warned us that the last movers who had disassembled and assembled it had used the brute force method, so it would need some repairs before use.  Enter my dad, who makes furniture for fun.  He fashioned two brand new support pieces from oak.  They’re now the sturdiest part of the crib, and I can rest easy.  Thanks, Dad!

Also pictured is one of the twin beds I grew up in (bunked with either Megan or Max, depending on age) with a quilt made by Gram, John’s maternal grandmother.  There’s more to be done, but for now the nursery is a tangible reminder, along with my expanding belly, that there’s an: