A Room of His Own

Finally…it is done. He has moved into his own room. It didn’t happen the way mom wanted it to, but it happened.

Owen has been asking for his own space for almost a year and I wasn’t ready to move him. I didn’t feel he was ready to take care of his space and as long as I was picking up his dirty socks as well as his brother’s, I didn’t want to have to do it in two rooms. I told him this. I explained that when he could show me he was responsible enough to take care of his own room, I would allow it. He has shown improvement. Not as much as I was hoping, but I tend to set my sights pretty high.

My criteria also involved some changes that had nothing to do with him. I wanted the room painted, the old dresser that is literally falling apart from age and use, to be replaced. A different bed or set of beds for him is in the plans as well. Of course all of these things take money. Money that I could spend, but I have other things to spend it on as well. You know how that is right? It’s not always that money isn’t available, it’s that money has too many directions to take at one time. Well, that’s what’s going on here. Spending money to replace items that are still functioning is kind of low on the priority list. So we have been waiting for a while and finally, on Monday, he came to me and drug me into that room and he made his case, and I bought it.

I could have made the move right then. It only took about 45 minutes to get my things out of the desk and chest in the room, and move his dresser into it. I was beginning to feel emotional though. It makes me sad to see him move out of the room with his brothers. I made the excuse that I needed to wash the sheets on the bed in there (which was actually a good idea since Aron has been napping in there a lot) and told him we may be able to move him in the next day. He was happy with that.

While he was at school on Tuesday I cleaned my things out of the desk and found a box for the items I had stored in the cedar chest in there. I moved his hanging clothes and his little framed birth announcement. I hung a couple of his school projects on one wall and replaced the battery in the clock on the wall. I vacuumed and brought the clean sheets up to the bed and then I left it and waited for him to get home from school because I knew he wanted to help.

Once he was with me, we made the bed together and I told him he needs to know how to make it look nice himself. We moved his pillow pet, his pre-school nap pillow and his favorite blanket into the room and then collected all his “treasures.” He has little boxes of trinkets and broken items that are what he calls “special” and we found a place for all of it. I moved his dresser while he arranged his books and together we dusted things and made it look moved into. He was so excited, and I was glad I had waited one day so that I could be excited with him.

That one day gave me time to mourn the loss of three little boys in one room. A happy little mess of short people on bunk beds with their names and artwork plastered on the walls. Not a room about one, but a room about them. I love them together and though I believe with all my heart that they will always be friends, I also know with a broad clarity that there is only a short time in life that they will be brothers the way they are now. They are going to, all three, go their own way. They will follow the destiny and commission that God has ordained for them and it will be wonderful to see them follow those paths with confidence and determination, but I will miss this. I will miss the every day, the every night, the squabbles and giggles and whispers and whines. I know Owen is only moving into the next room. Logic tells me it’s really no different, but somehow…it is. I’m thankful there is a next room before there is a dorm room or apartment. Baby steps are good for mom’s to take too.

This morning he was up but sitting on the floor, still in his pajamas and wrapped in his bathrobe, reading by the lamp before breakfast. He had made his bed all by himself and it looked great. It’s funny how little it takes to make what, to me, was a very empty colorless room feel cozy. A great 7 year old is a good start.