What if we moved the loveseat to the sunroom? What if we moved the bookcase to the basement? What if we moved the green couch to the living room?

Kevin, will you help me move this coffee table? Kevin, will you help me switch the kitchen and dining room tables? Kevin, will you help me move Brigid’s bed to Bethy’s room?

Katie shared a room with Bethy. Katie moved out and moved in with Brendan. Brendan moved created a room in the basement (until he got spooked).Brigid moved in with Katie. Kevin moved to the floor of the hall closet (just for a couple of nights as a toddler). Brendan moved back upstairs. Bethy moved to the basement, never to share a room with a sibling again.

Our kids grew up rearranging – furniture, books, rooms, toys, stuff. They switched bedrooms on a regular basis, swapping furniture and changing roommates. Each child has shared a room with someone else for some period of time.

I loved that rearranging kept them busy, and it helped them clean out their rooms. Each summer, they sold their wares at the annual neighborhood garage sale, and I loved to listen to them collaborate, negotiate, and create. To me, the constant change made perfect sense.

For Tim, it was insanity. He was never quite sure where his chair would be when he got home from work. He once said, “If I was Helen Keller, I’d be dead.”

 Visions of Dick Van Dyke flipping over his ottoman come to my mind.

I tried to explain to Tim that rearranging furniture is in my DNA. When I was a kid, I’d come home from school to discover – what was to me – a new house. My mom even managed to move our piano from room to room while we were at school – all by herself.  She’s my inspiration.

Two weeks before Kevin left for college, he entered the family room, looked around, and said, “Mom, you better figure this out before I leave for DePaul.”

Instead, we sold the house.