From the Next Room

As I type my children are excitedly chatting in the next room. They have taken over our family room with plans for an elaborate fort of blankets and chairs. It looks like a disaster zone--and they are exuberant.

As fun as it is--the quintessential childhood activity, the sibling cooperation--I confess this hyper housekeeper had to adjourn to an adjacent room after watching the countless loads of sleeping bags, board games, lanterns, stuffed animals and other 'essentials' they are currently relocating. I was starting to twitch with thoughts of the mess they are making and the complete lack of enthusiasm the clean up process will involve.

I skipped the now because I was stressing out about the later. Such a common pitfall for me. While being right in the thick of things with them was stressful, one room away offers perspective. Their laughter, teamwork and obvious pride in their creative work is actually sweet from one room away.

I can't help but think this is an accurate depiction of my role as a tween Mom. No longer carrying, hovering, unable to divert my eyes for a moment for fear of their safety--this next decade seems to require a bit more stepping back, listening, letting them work things out. I haven't left the building by any stretch of the imagination--but I am increasingly able to leave the metaphorical room. And they know I am right here when they need me.

Frankly, those calls for help--or even better, those invitations to play--mean all the more to me when initiated by them. As a matter of fact I just got one. If you need me I'll be trying to chill out in a blanket fort playing Go Fish with some growing 10 year olds.