We're remodeling. My husband wants a baby. I have talked myself into having one, too. I'd like to wait a few years, and I want to be prepared. I want all of the baby clothes, things, diapers, swings, playpens and pacifiers and things, more things and things. I want the toys, the history, the happiness, the memories, I want it all one place before he or she enters this world. So, we're remodeling.
My husband is peeling layers of wallpaper from walls. Walls that saw me grow up, that held my posters, that felt my head hit them when I tumbled too far. Walls with gobs of glue, paint, tears and blood. Walls with fists through them when older brothers got angry, walls with drywall cracking at the seams. He's peeling back the layers of my life. I never knew there were so many patterns. There's a bunch of dots on the wall and I remember being small and my brother having a dart board. I hadn't thought of that in decades.
The joys of having a family home. May it never leave our possession. May the walls be painted again and again. May our child make their own layers and may they all be memorable. Happiness, sadness, anger, joy. May they spend their years in this home and love it the way that I do. May they remodel and update, peel and paint. May they have happiness the way that we do. May their health stay strong. May this home love them.