Small spaces, big goals.

Every morning my little goddesses say “what can we do?” “where are we going today?” “we’re bored.” And every afternoon for about an hour and a half my little goddesses go to the wild. They fight, scream and cry until I lose my shit and separate them. But in a two-bedroom unit, there aren’t a lot of places to send them where they can’t annoy each other just by breathing. 

In spring I can send one out to the balcony, but in summer it’s too hot out there and anyhow you can’t breathe for the smoke. I can send one to their room, but they always see that as a punishment, even though that’s where the toys are. Inevitably I’ll end up with one kid in the kitchen, pestering me with questions and I won’t remember anything I learned from online writing classes that day.

Generally, I don’t consider the children’s boredom to be my problem. It’s good for children to be bored because that makes them resourceful. But I can also see that there’s no reason for it. They have loads of activities they can do if they don’t want to play with toys.

But of course, they only think of doing those activities when I’m elbow-deep in mushroom sauce, and they’re expecting me to set up the paints or get the slime down from the high shelf or dig Lego out of the cupboard. And so they don’t get those experiences, pissing their time up the wall.

Three weeks into the school holidays, they’re desperate for a break from each other, and I’m desperate for a solution. Making space without being able to add on a room or gain access to the roof is a daunting task.

Luckily spaces for small children don’t need to be large or perfect. They like cosy and their imaginations turn the dodgy into the divine. Old Brumby and I sat down and brainstormed all their activities and how we could create space for independence. 

Here’s what we came up with:

Behind the children’s bookshelf. I’d been storing suitcases back there, and hadn’t considered the space because it would give the kids access to the back of a computer, a power board, and who knows what else that my husband is hiding under his desk. Enter, this big broken down play tent. For zero dollars.

Tangent: I live nearby a big charity bin, but the locals don’t recognise it as a charity bin, or they don’t recognise that those who need charity are actual people who deserve quality goods and dignity. The amount of absolute trash that winds up over there is insane. This tent… nobody would buy it. It’s torn and faded, the screens over the windows are ripped. Nor could you give it to someone in good conscience, it’s too far gone. But it is good enough to keep the kids from electrocuting themselves, and my cat really likes it. I put the Playdoh and slime in there.

So we pulled the bookshelf another foot forward, slid the tent in behind, and now we have two play stations in the space we used to have just one. The children can’t see each other, can’t touch each other, and if Artemis is listening to her audiobooks with headphones on, they can’t hear each other either. Perfect.

Another easy way to make space and structure for us has been to give each kid their own bed tent. Bast and Elen have actual bed tents, but the middle child traditionally gets the short stick. She’s on the bottom bunk, so in this instance I just hung curtains from the bed above using curtain wire. An old sheet makes half-way decent curtains. She was impressed.

Another thing we noticed was that Arty had barely any room on her bed to actually sleep. She has 50 blankets even in summer, lots of stuffies, her jewellery, her lego, her favourite colouring book… everything she doesn’t want the other girls getting into she has to keep on her bed. Fine. I culled the random rocks (or chunks of concrete) and lego, and installed cloth shelves to help with the rest. Now she can actually find her things.

All the art stuff was being kept in an open-topped box under the desk (where the suitcases now live) so I moved the colouring-in books and pencils to the shelf behind the lounge. I’m hoping the kids will sit on the lounge to colour instead of spreading themselves all over the carpet, but I’m probably just dreaming.

Lego, beading, planning and puzzles all have a place now. I’ve even given the older kids a comfy recliner in my bedroom where they can do their big-girl activity books, safely behind a closed door where Elen won’t think to look (at least at first).

And I did the big scary thing. I put the paints where the children can use them independently. They don’t need to ask, they can paint rocks or pictures whenever the mood strikes, and the clean up isn’t on me. But I’m trusting them to set up properly; to protect the tiles and take off their party dresses. And, you know, to not get up at 6 am and paint the bedroom walls. Pray for me.

So there’s some ramble that I’m going to look back on and be like “this was my life?!” Yep, this is what passes for excitement and achievement here, and while there are still a few bits and pieces waiting for me to put away or toss, I’m happy at the peace our new setup has afforded me.

If you’ve got bright ideas for kid spaces and activities, I would love to hear them, too. At they grow I’m going to need more and more in my toolbox to keep up. Thanks again for being with me on this journey xx

Miriam Cumming is the author of two young adult fantasy novels featuring diverse Wiccan characters. When she’s not getting Playdoh out from between her toes or working on her next release, Miriam likes to go to bed early and have anxious thoughts.