Over dinner tonight (peanut butter and jelly because we are awesome) Ryan said to the kids "OK guys, you're going to hear a lot of screwing and banging tonight, but I need you to stay in your beds and try to sleep, alright?"
We've had a whole weekend of screwing and banging around here as Ryan and my dad framed the new wall upstairs. The wall that will create "the gutter room" as Charlie calls it, because if he looks out the window he can see the gutters on the roof. Big stuff when you are three, apparently.
I'm more excited about the linen closet they're incorporating and the fact that I will have two fewer people whose sleep habits mirror those of the inmates at Guantanamo.
Here's where things stand tonight. If you want a before picture imagine this picture without the studs (the wooden ones and the human ones) and a whole bunch more furniture and useless miscellany in the background. And yes, they removed that giant chair before nailing everything together. It's now in my bedroom with all the other useless miscellany. It's like sleeping in a yard sale.
Oddly, though the boys cannot sleep through a brother climbing into their bed at five o'clock in the morning, they can sleep through the symphony of hammering and drilling that's been going on up there since before they went to bed. It's a good thing, too, because the more Ryan gets done while they are sleeping, the less time I spend averting tetanus and head injuries because the little rascals are just too quick for me to grab as they dart up the stairs to check out the progress. I've used about a half-tank of gas this weekend taking long slow drives to the Sonic three counties over just to get them out of the house. Playing outside simply wasn't an option until late this afternoon when a cold front finally knocked our humidity back down to habitable levels.
Taco's picked a particularly ill-timed moment to start trouble. I've been sailing along for twenty some-odd weeks with nary a care in the world and now that it's time to play general contractor I can no longer move any body part below my shoulders without touching off an achy, stabby storm of pain in my lower back and ab "muscles". I found myself trapped in Charlie's bed the other night, unable to roll over or sit up from the sciatic nerve pain. I kept trucking through Stuart Little, willing Ryan to walk close enough to the door that I could yell for him to get the fork lift and hoist me back into a standing position, but he never did. I figured it out myself eventually, but then tonight I somehow pulled an ab "muscle" while lying in bed reading Goodnight Moon to Wes. I would have preferred laundry to be the task I was incapable of doing, but apparently I'm on the bench for bedtime stories until after December.
We're so lucky to have lots of help from my dad, who today helped Ryan carry a queen sized bed, chair, and ottoman down the stairs and six huge sheets of sheet rock up the stairs. If not for him I'd still be sleeping in the double queen room at the Ramada Inn. Only without the indoor pool.
I'm really pleased with how the wall is looking and I'm hopeful that one day I can show you some "after" pictures. Until then, I will be keeping my kids off the second floor during waking hours and carefully hiding all the power tools before I go to sleep.