Today, my daughter Ava and I embark on the mission of decluttering her room. As she approaches 11, her preferences have shifted dramatically. The once-charming cotton-candy-pink walls now feel overwhelmingly bright to her. The stuffed Smurf that once occupied the center of her bed? It’s time for that to go. And those princess-themed prints? Well, they’re definitely for a younger crowd. I’ve promised we can redesign her space for her upcoming birthday, but only if we thoroughly clean out every nook and cranny: closets, drawers, you name it. With Taylor Swift’s music playing in the background, we dive into the task.
Perched comfortably on her plush carpet, I watch as Ava stands amidst a bin of doll outfits, sunlight illuminating her features. She embodies the essence of a tween—caught between childhood and adolescence. She still believes in Santa Claus but is aware of the more complicated aspects of growing up. She prefers to sleep with a nightlight on yet can whip up a snack in the oven without assistance. She sits in the front seat of the car, yet still seeks a cozy tuck-in at bedtime.
Her previously round figure has transformed into a graceful, tall frame. The years have shifted her from cute to stunning. Gone are the frilly skirts and sparkly accessories; she opts for a simple pair of jeans and a turquoise tee. Her shiny brown hair is pulled back in a sleek ponytail, and her green eyes now shine brightly, no longer framed by chubby cheeks.
As we sift through her belongings, some items find their way to the discard pile with little resistance from either of us. We let go of posters from her Daisy troop and toss out pages from her princess coloring book. Even the golden curtain rods don’t make the cut.
However, I can’t help but create a small stash of items I’m not quite ready to part with. I hold up a delicate pink dress, shimmering with tiny beads and fringes. It was a gift from her grandparents when she was just seven, a memory that feels so fresh. “What about this?” I ask, hoping to spark a nostalgic moment.
“It doesn’t fit me anymore, Mommy,” she replies matter-of-factly.
“I know,” I sigh, clutching the dress against my cheek for a moment.
Ava suggests tossing a purple tulle butterfly that once dangled above her bed, but I secretly slip it into my keep pile. We gather a stack of Rainbow Fairies books to pass along to a neighbor; I won’t miss them. But the Ramona books? Those are staying with us.
Then I stumble upon a wonderfully lopsided clay heart box, crafted by her little hands years ago. It’s adorned with felt and colorful gems, the bright red paint practically glowing. The lid? Well, it’s a bit of a circle, making it a quirky fit for the heart-shaped base.
“Oh, Mommy,” she exclaims, taking it from me. “I just have to keep this,” she says, gently running her fingers over the textured surface.
I smile, understanding completely.
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Summary
In this heartwarming narrative, Lisa and her daughter Ava tackle the transition from childhood to tweenhood by cleaning out Ava’s room. As they sort through items, they discover the bittersweet nature of letting go while also cherishing the memories tied to certain treasures. This journey emphasizes the beautiful complexity of growing up and the importance of holding onto what is truly special.
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Revamping Tween Room, Parenting, Decluttering, Childhood Memories, Tween Transition