It takes a village. Or maybe a newsletter?
Each month, we'll bring the best stories from parents on raising their CBC Kids. | | | BY RASHDA MUNAWAR | Her room made me twitch.
Books were piled high on her bedside table — some open, some bookmarked, all well-loved. Glitter glue, stickers and tiny paper cuttings dotted the carpet like confetti from a craft party.
Every few days, I’d offer a gentle but pointed reminder: "You really need to tidy this up.”
She’d nod. “OK, Mama.” But days would pass, and the room would remain … lived in. Bursting with paper, colour, ideas and personality.
I’m not someone who needs every sock folded and labeled, but I do appreciate a little structure, mainly so I don’t trip over it. So, when her room looked more like a craft tornado than a bedroom, I’d wonder if it was harmless chaos or something I should rein in. | | | As a mom, educator and children’s author, I often advocate for growth mindset, reminding kids (and sometimes adults) that mistakes and messes are part of learning. But somehow, I didn’t apply that same lens to my daughter’s room.
I saw the piles, the scattered bits of paper, the books stacked everywhere — and assumed it needed fixing. I didn’t realize that this was her version of growing in real time.
One afternoon, while she was at school, I walked in determined to finally sort it out. But before I picked anything up, I sat on her bed for a moment and that’s when I noticed it.
Taped gently to the bedpost was a tiny, handmade paper box. Inside were several folded notes in her handwriting, each one a quiet little bedtime message to herself:
“Sweet dreams.”
“You’re doing your best.”
“Just keep going.”
“You’re safe here.” | | | "The clutter wasn’t laziness. It was life. This space wasn’t neglected. It was loved." | | | They weren’t assigned or prompted. They were just hers. A self-soothing ritual she had created, quietly, because it made her feel grounded.
It stopped me in my tracks.
Suddenly, I began seeing the room not as a mess, but as a story. A sketch of a horse in progress, it’s shading carefully blended. Books open to the same pages, reread like old friends. Crayons sorted by shade. A sticky note on the wall that simply said, “You got this.”
The clutter wasn’t laziness. It was life. This space wasn’t neglected. It was loved. It was a reflection of someone still learning, still growing. Someone who thinks, feels, creates and processes in her own beautiful way. | | | More to watch this summer | | | | | | | That night, after she fell asleep, I wrote my own message and tucked it into her box: “You are loved — just as you are.”
When she found it, her eyes lit up. And just like that, our own tiny tradition began of quiet notes passed between mother and daughter, in a little paper box, in a not-so-tidy room.
Since then, I still ask her to clean up … eventually. But I ask with a softer tone, and a deeper understanding.
Because sometimes, mess isn’t the enemy.
Sometimes, it’s creativity in progress.
Sometimes, it’s a space becoming a self.
And sometimes, when you stop trying to “fix” the chaos, you find something beautiful was unfolding there all along. | | |  | | Rashda Munawar is a mom of three, a high school teacher and a children’s author passionate about helping kids build a growth mindset. Her debut picture book Think Big uses fun characters to show children how to turn “I can’t” into “I’ll try.” You can learn more about her work and resources for parents at her website. | | | | Share this newsletter | | or subscribe if this was
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