I have big news. We’re getting new furniture. I know, I know. Not as exciting as a new baby, new house, or new car. However, for us this is a big step – a big damn deal. This will be our first attempt to buy something “nice” after having children. Indeed, for the past 5.5 years, much has been sacrificed at the altar of small children.
Our original new couch we purchased when we bought our house fell victim to co-sleeping and leaky diapers, slowly evolving into this shapeless red spotted thing which smelled strongly of pee. The 2 subsequent couches we’ve had have been “get along” couches: things which we could sit upon, but really belonged in a frat house basement. Our coffee table has been the worst. We gave up and just screwed the bumpers right into the wooden corners. It was already so dinged up and marred, it just didn’t make a difference. Oh yeah. And the drawer in it was missing because one of the stupid cats pissed in it.
So our house has been pretty damn shabby. Not shabby chic. Just shabby. The yard, too, but I’ll worry about one thing at a time (and after all the flooding we’ve just had, I don’t even want to look out there). It was time to look less-redneck. I began the assault on my husband, convincing him that we needed new adult furniture more than he needed another computer or a bigger TV. I did the legwork. I went to our local furniture store (being the one we can actually afford to shop in) and took loads of photos, notes, and compiled a comprehensive guide to the furniture sets that might work within the confines of our budget and family.
Then it stalled. For over a month. We just never could get away to look. I finally got frustrated, and dragged everyone with me. Have you ever taken small children to a furniture store? Big mistake. Huge mistake. For starters, the building is gigantic and full of breakable knickknacks which makes it a highly desirable running track. Then there are all of the couches and beds. While I was worried about things such as whether or not the cushions were reversible and would the fabric wear well, my children were busy testing the “bouncability factor.” In short, this place was like a huge trampoline littered with tasteful booby traps. We didn’t last 10 minutes.
We finally got away this past Sunday to make our final selection. I’m excited, and I’m sure all of my future pictures from around my house – the inside, anyway – will look more put-together. But let this serve as a warning. Kids + furniture store = bedlam.