|This dramatic make-over occurred after 8 hours of labor.|
Still, myself and LSS feel compelled to push the issue. We have conferred with mental health professionals who unequivocally state that humans feel more relaxed and productive when they are in ordered environments.
Having the power of truth on our side such doesn't move any of us closer to the finish line. And I do mean all of us. We are all in this together. Our family is a unit that is only as strong as the messiest link.
The strategy is to break the project into its component parts - yesterday the desk, today the dresser, tomorrow the closet.
Yesterday I sat on my daughter's bed and encouraged her to move crap she didn't want or need to the hallway where the sentimental stuff would be put into storage. "When in doubt throw it out," I told her.
When I reached the time of night where I lie in bed with my eyes closed awaiting sleep LSS stormed into the room demanding to know why sacred objects were moved to the storage pile in the hallway. "She didn't want them," I told her.
Today some, but not all, of those objects are back on my daughter's desk. LSS realized, quite accurately, that my involvement in this project would denude the room to an unacceptable level.
Every day there are bad tempers and angry words and disappointment stalks us at each turn. Somehow we soldier on in the hope that the kid's room can be a suitable place for existing beyond sleeping. I expect a positive outcome but believe it will not come easy. We've got a few more months of this so I'm digging in.