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A Room Of His Own

Four bedrooms, three children.  It seems easy, right?  One for the parents, one for each kid.  Except that when we moved in, we only had two kids.  With a crib in one room, a toddler bed in the other, and names on their doors, we were all set with a guest room to spare.  But, then, of course, we had another.  The older boys still seemed so small, and they loved the idea of bunk beds, so we bunked them in together.  The baby wasn’t interested in bunking, so he got the room across the hall, the one with the crib.

Time passed.  Our oldest son began to ask for his own room.  The baby wasn’t so little anymore and was ready for a bed of his own.  So, a little room swap :  middle child to the top bunk (yay!), third son to the bottom bunk, (yay!), and oldest back to the room with the crib (yay!).  We took the crib out, of course, and bought him a bed – a much better fit.

Time passed.  Son number two began to make waves.  “When can I have my own room?”  Hmmm…

For all of these years (nine and counting) our friends and family have had a lovely guest room when they come to visit.   Since both sets of parents live 10-12 hours away, this works well.  They visit several times a year and the guest room sees plenty of use.  Still, if you add it up, at the most it gets used what, maybe 60 days a year?  For the other approximately 300, it sits empty, my son perched outside like a vulture, a kind of pathetic one, really, longing for space of his own.

Our basement is finished and has space for a bedroom.  I used to call it an office, but without windows I always ended up at a coffee shop anyway.  That’s downside number one:  no windows.  Downside number two:  no bathroom.  (Sorry, pun really not intended.)

Nonetheless, our guests are headed there. I painted the walls and moved all of the furniture down and, if I say so myself, it looks pretty good.  Yes, parents, you have to walk upstairs to use the bathroom or shower.  But on the bright side, you don’t have to wake up with the sun because you’ll never see it.

On the much brighter side, my boys are THRILLED.  I was worried that the youngest would be sad.  But, no!  MY OWN ROOM?!  He’s beside himself with happiness, already moving his brother’s clothes out of the dresser drawers and re-arranging his toys.  I love it.

My second boy is beaming.

And that alone, my friends, is worth the all of the work it’s taken, the inconvenience to future guests,  and the big cut I have on my thumb due to my serious impatience with tools.

I wanted to post pictures of their new rooms, but that seemed a bit creepy.  So how about these, instead.  


This is son #2, happier than can be to get his football trophy on the very same night he got his own room.  Best day ever.