Friday, January 2, 2015

The room I grew up in

I have been sleeping in my "old" room.  Of course, it hasn't been MY room for 21 years, but I will always see it as mine. My parents bought this house in July of 1984. Just a few weeks before my youngest sister, Amber was born. I was 8 years old. I would soon be starting 3rd grade.  We moved into the house from an apartment across town and it seemed huge.  I would no longer be sharing a room with my sister, Carrie and I remember being so excited to have my own room.  

As you came down the hall, my room was the closest one to the family room.  Often, after I was sent to bed I would lay on the carpet in my doorway and watch whatever my parents were watching on TV. 

During fifth grade, I remember re-decorating.  We painted the walls lavender, except for one accent wall that got wallpaper.  The wallpaper was white with small bouquets of pastel flowers.  My parents got a new bed, and I got their old queen size bed.  My mom sewed a white eyelet valance for the window.  

I loved everything about it.  It felt great to have a place and room decorated how I wanted.  I think back fondly of how much my mom helped me to feel ownership for my own space and I really try to give that same sense of ownership to my own kids.  

The walls in the room are yellow now.  The furniture is different. The closet (which never had a door when I lived here) is neatly closed. And yet when I close my eyes in the room, I can remember who I used to be.  I remember being that young girl, and though 21 years have passed by I don't really think I've changed much.  

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