Things That Go Bunk In The Night
February 02, 2011
IS SUBJECT CHANGING TIME NOW OKAY.
Yeeeeesh, what a downer week. Let's talk about...bunk beds!
Or, as Noah calls them, bump beds!
Or or, as Ezra calls them, boo beds!
So. To recap: I started toying with the idea of moving the boys into a single room last summer, since they seemed to dislike being herding off into separate rooms at bedtime. I even asked you guys about it! And then proceeded to do nothing at all about it whatsoever. Yeah. That's so Raven Amalah.
Of course, just a month later the room-sharing idea was catapulted into Necessity when I got myself all good and knocked up. Ezra had to get out of the crib, and into Noah's room. (The "nursery" room is a postage stamp. If I'm changing Ezra's diaper and Ceiba walks in, it immediately feels all cramped.)
After looking around at all your creative bed-and-bunk suggestions and options, we eventually decided to just go with the traditional bunk-bed route, despite the fact that they fill me with no small amount of terror.
(And also: JEALOUSY. I wanted bunk beds as a kid SO BAD, you guys. Bunks or a giant four-poster princess-pink canopy bed. My mom was like, yeah no, here's a hand-me-down twin frame. I'll let you pick out your own comforter from TJMaxx. Take it or sleep on the floor.)
We "decided" on bunk beds because, well, Noah saw bunk beds at the store and wanted them. Wanted them BAD, SO BAD, as bad as I ever wanted them, maybe even more so, once he learned that after the bunk beds are at your house, you're allowed to take the "no climbing" sign off the ladder.
Young mind = BLOWN.
Of course, we happened to be at Pottery Barn Kids at the time, where a nice set of bunk beds cost a nice amount of money, too much money for someone like me who still has nothing but eight-year-old IKEA furniture in her bedroom, combined with a couple stacks of giant plastic storage bins full of off-season clothes that I just push up against the walls and pretend that nobody will notice. Right? You never would have spotted them unless I said something just now. I mean, there's only like seven of them, whatever.
So we kicked off a very long search for inexpensive bunk beds. I voted for IKEA, but I guess some latent primal hunting instincts kicked on inside Jason's brain and he became fixated on trying to find something "nicer" on Craigslist. He would find the elusive solid-wood bunks from a reputable furniture manufacturer! He would track down the perfect set-up and finish! He would outwit that $1,600 retail price! RAWR. GRARR. AND ETC.
So that's how, after about three months of getting beaten to every single available set of second-hand bunk beds in the DC Metro area, we finally brought home some Pottery Barn twin-over-full bunk beds for a mere $200.
(The only downside was that the previous owner's dog chewed on the bottom rung of the ladder "a little.")
(This is "a little" in Craiglistese, by the way.)
But! Who cares! Not Noah or Ezra, THAT'S for damn sure.
I guess, taking the travel interruption last week into account, the boys have spent about five full nights with the new arrangement, and it's been stupidly easy. We moved Ezra from crib to bed justlikethat, band-aid style, like "this is your new bed, get in it," and he's been napping and sleeping there ever since. Last night was the first time he needed to be nudged away from the bookshelf and back into bed more than once or twice, while Noah simply scampers up the ladder and is immediately DEAD TO THE WORLD until morning. They don't seem to wake each other up at all, and our nightly battles with Noah over leaving the light on are all but non-existent, now that he has company.
They've also been -- and this is where I know I sound like I'm totally making shit up -- playing together SO MUCH BETTER over the past few days. Not just playing around each other, but with each other. Noah's treating Ezra more like a playmate than like a nearby lump of play-dough who occasionally bugs him and messes his train tracks up. They're becoming friends. Something that I figured (or at least hoped) would happen eventually, but it really does seem like the roomie nighttime togetherness gave it a really nice little boost.
There are a couple pain-in-the-ass things, of course -- after putting sheets on the top bunk I vowed to NEVER EVER DO THAT AGAIN, OUTSOURCE, OUTSOURCE, RAISES FOR THE BABYSITTER AND CLEANING LADY, and it's a little more complicated now to send Noah to his room for I Know You Won't Nap But Oh My God Go Lie Down Or Something You're Killing Me Here Quiet Time when Ezra actually IS napping. And sometimes I miss having Ezra CONTAINED for a little bit in the morning, since he now can come barreling down the hall and start yelling at my sleeping eyelids as soon as Noah is up and opens the door for him.
And no, no one has fallen out of bed yet. Or horseplayed the other right off the top bunk. YET. I KNOW. I KNOW. JUST HOLD THAT SHIT OFF UNTIL JUNE, WHEN I CAN DRINK AGAIN.
But so far, the pros outweigh the cons and it's all getting two thumbs up, fine holiday fun.
(I wish I had some better pictures to show you but the lighting in that room seems to be permaset on crappy. Also, our camera has started taking pictures like it's 90 years old in camera years. Which I suppose it kind of is.)
And yes. I totally splurged on the Star Wars bedding. Well, just the quilts and shams, anyway. The sheets and blankets are Plain Shit From Target. And the quilts were on sale! Still cost more than the damn bunk beds themselves, I think, but we can't ALL be mighty Craigslist bargain hunters, Jason. Some of us are still just hysterical nesting pregnant women who are stuck using the same beat-up crib and the same boring unisex crib bedding in the nursery for the THIRD TIME NOW and I'm NOT COMPLAINING ABOUT THAT but if you don't shut up and let me buy Millennium Falcon quilts and R2D2 pillowcases RIGHT NOW I will probably cry. And THEN I will start acting irrational about stuff, 'kay?