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This is Their Space

This is Their Space

This is Their Space

This is their space.
The furniture is mismatched and has been through several moves,
But it holds everything they need to use their imaginations and make new discoveries.
This is their space.

This is their space.
I offered to get them a new, fluffy rug to sit on and be comfortable.
They replied, “No, Mom. What would we use for our runway? We need our map.”
This is their space.

This is their space. 
Sure there are books and microscopes, but there are toys, too.
Because children learn through play and right now, their job is to be children.
This is their space.

This is their space.
There is no matching color pallet and the lighting isn’t great for flat-lay shots.
The walls hold their artwork and memories from friends far away.
This is their space.

This is their space.
It is cluttered and messy and totally out of my comfort zone; I don’t last more than a few minutes here without putting something away.
But if I pick up something that is “out of place,” I’ve ruined the hangar, the launch pad, the racetrack-so I take a deep breath and try really hard to appreciate their creations.
This is their space.

This is their space.
I hear a lot of arguing coming from this room. I’m called to play referee often.
I also hear a lot of conspiring and cooperation. A lot of great ideas float down the hallway from this room to the kitchen, where I listen with a grin on my face.
This is their space.

This is their space.
This is where they grow, play, hug, hit.
Write, draw, tinker, discover, explore.
Hide and seek, create and destroy.
This is where they learn.
This is where they laugh.
This is where they live.
This is where they love.
This is their space.

This is Their Space





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