But then I started looking at my living room.
Then my "dining room" which will forever be in quotations because between all the other stuff in there and the small dimensions of the room, I doubt it will ever house a dining table.
I began eying our heavy oak bookcase. The one I've wanted to put in our bedroom but have been inhibited by the words heavy and oak. I began eying my children though. They're getting bigger and stronger. Maybe?
We could move the bookcase and switch it with some furniture in my room and voila! A change! I like change. Furniture is meant to be moved if you ask me.
I told Braeden my plan (Emma wasn't home yet). He said, "Oh no."
I said, "We'll wait for Emma."
He said, "Mom. We can't." (Sometimes he's so
I told Emma when she got home and she told me she was going back to school.
"Fine," I relented, "We'll wait for Dad." (I didn't really want to wait though because sometimes Adam's less enthusiastic about my changes...)
I started shuffling books and then took up the ongoing book debate in my mind where I last left it. The arranger in me would like to group my books by size or even better, color. The reader in me would like them grouped by genre. The mother in me wants the books I want our children to read front and center and accessible. The practical side of me realizes they need to fit in where they can...which sometimes makes no sense at all. (And by the way, Amazon? It's over between us. I can't. Buy. Any. More. Books. You will no longer trick me with your 4-for-3 promotions or your if-you-just-spend-a-little-more-you'll-get-free-shipping. I have no more bookshelf space. Unless...)
I explained my plan to Adam and he said we would have to wait for the weekend. The weekend? That's days away. He said, "We'll need more help. We can't do it alone."
I said, "I think we can. Our kids are big and strong." I'm constantly waiting for that grocery consumption to pay off. I said, "You know how I need to change furniture once I get the idea..."
He said, "I understand."
Which is nice of him because I think he'd be perfectly fine if the furniture was bolted down and he never had to move anything again.
Before bed, Adam instructed everyone to get on shoes in case we dropped the bookcase on our feet. We each grabbed a corner or section and started. We made it a few feet and I said, "Never mind. I don't think we can do it." That thing is heavy.
Mark said, "I'm with Mom."
Adam said, "Come on. We can do it."
So we did. (Except Mark. He remained a not so silent protester and kept telling us we couldn't do it and should give up. We told him to go away.) We twisted and heaved and strained and pushed and pulled (have I mentioned there's a 180 degree turn and landing in our staircase?) and finally it ended up in place. But not without fingers getting squashed and Emma getting momentarily pinned (between the bookcase and wall) and the wall getting scuffed.
I would continue with the book debate/shuffle but I can't move my arms anymore.