I have some sad news to report: The current Makearoo HQ will soon be no more.

This news is really only a bit sad–more like bittersweet–for me. This doesn’t affect the way you and I will interact going forward, nor does it impact Camp Makearoo or any other offerings I’ve got up my sleeve for Makearoo. No changes, voluntary or otherwise, come without lessons, and I’d like to share a couple of stories about what this move is teaching me.

Regular readers know that my dad passed away suddenly at the end of May. A while after that, my mom and I had a conversation about whether she thought she should remain in their sizable three-bedroom-plus-home-office home, get a smaller apartment for her and my brother (who has Down Syndrome), or move in with us. I told her–having already decided on this, along with my husband, with a clear mind and heart) that she was welcome to live with us, and that I wanted her to be happy and feel secure wherever she decided to live. A few days later, she called and said she didn’t think she should live alone. Mom is legally blind and cannot drive, and if something happened to her while at home all day alone or with only my brother with her, we’re not sure she could get help in time.

So our family of five is about to become a family of seven. Turns out our current minivan fits all of us. I really like that.

At first, Mom wanted to build a suite in our half-unfinished basement/family room. We were all for it, but fire codes conspired against us. Same with making an attic bedroom and moving the boys up there. The only remaining option was for my mom and brother to take our guest bedroom and the only remaining bedroom left in the house: Makearoo HQ. As with our minivan, our house can currently hold all of us, thankfully. Mom took the news with grace and quickly started on Plan B, showing me exactly from where my backbone originates. I will confess to having a quiet, three-minute cry over losing my home office, and then I got to work on Plan B as well. There’s room in our bedroom, right between our big bay windows that overlook our lovely back yard and give a fantastic amount of light. I’m all about the light in any given space, particularly for working. I realized that I really only used about half of my office anyway and with the work I’m blessed to do, I don’t need a lot of space.

Another cool thing that happened came from my realization that I needed a new and much smaller desk. I looked online for exactly the one I wanted–one that was just like my table in my current office, but with a keyboard tray. The ones I liked were about $400 and I didn’t want to spend $400. I also didn’t want to spend hours going the Craigslist/garage sale/thrift store route. Then one afternoon, I rolled my office chair up to the table in my office–something I’d never thought to do before. The height was PERFECT. (Can I get both an ‘Amen!’ and a ‘DERP!’?) I don’t even need a keyboard tray. Funny how just what you need is so often right under your nose.

I loved my home office. I made it uniquely mine. I had fun with that process, and I had fun working there. I painted it the color of my bird Ozzie’s belly. I spent hours painting that magnetic chalk board wall (Pro Tip Based On Hours of Painting: Skip the magnetic part and just do the chalkboard part, as the magnetic paint is very gloppy/messy and doesn’t work very well anyway.) I had big dreams of a cozy reading corner where the current pile of “Stuff We’re Not Sure About” resides. I loved bird and squirrel watching from my window and being steps from our magnificent deck. But the tradeoff–security and home and comfort for my family–is so worth it. I will create a new cozy space upstairs in my bedroom. I will paint it the color of my budgie Ozzie’s belly. Maybe chalkboard paint will happen somewhere there, too. I will have fun with it. We will open our home and our hearts to our family, and I will do the work I was born to do wherever and whenever I can.