Our kitchen is tiny. It’s a closet-y galley kitchen that comes off the dining alcove. I’ve complained about it for months (a year?). It’s small. No windows. I can’t see my kids play while I’m in the kitchen. It gets so hot.
But I’ve noticed something lately about this tiny kitchen of ours. I’ve found myself retreating to it. Sometimes, I notice myself standing in the kitchen even when there is isn’t any work to do. Why am I spending time in there voluntarily, when I profess to dislike it so much? I think that it’s because, like a middle-schooler with a crush, I secretly like our kitchen-cave.
Not only does it represent something that brings me so much joy–cooking for myself and my family–but it also can be a little sanctuary. Sometimes I need to step out of sight of my kids and pretend to be alone, for a couple minutes, to recharge and be ready to be mom again.
So, thank you, kitchen cave. I think I do like you after all…