Whilst Crosby was away on his annual weeklong school sleep-away camp, I had the crazy idea, "Maybe an 11 year-old should have his own bed."
It's hard to give-up creepy, snuggle, sleep photo-ops but motherhood demands sacrifice.
As is my nature, I sketched up some elaborate plan that included what I will call the "Narnia door" whereby Crosby would enter through a hole cut-out through the closet. Paul, in his wisdom, suggested a much simpler version. We moved the huge Ikea Pax closet from the wall to the middle of the room to create a second "room" for Crosby.
You might notice that sweet robot shelf with eyes to the left. Paul thought having a shelf next to my desk would help with organization. #neurotypical But, just look how much fun we had bringing it home:
At this point, I figured I should stop bugging Paul and bring in our Berlin Uncle
Andrew. It turned out to be excellent timing, because the box bike has its limits and Andrew has a Miles Van Rental Account.
Andrew and I bike/walked the bookshelf. Hauling the bunk required a van.
My adoring fans are asking, tell me more about that fortress:
We found a use for flat sheets and entertained the kids for 30 minutes.
The real crowning glory is this before:
Jokes. Crosby's room needs some TLC. Actually mostly just a bed frame. I'm done with Ikea junk and kind of lost steam looking on Kleinanzeige (Craigslist equivalent). So, it might be fall when Crosby's room officially comes together. Today I added a little art work to his room to replace the feminine profile in our 'before' set-up.
The idea of writing the kids' baby dedication verse on some of their art work came to me during one of my ADHD med induced insomnia sessions. However, it turns out Hugo doesn't have a verse. #middlechild We'll just start with Crosby.
And last but not least, our latest downstairs upgrade.
Is it a baseball mit or a clam? Whatever it is, it isn't Ikea.
2 Comments:
xoxo
DTJ
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