Mom Cave



Ok, fine, this is Disneyland.
But to me my Mom Cave is almost
as exciting.

 As you are no doubt aware, there is a recent phenomenon called "man caves" in the world.  They are rooms where men can put and do manly type things.  The concept isn't anything new, certainly, but the name is.  Man caves on the whole upset me because I am jealous--I want a room with those things typically thought to be in such rooms.  And last I checked, I wasn't a dude.  Big TVs, great sound systems, sporting goods/ memorabelia and even the occasional bars deck out a typical man cave.  Not to mention comfy furniture.  Sounds awesome to me.

On the whole, I like the idea of man caves.  They're thought to be places where guys can get away and be guys.  Get away from what, you may ask.  Well, truthfully, get away from their families.  And while this may sound harsh, I totally get it.  Kids tend to overrun the house.  And, typically, women tend to oversee the overrunning.  So having a place where you don't have to worry about stepping on toy trucks, or where the channel isn't permanently set on Phineas and Ferb is sort of a necessity in life.  If you are going to be sane, I say it's your best bet.  Which is why I have created a mom cave.

We have a cabin in our backyard.  It is used primarily for storage--I have a LOT of crap.  And so when we came here, into the cabin went various pieces of furniture and artwork that wouldn't fit into the house.  I decided a few days ago to put those to good use.  And so, part of the cabin is now dedicated to my mom cave.  And it's heaven.  There is a mini desk, some tables, a love seat, some chairs and lamps.  I set up a radio last night and, blissfully, I turned it up to almost full volume.  Because I could.  The (ack) sewing machine is plugged in full time, and there are magazines on the table.  And I don't have to worry about any of the above being knocked to the ground by the man of the house (because he can).  I love my mom cave.

Here's the deal--this whole concept sounds insane to me.  This is my house.  Theoretically.  But in practice, it's my son's.  Every night I drag toy after toy into the playroom.  Carefully, I pick up anything that I brought out to entertain myself, because first thing in the morning, he will be checking it out and, most likely, destroying it.  Again, because he can.  So having my own space that is mine (particularly as an only child) has seriously saved my sanity.  So I vote seek out a tiny corner of the world and make it yours.  And make it lock.  Mom caves for all! 

Now all I need is the bar....