I still remember the afternoon my oldest brought home a trembling stack of school art projects and my younger one decided the cardboard box was the perfect spaceship. Our small house felt suddenly full in a way that was wonderful and borderline chaotic. As a mom in my forties, I have learned to measure success not by spotless countertops but by the number of bedtime stories we squeeze in before lights out. Neighbors drop off extra toys, cousins come for sleepovers, and morning routines must happen without tripping over dinosaur figurines. Those everyday moments taught me to rethink space, not…
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I used to pack lunches and field last-minute science projects while humming the same two songs on repeat. My two kids, ages 8 and 12, run the household energy in neat little bursts of laughter, Lego towers, and evening debates about which movie character is braver. Our neighbor’s kids still come over after school, shoes thumping on the porch, and I love the way our living room becomes a tiny community hub. Those small, ordinary moments taught me that a child’s room is more than a place to sleep. It is a stage for imagination and a retreat for quiet…


