Last Updated on May 2, 2025 by Marybeth
The guest rooms of our little beach bungalow have shape-shifted numerous times over the years out of necessity but also on a whim (or five.) In the beginning we couldn’t wait to rip out all evidence of someone else’s ideas and paint a large swath of our own better and more fun ones. One such life for one of these bedrooms was the Shipwrecked Bunk Bedroom.
Out of the five, I think the Shipwrecked Bunk Bedroom was the most inspired. “Dang we were clever back then!” I can’t help but think, as I notice we’ve toned ourselves down. Is it age? Is it because now that we have actual grandbabies the thought of bunk beds looming high above diamond-hard terrazzo floors brings the worst type of nightmares?
It’s like being shut up in a darkened, hurricane-proofed house for days, tearing into the prepper snack hoard immediately after the last shutter goes up and there is only one thin slice of slider door exposed so you can take the dog outside to do her business. No one (except your understanding, forgiving spouse) will know that you’re snacking day and night while escaping into the fiction you’ve downloaded on your Kindle in case you lose power – which of course, you do.
For me, the antidote to hurricane anxiety is not drugs or alcohol (well, okay, a little bit of alcohol) but traveling to another world via a good book.
Then the storm passes, the sun comes out, and there is a ton of yard work to do. Your body feels horrible – way too many tortilla chips and jarred queso that looks like plastic, and not enough activity, and you think “What in the hell was I thinking, falling off the health wagon that way??” and you return to your (mostly) sensible, wise self who eats right 85% of the time and forces herself to work out five days a week.
We thought having bunk beds would be so great! And it was great. When Mom and Dad were still alive and able to visit from Maryland, we needed extra beds for our grown kids to all gather here to spend time with Grammy and Poppy, and the bunks provided all we needed. Our Shipwrecked theme was funny and really cool, in our opinion. We wanted to show the world – and we did, here:
From Granny Guest Room to Shipwrecked Kids’ Bunk Room
“Our someday-grandchildren will LOVE this room!” we exclaimed. And then our first one was born; Ellis. And now little sister Rhoda is here. And the thought of either of them falling off the top bunk sends me clear and permanently around the bend. If you’re a grandparent, you know. The responsibility of caring for someone else’s child, who is so dear to you you’d sell your soul, is huger than the comparable universe.
So we took down the bunk beds, put in an office for ourselves and made the one remaining bed and some shelves into Ellis and Rhoda’s own space at Wawee and Pop’s house. Sensible, and safe. The right thing to do, and maybe not quite as fun as the Shipwrecked Bunk Bedroom, but is fun the most important thing these days? It is, just about – fun comes right after safe.
Sifting through the photos of the Shipwrecked Bunkroom made me nostalgic, to be honest. That was a cool stage in this little bedroom’s life. Probably its best self. See what you think.
Cleaner lines, lighter spring-like colors, and more minimalist is the direction we’ve been traveling in these days for our surroundings. No longer themey. Another confession: writing this article has made me miss my themey self. Loss (my parents, my brother), friends facing serious health challenges, and the swift passage of time have taken away some lightheartedness and frivolity. There is no getting those bunk beds back, or our younger selves.
But cutting through my wistfulness is the joy of being able to provide a bright and welcoming room that our granddaughters can call their own. A safe haven. We’ve already made so many memories here: much hilarity, make-believe play for hundreds of hours (“Pretend like you’re the bad guy and I’m the police,” and “You be Anna, Sven, Olaf, Kristoff, and the bad guy, and I’ll be Elsa”), many books read, deep conversations as Ellis lies beside me fighting sleep. I’m looking forward to when Rhoda doesn’t need her mommy quite so much and can join in the Wawee sleepovers.
I am now rethinking which version is this room’s best self.
If you’d like to see more of rooms we’ve regenerated, you might like:
One Beach Cottage Bedroom Reinvented Four Times: From Kitsch to Calm, and All the In Between.
If you’re here for Florida travel tips, thanks for reading through to this point. And you might like:
