We are in. We slept here last night, too, actually, but on a mattress on the floor in my new room, all of us huddled together and I did not get much sleep. Tonight we each have our own bed, well, except for my six-year-old, who has a mattress on the floor in his room, which I’ve made up nice and cozy for him.
Technically, he does have a bed. I built it for him this afternoon all by myself, only to discover that I had stupidly bought the wrong size wood slats to fit in the bed; the ones I got are far too short and so he has a bed frame, plus a brand new mattress and new bedding, but none of those slats to hold the damn mattress up.
I also built shelves for the pantry and one of those ubiquitous Expedit bookshelf things today. I only had to get some help from the movers with a couple of tough screws. And I only had one small breakdown (over the slats). When I showed my six-year-old the bed I’d built for him, even though he’d been in the same room playing with Legos the entire time, he said, “You did that? I didn’t think you could do that.”
Dude, I didn’t think I could either.
Still, he didn’t seem all that impressed. Especially when the slats didn’t fit. Whatever. I was impressed enough for the two of us.
On Saturday, when the Ikea installers came to set up my new kitchen, they noted I had some other Ikea furniture and asked me if I’d be interested in having them build it for me for a small fee. “How much?” I asked.
“Make us an offer,” the more outspoken of the two guys said and then shook his head at the giant drawers I’d bought for six’s elaborate Lego collection. “I don’t know if you can get those together on your own.”
Which, if you know me, was definitely not the thing to say if he had any desire at all to continue the negotiation. I still haven’t opened the package with those drawers yet. He did kind of freak me out a little, but when I do, I’m sure it will be fine.
All the other furniture I put together today had that picture of the two stupid Ikea guys with an X through the guy on his own and I did it on my own anyway, with only a few outbursts involving four-letter words. And this is despite being totally exhausted, with gnarly scabs all over the backs of my hands from cleaning exposed ceiling beams, having taken five hours off from the move/furniture assembly to attend my son’s first ever rugby tournament this morning, having some interesting plumbing issues in the bathroom which I am trying to ignore until something can be done about them, still needing my stove, oven, kitchen sink and washing machine to be hooked up, and being plagued by doubts at this crazy decision to move to the center of town despite my children’s objections. (What was I thinking?)
But we are in. And this apartment might be totally wacky with the weirdest electrical wiring ever and I don’t even want to go into what the deal is in the bathroom, and you can hear all the cars on the street when you open the windows despite being on the top floor and there is no elevator, but it kind of already feels like home. To me.
Despite about five minutes on our last trip to the old house (or what we thought would be our last trip, but now will be our second-to-last trip since there is still more crap there – will it ever end?) when I was closing things up for the night. It was latish and there was a beautiful crescent moon over the trees in the back and as I closed the shutters and the fresh air rushed in through the window and the kids squealed out in the driveway with the neighbors, I thought what the hell was I thinking?
The boys feel the same way. They both kind of hate it.
But that, like the plumbing, is something I am just going to have to deal with tomorrow. Now I am off to bed, without even rereading this post. And that should explain all the spelling mistakes/typos/run-on sentences. My apologies!