... a room to play in, to mess up in, to listen to music in, and occasionally to sleep in.
Joe-Henry has, until yesterday been afraid to play alone by himself anywhere in the house, which means that he and his things are always underfoot. It also means that he can't have any privacy from my prying mommy ears.
But yesterday there was a miracle. I'm not sure what brought it about, it just happened.
He went into his room to look for something and didn't come out. When I went to check on him half an hour later, he was listening to music and playing with his globe and drawing and cutting out these little signs, which went up all over the door. I was so happy for him. It meant he wasn't afraid, he was comfortable and content and happy and engaged. It also meant that I had some uninterrupted time to look at the manual for my camera and fill out the rest of a lengthy job application.
I love these pictures of him and his room. I love that it's a mess. I love him. So much.