her sleeping spot. It was a compromise, really. The middle ground between her bed and Mommy and Daddy’s.
It was surprisingly easy to get her out of there. I promised her we’d makeover her room from the Tinkerbelle-green nursery she’d known for the entire four years she’s been alive to something so unbelievably cool she wouldn’t be able to resist sleeping in it. Something mermaid-y. Fairy-y. Cupcake-y. Teenager-y. She went for it.
We did some looking online, a little Pinterest-scanning, some paint-chipping and some damage to Mommy and Daddy’s bank account. Along the way, we discovered that the perfect teenager colors are Pool and Belize (check out the Sherwin-Williams “Chip-It” widget).
I even let go of my obsessive-compulsive perfectionist tendencies for exactly three minutes so she could paint a wall – let her take a little ownership of her new digs.
We are so proud of our work. She’s got a couple of bookshelves with owl bookends, a cozy bed, a ballerina jewelry box filled with mommy’s necklaces that she didn’t ask permission to take, and a chair with her name embroidered on it.
The only thing missing is my daughter.
She’s sleeping in the hallway. On the floor in her princess sleeping bag.
And I’m fine with that. It’s not what I had in mind, but it’s definitely a nudge in the right direction. And it’s safer for us all. Mommy and Daddy don’t have to lunge over a pile of preschooler and pug -- lest we step on hair, fur, a limb or a neck -- to escape our cave in the morning. And it’s less likely she’ll take a tumble down the stairs in the middle of the night.
At this rate, she’ll be in her actual bed when she’s 14 or so – about the age at which I’ll start nagging her to get out of her bed because it’s noon for heaven’s sake.