A little over four years ago I was pregnant with my firstborn. I didn't nest. I didn't dwell on the perfect crib bedding. I didn't agonize over the perfect paint color. I didn't pick a theme or analyze the current nursery trends. My dear little baby had no nursery, just a crib placed directly next to the refrigerator in our one-roomed loft. 

We moved into our house when he was three weeks old. Designing a nursery with a three-week old just wasn't in the cards, so the crib and dresser/changing table came into our bedroom with us. The "nursery" was set up as the guest room. 

 My son, finally in his own room at one year old.

My son, finally in his own room at one year old.

After his first birthday it was finally time to move our dear baby into his own room. It was agonizing. Such a sad, sterile room! No baby should have to live there! So, I blocked out a weekend, and I painted. I painted him a little forrest with some leftover paint and cheap foam brush, completely freehand and on a whim. I cut out paper leaves from an old Kurt Vonnegut novel and pasted them onto the branches. It was a labor of love, and it made me happy. And, it made him happy too, which was even better.

I remember going to work the following Monday and sharing a photo of my babe's new room with a co-worker. The photo got passed around, people oohed and aahed, and my little business idea was born. Could I do this as a living? Would others actually pay for my creativity and labor? Is this crazy?

It took me another baby and two more years to finally get up the nerve to give it a  go. And here I am, at home with my crazy kids, still working and doing something that I love. 

My first mural is far from perfect. In fact, I look at it every day and critique the messy lines, the wonky shaped branches on one wall, the amateur quality. But, it is still one of my favorites, and it reminds me every day how much I like what I do. It is a special little room, a happy little room.

The room has grown as the boys have grown. We keep it simple. It needs little else. It has changed from sweet little nursery forrest to a forrest for little feral beasts. I know that they will grow out of it one day, but until then it will remain our own, special, wild and wonderful place.

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