I have never really had a grown up bedroom. When I lived with my parents, it was all baby pink walls and Gareth Gates posters (I was young!). Then, upon moving in with James, there was little time or energy to decorate our bedroom. It was filled with baby things and we were happy - the babies were always our priority anyway. Our first home also housed an impossible stair case around which very little could be maneuvered; even our double divan had to be sawn in half and then reattached once in our bedroom.
When we moved from flat to house, the bedroom was fine, it was clean and decorated perfectly adequately. We had to share this room with my teenage stepson, who utilised it at weekends. Therefore, it never really felt like the adult haven it was supposed to be.
After the house, we spent four months just feeling fortunate that we had somewhere to sleep, nevermind anything more frivolous.
Now, the bed (okay, futon) we share is located in what was, for a while, the children's playroom. However, we have come to realise that they do not need a playroom right now. They are perfectly happy with their shared bedroom and our family lounge. This is not our forever home, by any stretch of the imagination, it is our today home; for however long today turns out to be.
So it is that we have found ourselves with a bedroom again. A whole room. One that needs decorating, quite urgently. And I have plans.
I am looking at Moroccan-style influences, rich colours, red walls, candles; lights, drapes, chimes, incense. I would like a space to read, and somewhere to be still; a place for James to meditate. I want the furniture to be dark, wooden and solid; rustic. I am hoping it will be perfect.
Something of a sensory bedroom, a place James and I can enjoy once the children are sleeping.
A grown up space.
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