This is why I get 2 rooms and the kids only get one ... to share

We moved the bedrooms in our Tennessee house around this week.

Here is the view of my new office.

The old office had a view of the inside of the laundry closet because my old office was actually IN the inside of the laundry closet.

Over the summer I switched jobs and suddenly needed to be on webcam quite often. Before the first meeting I panicked all morning and eventually figured out a decoy to cover my washer and dryer and the stray facets coming out of the walls. Here is how the disguise worked -- I nailed a large painting of Venice up on the wall IN FRONT of my "desk" so I could get to it with easier access. Then I raided all the table linens that I never use but that are still starched from when I inherited them a decade ago, and I covered the washer and then the dryer and then rolled each table cloth back up on to the top of the machine so I could still use said machines. It was all ready.  And so right before that first meeting, I cued the cloths to roll down the top and side of the appliances, and I stood up and used my entire arm span to grab the picture from the wall and place it strategically on the washer to cover the detergent, the outlets, the facets and the controls. I finished things off with a student success magic 8 ball I got at a team meeting 3 years ago, and that was that. A facade fit for a teacher.

But -- shocker -- this wasn't going to work long term. I teach a 2 hour course on webcam, and I need to be able to move around a bit. BUT more importantly it occurred to me very deep in my bones that a self imposed injustice was being done. I allow my kids to overrun two big bedrooms in our 3 bedroom house -- and then I sit all day in a closet. It's not right. I deserve more. Why do we hide my work in a closet? There might have been practical reasons at first. I spent many years acting like a stay at home mom while still working full time. I liked it this way. I used to  squeeze the work week into 2 and half days (and into a deserted corner of the house) so I could emerge a few days later and go back to only being a parent. That worked with little kids. They only notice how many times you walk away -- not how long you are gone. But this doesn't work with older kids, and as I grow, it doesn't work for me.

My job has provided beautifully for this family. It has funded our crazy adventures and identity crises. It has satisfied me and excited me and helped me feel grounded. My job is a part of this family and deserves more than a closet. A working mom is a gift -- a strong, capable woman is a gift -- I  stand tall and strong and proud. And I deserve more. I deserve to give myself my. To take more.

So I evicted two children out of their pigsty. Then I committed to the fact that the only person who likes hanging out in a closet is actually the baby who has a crib in one and giggles at nap time. So the closet is now the 1 yea old's official bedroom, and the three girls are all shacked up.

I moved into the office yesterday, and this morning I got to change the laundry without an office chair digging into my lower back. And now I start my first day of work in a truly dedicated home office in the middle of the house where everyone can see and understand and hope and dream and work and care and grow and become -- from mom's example.