The Mister and I have different ways to get what we want. I push head on, relentless, until whoever or whatever is blocking me collapses in a fit of exhaustion. He employs the Chinese proverb method, and waits by the river until the body floats by. Such is the case with bunk beds. He wanted one as a boy and thinks our boys will love them. I think I will hate making their beds, and they look a little dangerous. I said no, never, no bunk beds ever! He gave me one of his inscrutable looks and smiled a smile that said he had nothing but time.
But today, today I spent way too long cleaning. The house is a mess. Really, just a dusty, musty pit of neglect. I haven’t been able to stick to any sort of routine since the party, and it shows. Not helping matters are two rambunctious, sport obsessed boys. I washed all the rugs in the bathroom last week and had them back in place by Wednesday. On Sunday they were covered with leaves, twigs, and dirt. Two days before that, I was yelling for all the neighborhood to hear that absolutely no male–coach or player–was allowed to wear cleats in the house ever again. The floors don’t stay clean for two days before I am back at it, picking up clods of dirt and smacking homeplate out of baseball pants.
This is a really long way of saying that I flipped my lid in the middle of cleaning Mikey’s room this morning. I stood there, surrounded by cups, guards, baseball mits, hats, tennis shoes, trains, books, rackets, and bats, and wilted at the thought of finding more of the same in Nicholas’s room. Maybe not wilted. Maybe more like roughly emptying trash baskets and slamming books into an already overloaded bookshelf. Maybe like five seconds away from calling the Mister at work simply because he is male, and therefore culpable.
I didn’t call. I did have a fake argument in my head with him and the boys, which I won hands down. Later they all dropped what they were doing and cleaned the entire house of their sport equipment and man items…also in my head.
So my body, bloated and waterlogged, is floating down the river towards the Mister, who is sitting there with a smirk on his face. Maybe with bunk beds I will only have one room to dread, versus the Mikey+Nico+Toyroom Burmuda Triangle that makes me whimper. Maybe they might help keeping the chaos contained a bit. Maybe putting them to bed will be easier, and for sure they will no longer ask every night if they can sleep together. Maybe?
Oh, but does it ever look impossible to neatly make a bunk bed.
[Any suggestions on cute, affordable bunk beds? Have you seen any rooms with bunk beds that actually look cute?]