8 / matters magazine / home&garden 2018 READ & RECYLE Featuring Local People, Places and Things that Matter Since 1990 Please address all correspondence to: Visual Impact Advertising, Inc.© P.O Box 198 Maplewood, NJ 07040 973-763-4900 mattersmagazine.com MattersHello@gmail.com MattersMagazine©isownedandpublished by Visual Impact Advertising, Inc., P.O. Box 198 Maplewood, NJ 07040. Matters Magazineisfree,witheditionsdirectmailed 7timesayeartotheresidentsofMaplewood and South Orange and distributed to busi- nesses and surrounding communities total- ing 15,000. Subscriptions are available to non-residents for $30 (U.S.) $40 (Foreign) annually. No part of the publication may be reprinted or otherwise reproduced without written permission from Visual Impact Advertising, Inc. CIRCULATION VERIFIED BY U.S. POSTAL RECEIPTS. Matters PUBLISHER & EDITOR IN CHIEF Ellen Donker ASSOCIATE EDITOR Joanne DiPasquale ADVERTISING CONSULTANTS Rene Conlon H. Leslie Gilman Adrienne MacWhannell COPY EDITORS Nick Humez Tia Swanson CONTRIBUTORS Lyman Dally, Malia Rulon Herman, Laura Janney, Donny Levit, Frank Verderosa, Julia Maloof Verderosa FOUNDER & CREATIVE CONTRIBUTOR Karen Duncan heart of the matter O ne of the happiest days of my childhood was when I got my own bedroom. Our family had just moved from a split-level home with three bedrooms to a new five-bedroom colonial. I was in heaven. As the youngest of three children, I had shared a bed- room with my sister for the first nine years of my life. Lau- ren played the part of the older sister to a tee and made it known that I was that annoying sibling she’d rather not be bothered by. She called everything first, way before I knew there was anything worth calling. A four-year age difference really put me at a disadvantage. For example, whenever we took a family vacation, my sister would call the best seat in the car. (Read: I got stuck in the middle.) And when we arrived at our motel, she always called it that she would be the one to “sign in” with my father and pick up the room key. She was that far ahead of me. When it came time to know the facts of life, she felt it her duty to reveal them to me. All I could do was laugh, which frustrated her endlessly. I was SO immature! Our brother, who was between us, escaped most of the sibling competition. He simply had no interest. Although I was sad to leave my elementary school and our neighborhood where everyone had the same floor plan and we could ride our bikes endlessly through the sub- urban streets, the allure of my own room was enough to make it worthwhile. There I could pursue whatever silly things I wanted and not have my sister call me out for each uncool infraction. Since it was a new house, my mother let me choose my own wallpaper and carpeting (pink shag, of course – this was the '70s!). My father, ever the artist, made a sign on poster board with bubble letters that read “Sugar & Spice and Everything Nice” and hung it above my bed. When I had my own children, the three of them began life together in the same crib, positioned sideways to fit. After a month or so they needed their own space and were put in separate cribs. But it wasn’t until they were two that I moved Madeline to her own room and kept the boys to- gether. I remember Christian crying during the first nap he took without her in the room. The boys stayed in the same bedroom until they were 14 or so. I always loved hearing them review their day with each other after the lights had been turned out. Seeing them get along so well in the same space helped me un- derstand the benefit of siblings sharing a bedroom. But the time came when Timmy asked if he could move his room to our empty third floor and I agreed. I got it – he was get- ting older and wanted his own space to be alone. For my sister and me, it took until adulthood to grow close. Somewhere in our 20s, we both ended up in the same apartment complex. Not as roommates – we still weren’t the room-sharing type – but as neighbors. By then we had entered that phase when the vast divide of four years was immaterial and we could see the other as a person as well as a sibling. I guess it’s the natural progression of life within a family: always balancing the need to be together as well as apart. As a parent, I sometimes wonder why one of my kids is spending so much time in their room. But if they’re like me, who still needs my own space, then chances are they’re just reflecting and relaxing and pursuing their silly pastimes much as I did in that first room of my own. A Space of My Own Fond memories of my childhood bedroom BY ELLEN DONKER