Before I had a baby, it seemed very important to have a nursery. I needed a room for the baby’s clothes and crib and a rocking chair and bookcases and toys and a changing table. A room dedicated to baby’s little life and little things. So we did the guest room shuffle (nice furniture to back bedroom, back bedroom furniture to third floor, third floor boxes to storage space, that’s what it’s all about) and turned the small front room into the baby’s nursery complete with a theme and matching furniture.
Then we brought the baby home and lost the second floor of our house. It just didn’t exist anymore, except for 15 minute blocks of time for a shower or maybe a quick nap in a real bed instead of on the couch. It was definitely too far to go every time my incredibly throw-uppy baby threw up and needed a new outfit. Add diaper changed to clothes changes and the nursery might just as well have been at the top of Mt. Everest. Only hours after getting home from the hospital we gave up all pretense of a nursery and turned our family room into baby central. E dragged the changing table down, we bought an extra diaper pail, a basket for baby clothes and we’ve never looked back.
Ok, I look back. All the time. I hate having that damn changing table in my family room, even if it does make my life easier. It’s big and disorganized and a constant reminder of how lazy I am. It also ruins all my good baby pictures.
Not to mention once the baby was mobile it was impossible to keep him away.
So right after Christmas I decided it was time to get my family room back. Baby Evan thrashes and squirms so much on the table I was changing him on the floor most of the time anyway. Plus we needed something to contain the explosion of baby toys that followed Christmas. I swear those things breed when I’m not looking. A couple of days in the basement, one new set of router bits, and a trip to Home Depot later and E had made my toy box dreams come true.
It’s big enough to hold all our toys and stuffed animals and whatever board books happen to be lying around at the moment with room for at least a few more. I can now un-baby the floor after bedtime in about 40 seconds, close the lid and not have to worry about tripping over a squeaky block on my way to the liquor cabinet refrigerator.
And that, my dears, is the story of how Mommy got her family room back.