First published on November 16, 2015
There are many so great things about having a blog:
– you can write it off as a major corporation in Switzerland *
– when people ask what you do for a living, you get to tell them, “I am a writer”, when in reality, all you do is eat Dove chocolate all day while taking quizzes on Buzzfeed. But since you can’t fit that in the little squares on job applications, you put down “writer” anyway.
– I couldn’t think of a third thing.
The above was made up for comedic effect, writers don’t sit around all day taking quizzes. That I know of. But I am sure they do eat Dove chocolate whenever they get the chance because that is some good shit. And when I say “they” I mean “me”.
Actually, the greatest part of blogging is having this diary of your life to go back and remember things from the past you have written, especially when they pertain to your family.
Recently I went through every single blog post I had ever written.
That is a lie.
I stopped somewhere in 2012 because HOLY CRAP DO I TALK A LOT.
It took me a solid week to get through two years of blog posts and I admit, I was editing as I was going along.
Just grammar mistakes, forgotten periods, the EGAD your/you’re conundrum.
I needed to make it go away so my eye would stop twitching.
In going through old posts, I was re-living my life in a way and it was all kinds of amazing.
Then I decided I wanted to go through old photo albums with the girls that week as well.
I just felt like reminiscing.
It’s good and I recommend doing it every so often.
In doing so, I found this old picture of Anna’s room:
This was taken in 2011, just four years ago.
Parents know this: four years brings a lot of change.
I just had this conversation with my friend Shannon the other day.
Four years as an adult doesn’t seem like much but in a child’s life, it is huge.
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Don’t blink.
So as I was saying, that room up there was her 11-year-old bedroom.
Her sweet little hideaway from the world.
But at the time, she was outgrowing it and wanted more of an older looking room.
Well, as “older” as an 11-year-old can dream up.
With the help of my mom, who happened to be visiting from out of town that weekend, here is what we came up with:
I remember feeling like this was so much older and being a little sad inside yet happy for her and her new room.
Little did I know how many changes that would be coming down the road.
Naive me thought this would stick for years and years to come.
The added chalkboard desk helped bridge the gap into being a full-fledged “tween”.
The desk lasted a while but the room did not.
Out with the old and in with the…….
I did love this makeover because it made her room look a little older but still soft.
I wasn’t yet ready to let go of my little girl.
But over the next two years, the yellow started to fade and peel and I started hearing those words again.
“Umm, mom? Could we maybe, I don’t know….change up my room?”
“Again?”
Now, you should click on the links above because some of the dialogue is worth reading.
I was not going into these makeovers without a fight.
I don’t want you to think I was a pushover.
I had told Anna that this yellow was staying up until she graduated high school.
She is now a sophomore, to be clear.
So this past summer, we again marched to the Home Depot paint department and yet again bought another gallon of paint.
Or two.
But this time, she and I painted the room together.
And it was actually, fun.
It is perfect for a teenage girl.
We have since removed the carpets in all of our bedrooms and I love the dark wood against the white.
By the way, that isn’t wood.
It is laminate.
Our girls make messes.
Hell, WE make messes.
It is so easy to clean these floors.
So much easier than carpets.
The bedding is from Kohl’s this summer, 60% off.
It looks like the fancy duvet covers we saw for hundreds of dollars.
No way is that going in my teenager’s room who gets makeup all over her bedding.
This only cost us 60 dollars for the entire bedding set.
Change is good, change is good, change is good.
I know it is going fast, I see those four years and how they flew by.
I don’t want to think about how fast the next two are going to go.
A Grace Full Life 