By: Lisa Thompson
Updated: Feb. 19, 2021
Originally Published: Feb. 17, 2016
There was a moment—perhaps fueled by a severe lack of sleep—when I suggested to my partner that our two boys should share a bedroom. I must have been running low on energy, because the aftermath of this daring decision has left me both drained yet optimistic.
Let me take you back. Growing up, my mother made my sister and I share a room for what felt like an eternity. We fought over everything, from the chaotic mess on her side of the room to the imaginary line I drew with tape to mark my territory. I was too loud, she was too silly; I was bossy, and she complained. The battles raged on until we finally got our own rooms.
To prevent any winter storms of discontent from brewing in our kids’ shared space, my partner and I decided to promote unity over individuality. We drew inspiration from his laid-back parenting style and aimed to create a “kids’ room.” Most items would be communal, and we intended to use this shared space as a teaching opportunity in cooperation and conflict resolution.
For a while, life felt beautifully serene in our little bubble of hope—until reality set in.
Our kids, like any children, have their own distinct personalities, each with unique wants and needs that rarely align. If one child craves a bunk bed, the other insists on a traditional bed across the room. If one desires green walls, the other suddenly detests green and prefers a vibrant ketchup red. And as for flooring, one wants a cozy carpet while the other prefers a bare floor.
Miraculously, we’ve managed to compromise: they have a bunk bed, each chooses their own bedding, part of the floor is carpeted, and the walls remain a neutral beige.
Just when we thought we had navigated the toughest part, the first week in their shared room descended into chaos.
When I say “chaos,” I mean full-blown mayhem: pillow fights escalated to stuffed animals being hurled, culminating in a ceramic piggy bank shattering on the floor, scattering around $43 in pennies everywhere.
One child decided to “fix” the beige walls by using leftover butter yellow paint from the living room, while the other developed a fear of the dark, insisting on climbing into his brother’s bed each night. In retaliation, the older brother whispered scary stories until there were tears and late-night stomping down the hall—at 2 AM, no less.
However, amidst this whirlwind, I’ve noticed some glimmers of hope:
- When I ask them to tidy up, they collaborate to shove everything under the bunk bed or cram clothes and toys into the closet—creative problem-solving!
- I can hear them sharing secrets at night, talking about their little-boy adventures—sweet bonding moments!
- And when they both want something from me, they strategize together on how to convince me, showcasing remarkable teamwork!
In my view, childhood is fleeting. My boys only have a limited time to learn the essential skills that will help them become the respectful, responsible, and adaptable adults I hope for them to be. While they share this space, they’re also learning valuable life lessons.
Meanwhile, as I dream of the day when these two will thrive independently in the world, I find myself mediating their most absurd disagreements, which, honestly, I don’t mind at all.
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In summary, while sharing a room can lead to chaos, it also fosters essential life skills that can benefit our children in the long run. Embracing this journey, with all its ups and downs, is part of what makes parenting so rewarding.
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