Several months ago I wrote a blog entitled Her Place. The subject was my daughter's room and how it reflects who she is. I was inspired to write that piece after I went into her room to put away some laundry after we had been apart for a few days. For some reason, I tend to linger in her bedroom when she is not with me and I want to feel closer to her. Today's entry arose from a similar muse.
I was tidying up her room before she arrived so that everything was ready for her. I like to arrange her stuffed animals, fold her nightgown, and just straighten things up. The arrangement of her room and how she uses that space caused me to think about my own room as a child. My room really was an escape chute to a different world, a place to retreat and hide away. For many reasons, I spent a lot of time in there. Whether I was toiling away on my schoolwork, listening to the radio (music or the Red Sox game on my AM radio), playing my baseball board game, or just hiding out from the world, my room was a much more active place in my life compared to how my daughter uses her room. Really the only time my daughter is in her room is when she's in bed or getting ready for bed. I don't know if this has to do with the times we live in and the technology that is available now that didn't exist then, or if it is more about the differences between us or the differences in the household atmosphere that are present.
I once read a comic of two dads talking to each other about their children. The one dad was saying that his children's rooms had computers, phones, televisions, stereos, and lots of board games. He then said that when he wanted to punish his children, he sent them to his own room.