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We all know that a teenager's room is a disaster area--it's a comic convention. Which doesn't mean it's funny.

Pony's room had gotten unmanageable. I couldn't get in to get the laundry hamper. I couldn't get in to deliver clean laundry. Pony couldn't find anything to wear on Sunday. I went in to help her and twisted my ankle! It was time for action.

So, while the rest of the Evils were at church, I took on the project.

Realize that we have a small (but charming!) house. It's a late 19th century farmhouse within the city limits--back then, this was countryside. Mr. Sweetie and I bought the house back when it was just the two of us and two little dogs. We had absolutely no plans to have children.

Then we had children.

Which was fine and wonderful and all the positive and negative things parenting is. But suddenly the guest bedroom was going to be for a permanent guest.

Back in the early 90s, my decorating style was all about Laura Ashley/Victorian. Lots of pink, frankly. The guest room was painted a pale yellow (Benjamin Moore "Pearly Gates" IIRC), with a floral wallpaper border from Laura Ashley. We put the family heirloom three-quarter bed (handmade cherry four-poster) in there, with a blue and white quilt. The dresser is also "antique"--possibly from the 1940s. It was terrifically charming. After the crib went into the Bunny's room, all the dark wood antiques went back in. And Pony, being little, had no say.

As time passed, things accumulated. I added some inexpensive white storage from Target--drawers, shelves, etc., to hold books, art projects, science presentations. The baby art remained on the walls as well--a lovely print of sheep and lambs in blues and greys; a Morrisot growth chart; a classic Pooh picture. Again, none of it Pony's choice.

So yesterday, I started moving things. Out. Out of her room. I thought I might just tidy up, get her started, but I quickly realized what you must realize by now: a kid almost in high school doesn't really want to keep all this stuff. But, she also probably doesn't want to be the one to decide to get rid of it. A sentimental dilemma. So I made part of the decision for her, and just took everything out.

Everything off the walls.

Everything on the shelves.

All the shelves.

All the stuff that was displayed, or stacked, or tucked into corners---all of it out.

I left the bed and the dresser. After all, she did need a place to sleep.

And when she came home and saw the newly naked room--she was really excited and happy! Because she had never even imagined her room being such a blank slate. A couple of times during the day she announced "I'm going up into my empty room."

It didn't take her long to decide--she wanted to make her room Asian. I think she may want to keep the bed and the dresser, but everything else is not going back in. She's not ready to part with it all yet--that's what a basement is for, I guess. It is, however, a major step for the kid who never wanted anything to change.

First item of business? I think maybe we will change the Peter Rabbit light switch.