Bedroom Makeover - Fit for a TeenWritten by Carol Rice
Lanell and I wasted no time. We stood up, found a corner of the wallpaper that would lift a little, and just started tearing. Some of it came off in big, chunky strips, others were tiny shreds we picked at. I didn't think about it as tearing away my childhood. I was just making room for the emerging young adult.
My mom always gave great care to making mine and my siblings rooms a nice place. She decorated using colors and patterns we liked. We had nice furniture and most important, she taught us how to keep it organized and tidy. Not that I did... but if I wanted to clean it, I would have known how. She was sweet to set aside a place for special things that didn't fit anywhere. It was a drawer left empty for me to fill. She called it my “junk drawer” - that didn't change the fact it contained my treasures.
My little girl room was Raggedy Ann. My mom and grandma made the bedspreads and pillows – I loved that room. All the other girls were doing “Holly Hobbie” and I felt different and cool that we chose “Raggedy Ann.” I shared that room with my younger sister and we learned the skills of compromise as we divided drawers, closet space and even floor area while living together. At any given time a line of masking tape, we carefully made down the center of the room, marked our individual territory. (What? You did that too?)
Later, when I was about 11, I got my own room down the hall. We carefully decorated with a frilly yellow and lace bedspread, pillows to match and a lovely flowery wallpaper that coordinated perfectly. I had picked out lime green carpet – so basically, my room was like a sunshiney garden. I was SO in love with it. During my junior year in high school, my friend Lanell and I were sitting in my sunshine room one day, probably listening to albums (yes, the big black round things) and Lanell made a comment about my “sweet, girly room”. I had so many memories of putting that room together, it had never occurred to me that I had perhaps, outgrown it. When I said that out loud, she said I was stuck in the past and it was time for a teenagers room. I never even argued the point with her. I just knew in that moment she was right.
Lanell and I wasted no time. We stood up, found a corner of the wallpaper that would lift a little, and just started tearing. Some of it came off in big, chunky strips, others were tiny shreds we picked at. I didn't think about it as tearing away my childhood. I was just making room for the emerging young adult. It didn't take long for my mom to come in to see what the heck was going on. All of a sudden, feeling a little sheepish, we explained. Mom looked around the room, got a big grin on her face and said, “What color are you going to paint your walls?” I didn't hesitate to tell her, Sky Blue. The next day, Lanell and I came home to a gallon of the most gorgeous Sky Blue paint I'd ever seen.
So when my 17-year old recently came to me and said, “Mom, I hope this won't hurt your feelings. But I've had the same room since I was a little girl. Could we maybe update it?” I remembered exactly how she felt, and the bedroom makeover began.
Here's her sweet “horsey” room before:
Here it is after her makeover:
For easy instructions on how to make this rag garland, check out this article.
What was your childhood room like? What details do you remember? Did you keep anything from your childhood that reminds you of your room?
I grew up in a home rich with family heritage. My mom loved genealogy and knew how to breathe life into dusty documents and color to faded black and white photos - my mom told me stories.
As a grown woman with five children of my own, I've tried to do the same. For years I did it through scrapbooking. But it didn't take long to realize that it wasn't my artistic skills my children really cared about. They never stopped on a page and said, "Mom, you matched that paper to my shirt - perfectly!" Nope. What they did say as they leaned across my lap, pointing at photos is, "Tell me the story!" "Tell me mom about the day I was born... Tell me mom about the day I cried when everyone sang me happy birthday... Tell me mom about my grandma and her garden..."
Don't worry if you haven't done it forever, just start today. The consistency and cumulative effect of one good question - just sharing one story a day, adds up.
Latest from Carol Rice
Leave a comment
Make sure you enter the (*) required information where indicated. HTML code is not allowed.