Interiors/Kids: The Only Thing I Miss About Our Old Place

Our baby girl is six months old now, and I was remembering a year ago: morning sickness starting to subside, and nesting urge quietly building itself into an unstoppable obsession. We were living in a rented two-family historic home, but our landlords were deadbeats who gave us (basically) free reign on painting the nursery. I'm sure they expected something a little different than what we left them when we moved on, but I was a woman obsessed. I wanted a blue sky, I was getting a blue sky.
I tried to let the father-to-be help me paint, but everyday that ticked by was about three days too long for Lady Preggers, so I did it myself. I painted the walls, the ceiling, the clouds, the birds, then I made pillows for the rocking chair and the changing table. I painted the rocker, and the secondhand chest of drawers. I hauled up an abandoned bookshelf from the basement. I found an old mirror at a yard sale, and painted that, too. I ran out of things to paint.
That's when I cleaned!!! and cooked!!! and baked!!!, but, alas, those are stories for another time...
When it came time for us to move, I was glad, and I like our new little house very much, but I was near heart-broken to bid adieu to my much obsessed over nursery.
"Someday," I whispered to our baby girl, "I'll make an even better room for you. I promise."

Changing Table With Swallow and Mirror

View of the crib (and mommy-made high-contrast mobile)

The corner and swallows flying 'in the distance'

Custom pillows and girlie flowers and ribbons, oh my

Another swallow - this time holding cross stitch by grandma

View of changing table

*sigh*