Owning My Space

As a child I spent half the week at each parent’s house. I don’t have many memories from childhood but I remember the devastation when most of my stuffies got thrown out. I went to my mother’s one weekend and they were just gone. My mother said I was too old. This was the start of a trend with my life. Me being overly protective of my things. My ex husband definitely did not respect my stuff and my father ended up giving some of my things to my half brothers in a move.

My ex and I moved in together when I was four months pregnant with my daughter. I ended up sleeping on the couch half the time because he snored and rolled on me once. When the baby was born she would not sleep alone. That girl was the clingiest baby I could imagine. She breastfed hourly all night. She was doing some sort of ninja torture training. After a few weeks we bought a double firm mattress for her room. By three months I had completely given up on the crib. I have been sleeping in the kids room ever since. Cosleeping saved my sanity and I loved the snuggles.

When my ex moved out it felt weird being in that room. I had always kept my clothes in there but still. We hadn’t painted or decorated so it felt like the perfect time for a change. I painted the room teal with soft green trim. I have to replace the bed he took, get a mirror, some stuffies, storage bins, a cube shelf. Now that it is painted it feels so much better in there, like I can breathe, like it’s mine. Maybe I’m reliving my childhood. Maybe I’m mothering myself. Whatever it is, I know I love decorating.

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