Dear Baby Madzar,
Hi-Ho. Your mom here.
I know we talk every day. But some things are better in writing. Which is a lot of the reason why I write a blog. To keep memories in a safe place so that you and your children and their children can have them. This letter is no different.
You know, you are everywhere for me. And not just because we are literally connected at the hip. There's about a million things that run through my head a day. Most of them centered around you. Yesterday as I was looking around your nursery I realized I wanted to tell you one very important thing about your dad.
He has loved you from the start. And that love is right there in your room, in the walls that he has built.
I can remember before you were even conceived your dad used to talk about all of the thoughts he had for the nursery. He used to rummage through woodworking books and endlessly search for ideas online. When we first found out you were on the way, he was already so prepared. He flipped through his sketch book and instantly knew what he wanted to do. I think I may have even seen a light bulb go off above his head.
He scavenged the town for the best deal on the best wood. I came home from work one day and it was stacked high in our living room. It took him one weekend to clear your future nursery out. He sold the futon and desk and sacrificed his clothes closet in our bedroom to make room for all of his sports equipment. He then filled the empty bedroom with the carpentry tools he needed and soon got to work.
It was a very toasty July in Southeastern North Carolina and the average temperature was close to 100 degrees every day. No matter the weather though, every evening when I came home from work I heard some sort of power tool blazing. He was either cutting wood out back or sanding down putty holes. He worked a full eight hour work day as a carpenter and then came home to work another 5 hours in the same dirty clothes.
And it was all for you. Yes, he asked my opinion about design. I helped determine the spacing between vertical slats and the upper shelving ledge. But I can assure you none of it was for me. None of it was for him. I can't count the number of times he looked at me in all sincerity and said, 'I hope Baby Madzar likes this.' Every nail, every wood cut, every drop of paint was all for you.
The upper shelving ledge is my favorite part. I will most likely prop up some baby-friendly neatly-framed pictures that will impeccably match your baby quilt. Your dad and I often joke about you one day swiping those frames and replacing them with your favorite toys. If you're a boy, we see little toy cars lined up front bumper to back bumper making their way around the circumference of your room. If a girl, I'm sure there will be Barbie dolls perfectly perched. Either way, your dad has made it very clear to me that it is your room and you can decorate it how you want. After all, those are the walls that your dad built ... just for you.
And I will take those toys down only to dust and then put them right back where I found them,