Each of my two sons had their own bedroom - paradise, right? You get your own space, I get mine. I don't have to worry about you touching my stuff. At bedtime, I can listen to the ball game and you can listen to your cd book. No fusses, no arguing about whose mess this is when Mom says to clean it up.
Well, this week they surprised me. I got the call (while I was at work): "Dad, we want to share rooms again." I may have rolled my eyes (don't tell anyone) at first, then postponed the conversation till I got home that evening.
"We just want to be together. Sometimes it's lonely having your own room."
We talked through the trade-offs: compromising with the music selection, sharing closet space, working out the conflicts, that kind of thing. Then we jumped right in with furniture moving. In the context of disassembling bunk beds, I overheard one say to the other, "Let's go put this in our room. Isn't it nice to say OUR ROOM again?"
My heart is warmed. My kids are getting it. Sometimes it really is better to be together. Sometimes my need to be WITH you should trump my desire to have my own stuff protected. I'll bet we can work out the other stuff along the way.