I wrote a while back how we were giving the kids the master bedroom, in an attempt to find our own, if smaller, adult space.
Well, we did it. And did it work?
I wrote about this for YourTango.com last week:
“When I wrote (about the shift), our apartment was filled with boxes, and the day seemed as far off as ever before. We got busy, and then realized that the kids needed a transition time.
So their beds moved into the big bedroom, but our bed did not move out.
We fell into the daily grind, an IKEA closet broke on us and, well, I started to think that we wouldn’t make the move. But then my wife just got out the boxes and put the damn closet together.
Within a few hours, we had the room.
And I got nervous.
It’s been so long. How would we really like it? Was it too close? Would we actually lose touch because we were no longer forced to get creative when it came to finding those small moments of intimacy?
Um… the answer is no. Oh my goodness, no. No no no no no. This tiny bedroom feels like the most luxurious hotel. We go in and roll around together. We lay and talk. We hug. We go in by ourselves, leaving the others in the living room to—gasp!—have their own thoughts or do their own thing.”
You can read the whole post here.