Is it possible I could be nesting even though I’m not pregnant? Maybe it’s less nesting and more getting ready for winter hibernation. I’ve been living on a steady diet of HGTV while I edit photos, and nothing makes me hate my own (pretty nice) house than watching people turn their horrible basements into super useful space. Why can’t someone do that to MY basement?! It’s disgusting! The before and afters would be amazing!

The current first floor makeover started when E moved our cheap, old, Walmart desk downstairs so I could carve out an “office” corner for my business stuff. Need a lamp for one ugly desk was the gateway drug to a Target trip, which lead to a HomeGoods trip, which lead to an Ikea catalog with half the pages marked and a Pinterest board full of links to more furniture than I could ever fit in my house.

Last weekend I went shopping alone to “just look” for a little tiny couch to put in the living room. I didn’t end up finding the couch of my dreams, but that didn’t stop me from dragging the rest of my family out at 7 pm to look at the couch I DID find. It’s probably for the best I couldn’t find the one I wanted – I’m not sure a white tufted fabric couch is the right thing for a room that is currently full of surfaces the children are allowed to write on. The tan microfiber that was delivered yesterday will DEFINITELY survive more Play-Doh mishaps.

Part of the deal when E agreed to come look at “my” couch was we would also look for “his” new couch, which was basically the total opposite of that white one I had in mind. Think of the ugliest, most ridiculous man-couch you can. Now make it a) bigger b) uglier and c) add more cup holders. THAT is the couch he wanted. If a dozen cows didn’t have to die to cover his own personal reclining seat with built in beer fridge, he was NO INTERESTED.

Fortunately, our budget couldn’t support that couch, so it is NOT what I am sitting on while I write this. Unfortunately, the store’s huge sale item that weekend was a big, squishy sectional complete with cup holders and power recliners at each end, so that IS what I am sitting on. I’m not going to lie…it’s pretty comfortable. And this cup holder is very convenient for my Diet Coke. And it’s nice that it takes up basically the ENTIRE ROOM so we had to move most of the toys upstairs and I have most of my house back. The kids are both old enough that I can send them upstairs to play without me and I only have to occasionally shout at them to stop hitting each other. It’s pretty amazing to go from having 3 seats in this room to at least 7…and that’s not counting MY couch in front of the fireplace. A couch in front of the fireplace! For sitting on while drinking mulled wine and eating sparkling brie bites and having adult conversation without the TV on!

That will probably happen once. Right after we put the Christmas tree up. Then someone will say “We should watch Love Actually!” and we’ll move back to the giant ugly couch and that will be that. But when we have people over, there will be SO MANY PLACES TO SIT DOWN!

I realize I just wrote 500 words about two couches and I’ve posted no pictures, but that’s because I’m not done with the rearranging and redecorating. Plus I haven’t finished cleaning the old couch to put on Craigslist, so we actually have THREE couches in two small-ish rooms. I’ll be sure to do an underwhelming reveal if I ever get this part of the house set up the way I want – but I sort of suspect we’ll get busy and never actually sell the old couch or move this bookcase that’s basically blocking a doorway or buy a coffee table or patch the holes in the walls. So for now, just IMAGINE I live in a Pinterest-looking classy yet casual house. That’s what I’m doing.

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.

TADA! One husband made toy box, sturdy enough for climbing, painted with non-toxic VOC-free paint and built to prevent baby finger slamming.

My love of chalkboard paint goes on.

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.