What Mia's room looks like and why I don't care.

This is what my daughter's room looks like all the time:

It's a friggin' disaster zone. But, it's her disaster zone and I do my best to never set foot in it. (Mostly, for fear that I might physically injure myself)

 But I will tell you, when Mia's room looks like this is when she is the happiest. Because it means she's in the {creative} zone. And when she's in the zone, she can't be stopped. Not for food, not for sleep, not for anything.

Ok, I will admit that the food, particularly the four-day-old crusted over fruit dip, is a little concerning.

 Well, and maybe the razor blade knife and hot glue gun are sending off a few alarm bells.

But, seriously, I have given up control of this. It isn't worth it. This girl lives in a different world than me. A world that I don't understand all that much about, except that she has to go there. And when she's not there, she doesn't feel normal.

This used to give me a panic attack, and if I look at it too long, it will make me curl into the fetal position, rock back and forth, and cry for my mother. But this is a room where all kinds of masterpieces are created, fanciful stories are written, sticks are turned into a miniature city for mice (who, for all I know, actually live in her room and feast on strawberries and ding dongs), little brothers are read to, and when the creative juices are all used up for the day, sleep comes very, very late into the night.