When I walk into sweet L's room each night to read to her, whisper dreams in her ear, kiss her good night and rub her belly and send her tenderly into dreamland, this is where I find her:
She's a vivid child and her room matches her personality. I originally designed it with bold colors against a soft yellow so that its background feel would always be soothing, but the individual elements would all compile a visual cacophany. What's been the most interesting about her space, though, is that of the three kids she is the one who most needs to make her individual mark. She is endlessly curating, and rearranges her favorite objects in a slow, thoughtful, constant stream.
Here you can see the current soft friends who join her on her bed, the baby afghan my mom made her and immediately accidentally felted into a rug, her anteater, and, up on the shelf, Daddy Peanuts' feet are sticking out. You know Daddy Peanuts, don't you? L acquired and named him shortly after her baby brother was born. It's New Year's Eve, you're pouring champagne and feeling jovial; why don't I introduce you?
L has decided that she likes Daddy Peanuts up on that shelf. He is king of the room. She can call good night! to him from her bed, and he can wave his regards to her in return.
Daddy P is really kind of a lech, don't you think? But my sweet girl has an open heart and doesn't judge her friends for their failings.
Still, it's a new year. Time to set new goals toward self-improvement, and a time to feel joyous. So I thought I'd help Daddy Peanuts join our family in celebration:
Don't his blue eyes look so sincere? (Now that they're the focus of your attention, that is.) Daddy Peanuts really believes that this will be a great new year. And so do I.
Wishing you a 2012 of abundant playfulness and moderate dignity,
Happy New Year from the whole noteverstill circus.