When we moved into this house, Alex was 3 years old. Contrary to everyone's advice, instead of putting Alex into the larger bedroom, we decided that she should sleep in the smaller bedroom, since (a) it was the closest to our bedroom, and since Alex isn't the best of sleepers, it was the fastest way we could get to each other if necessary, and (b) what the heck does a 3-year-old need with a big bedroom, anyway?
Well, our then-3-year-old is our now-5-1/2-year-old, and it's become apparent she's outgrown the smaller bedroom. So yesterday, we decided to move Alex into the larger bedroom, and make her bedroom the spare room.
At first, she wasn't particularly happy about this -- she's not a kid who likes change. But since she has been nagging me since we moved here to paint the walls of her bedroom pink, I ... and I'm not proud of this ... I bribed her with new pink walls if she would move.
"Pink like this?" she asked, pointing to a bottle of Pepto Bismol.
"Um, no, pink like this," I responded, pointing to a sheet of white notebook paper.
Eventually, we compromised on a colour called Tea Rose, and all day yesterday, Marcus and I moved the furniture out of the spare room, painted, moved her furniture (and all her stuff, dear God, all her stuff) in, and then set up the spare room in her old bedroom. And honestly, both rooms look so much better.
And I say this even though every time we pass her room, particularly if her pink lamps are on, we find ourselves basking in a searing rose glow not unlike that which would eminate if someone dropped a pink nuclear bomb on our house.