7 Aug
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The Great Bedroom Swap

I stood in Menards looking down a long aisle of shelving possibilities wondering why I was even at a home improvement store. The day started with the sole intention of moving one bed from the spare bedroom to the tween’s room. I was looking for shelving while the basement at home was filled with multiple dismantled bed frames and a dresser stood smack-dab in the middle of the upstairs hallway waiting to make the journey downstairs.

This is exactly why I don’t want to start projects. I can’t simply do one thing. One thing becomes another and then another and then I’m at Menards ruminating over the best brackets for bookshelves. Our oldest was on a camping trip last weekend, so we erased the schedule for Saturday and decided to surprise him by moving the full-sized bed from the spare room to his bedroom. He was sleeping on a raised captain’s bed which, in his ever-morphing near-teenager body, he was beginning to dwarf.

white bookwshelves lined with young adult books

We were fully enmeshed in the project when our 10-year-old mentioned how excited he was to have his own bedroom. Wait, what? Months ago we mentioned that if he wanted to have his own bedroom he could move into the spare room. He was occupying the top bunk with our 8-year-old sleeping on the bottom bunk in the room they shared. J was not interested in going solo but assured us he’d let us know. Apparently, the moving of one bed looked like the perfect time to assume your parents, who are not mind-readers, were aware you now wanted your own room. At least he told us then, instead of the next day after we had put the house back together. That’s normally how my life works withe these children.

I was afraid our youngest son would be hurt by losing his roommate, but he was ecstatic to gain the top bunk. I was the one who struggled emotionally…shocking, I know. They just keep morphing, changing and chugging along. This growing thing is counted as one of my greatest blessings that I’m given a front row seat and that they are healthy and given the gift of thriving. But I’m also known to throw tantrums at how absurdly fast these years fly.

boy sitting on a captain's bed reading a book

The one bed project turned into: two beds being swapped, loads of sheets washed, one mattress switch with a third bed, a dresser that weighs hundreds of pounds moved, shelves bought, shelving system hung, etc. There were chairs moved, a sizable snow globe collection relocated, more shelves moved from one room to another, etc. It’s never-ending. I still have a list of things to buy including more shelves, curse our love of books, and a bulletin board. There’s also the furniture and wall-hangings that I like but our 10-year-old doesn’t and were banished from my spare room/his new room that need to be relocated. Heaven knows I can’t just get rid of them like suggested by numerous people in the house. I’m glad they each have their own space to use as a retreat, and it seems to spread the noise level more evenly throughout the house.

This project was really life imitating art in the form of one of our favorite children’s books, “If You Give a Mouse a Cookie,” and it’s various sequels by Laura Numeroff. If you give me a project, it will consume the entire house and it’s occupants and eventually I end up at Menards.

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