My kids room is the OPPOSITE of Pinterest worthy. Walls covered in Crayola masterpieces hung by scotch tape, beds transformed into forts, 12 different light/sound machines, and about 400 stuffed animals (each one having a unique name and the smallest one regularly misplaced right at bedtime).
Why am I talking about my kids room? Because for days their fort-beds have been driving me crazy. Is it seriously necessary to build this ginormous tower every single night? To them, yes, completely crucial for a successful sleep. Duh, Mom!
So today when they were off playing, I rolled up my sleeves and decided to take back control. Down went the towers, pillows were returned to their proper spot, blankets flattened and I’ll tell ya what, it looked good. Like real good.
2 minutes later? Control... gone. Epic meltdowns, beds ripped apart. My youngest actually “told on me” to my husband. The old me would've put my foot down, put up a fight. But the new me, Sober Jess, she's got patience. She thinks clearer now. And in the words of Glennon Doyle, "She's a goddamn cheetah". So I took a few breaths and then it hit me. Why do I care what their rooms look like? Ain’t nobody coming to our house during a freaking global pandemic. Also, by allowing them to decorate their room, I feel like I’m letting them know that their opinions are valid. Their creativity is welcome and encouraged. It’s better than okay to be who they are; it’s wonderful.
Lesson of the day: Pick your battles Mama. There are plenty of more important things to have control over.