Someone is Going to Lose a Toyroom
Let’s talk home offices. Or let’s not. Currently, it is a sore subject for me.
I thought I had it all together that first week in May, paperwork organized, desk perfectly placed in front of a master bedroom window, dry erase board installed next to the master bathroom entry…Yeah, it LOOKED good in theory until I actually started working and somehow retreating to my master bedroom to get real work done became counter productive. My business partner and an intern would show up for our daily game of pin the proposal on the client and everything regurgitated on the kitchen table. Three laptops at a six person table, which left just three extra seats for eating, which really only left two adult seats, which would be ok for my small family, but not for facilitating any kind of wine night, which I all of a sudden felt like I needed in the very near future.
There was also something eerily unromantic about having a dry erase board in the master bedroom…just sayin’.
So somewhere on a Tuesday between work, arguing with a three year old to clean up her 122nd mess of the day, and going back and forth to her “bedroom” and her “toy room” I had a parental epiphany.
I had this great, open, 4-bedroom house, which I am proud to say we worked hard to buy. And I had this 3-year old, 32 lb heavy weight who was basically in charge of half of it.
You could say I grew a mommy pair that day and hijacked her bedroom. In my true, over-placating form, I sat her down and tried to explain to her that I needed her bedroom:
Me: Adelynn, Mommy needs to use your bedroom as an office and we are going to move everything into your toy room. It’s going to be so awesome, you can have your toys where you sleep now, isn’t that exciting?!?! (Said with exaggerated Disney World enthusiasm.)
LG: No Mommy, no offices. My bed stays here and my toys stay there. I DON’T WANT a new room! (Said with disdain and in such a way that my guilty mommy persona kicked in.)
Me: Honey, I need this room if you want me to continue to stay home and play with you. This is what I need to do to be able to work effectively and efficiently. (Yes, I really do use those words when I talk to my kid…there’s something wrong with me.)
LG: (Eyes welling up with tears) But Mommy, I like my bedroom and I like my playroom. It hurts my feelings.
Me: (Dang it. Here goes the guilt trip) (“Heck no, this kid doesn’t even pay rent!” as I was so eloquently reminded by a Facebook friend) Ok Adelynn, you have no choice in the matter, you better accept it.
LG: But Mommy, can we paint my room?
Me: Sure, why not. You can even pick the color. (Despite the fact I gave a household sermon upon purchase of this house that there will be no painting of rooms because it already a perfect shade of neutral beige, and because in our last house I painted every room a different color and it proved to be more exhausting than I bargained for.)
And That’s where I went wrong. I am still not sure why, after spending two days in her room painting her walls a disgusting, vomit-inducing Pink Burst and an overwhelmingly happy Sweet Lemon, I just had to push it to that next level and give her a CHOICE. I went as far as to pack the kid up and escort her down the paint swatch aisle at Lowe’s. All hopes of being able to give her a choice between maybe 3 tame options went out the door when she saw a whole wall of possibilities.
Ok, maybe I do know why. Guilt. Good, old-fashioned, mind-occupying, over-compensating guilt. It gets me every time, especially since I’ve been home but not really home. I mean, how dare I even consider taking this kid’s toy room and bedroom. I know, I know, she doesn’t even pay rent. Cue internal pep talk.
After one week of my major home project, I break it down like this:
Pink Burst and Sweet Lemon paint job-$128.00 and a slight headache every time I walk in the bedroom door.
1966 Family Heirloom Bunkbeds-Free with a little bit of sweat equity putting them together.
New trendy owl bedding-$112.00 from Tar-jay.
Non-matching rainbow rug 3-year old picked out on her own-$20.
Green geometric curtains-$50 and a break from the pink and yellow wall buffet.
Mommy’s home office complete with black and white accessories and hand painted Korean rendition of Starry Starry Night, a master bedroom free from clutter and all things office-y, and a sudden burst of energy and motivation to make business magic happen-PRICELESS.
Image from http://www.homeinteriorszone.com/home-office/avoid-the-clutter-in-your-home-office/