Aunt Patty Cake is pitted against her nemesises (nemisi?) -- spellcheck says: nemeses! -- in the battle for organizational dominance. Her nemeses would be pretty much all of the permanent inhabitants of the Castle. Plus GMK, who left some little parting gifts of storage joy.
Yesterday's project was APC's amazing trade-out of the abominable gray computer cart for a sleek, chromatic motif-adhering computer desk. Whee!
Many dust bunnies gave their lives in this battle of good vs. allergen.
Hey, meanwhile, I fixed the caster on the chair! (It required one to line up the new caster with a metal rod and push in). And...I replaced the slats on Tim's bed with less deluxe but allegedly indestructible ones.
Look over here, world, I'm helping!!
But of greater intrigue was the "how":
We spent the bulk of our respite-free weekend researching options on the 'net and scouring the 2009 IKEA catalogue.
Entering IKEA shortly after it opened on Monday, the two Kinsella gals made rapid-fire buying decisions that would put the US armed forces to shame. There! Not there! (Of course, APC is the quintessential field marshal, keeping her eye on the mission and rejecting my State Dept.-type inclination to engage with the environment -- meaning look for things not on the List).
We got through the check-out and were faced with the very real, very sobering realization that there was NO WAY that all our purchases could fit in the minivan with Bebe's seat installed. Since I wasn't game for strapping her to the van roof, we opted to pay a small fee for home delivery for several bulkier items.
After we (meaning a yellow-shirted employee of the aforementioned retailer and I)loaded the van, however, we (APC mostly) realized we'd picked up 4-drawer chests when we meant to have 3-drawer chests. Not only an extra $100 out of pocket, but too tall for the planned space. Ugh. Make that, "&*($!" because we were down to the wire to play the omni-fun party game, "Beat the Bus Home".
So APC, LLGA, and I raced home to meet Charlie, load the broken mattress bases that were under warranty, and traverse back to that Mecca of Cheap Home Furnishings that will owe you nothing when the boys inevitably destroy them. Take 2. Charlie ate his nourishing lunch and then goofed around the front, redoing the radio settings and making sure windshield wipers would go crazy when the van started up next. Lucy ate her nourishing and 95%ile-maintaining lunch and received a couple diaper changes. Only thing missing was the death-defying, hairpin-turns on a 1970s-era bus with squawking poultry to give me that "I'm suffering in a vehicle trapped with my children" feeling.
Erin emerged about 45 super-long minutes later, having exchanged the dressers, obtained a replacement part for a rolling desk chair, and having -- through her "retail-whisperer" act -- obtained STORE CREDIT for the past-90-days-return defective items. And away we went, exhausted but triumphant.
Today brings a daunting but do-able list of projects:
* Disassemble the wooden bunk beds;
* Clean gray metal computer desk and load Jack's somewhat unreliable Mac upon it;
* Replace a broken leg on the red homework table;
Victory!
* Assemble metal twin bunk beds;
Beginning
Midway with Charlie-boy performing feats of assistance:
Big thumbs-up from Jamie:
and
* Assemble metal matching day bed.
Erin has cracked open the power tools and, while brandishing them in the Queen's vicinity, informed that I am an
unhelpful helper. Charlie, apparently, is more helpful?
Lucy will need to learn this rule: Don't be a billygoat toward your Ralph Lauren.
Or to any label!
Every gal needs a big plaid madras hat! And a big gummy grin.
This onesie has a little fuzzy sheep applique and reads "I love ewe"...awwww. And those are suede pants...too cute and now she's too rotund to fit into them again. What a fussy britches!
Yes, it does read "Sweet" with a peapod. And she is (most of the time).
