So there's this thing, on this blog. It's called "tackle-it tuesday." And I've known about it for weeks and weeks and weeks. And I've been reading what other people have done, and been generally inspired and scared all at the same time. But here goes.
Before the littlest one was born, you'll recall that we were super-poor, Sarge was in the police academy and we lived in a teeny-tiny house. And so I purchased our new baby a dresser from the Salvation Army, complete with mis-matched handles and not a scrap of real wood. It went nicely with his hand-me down crib and clearance rack bedding.
I thought he should have been grateful for a dresser at all. I had been tempted to keep his clothes in buckets under his crib, but I needed that space for other things. So I replaced the handles on the dresser and moved on with my life.
Fast forward four and a half years. The Salvation Army dresser still functions, though one of the drawers keeps breaking. Oddly enough it's the underwear/woop drawer, so it gets heavy use (until he gives up on underwear for the day, usually around pair four). And he changes clothes at least seventeen times a day. So his dresser looks like this most of the time. Fortunately, it sits in his closet, so I can just shut the doors to the closet when I can't stand it any more. Well, I usually have to shove some things around to get there, but it's at least possible, most days.
But, you know, we're having a dinner party this weekend, and random ridiculous things are being done. And the drawer made the list. Mostly it made the list because it sat in the upstairs hallway for about three weeks, then downstairs, completely in the way, between the garage and the laundry room, for another two weeks. And I'm totally under-exaggerating those times, to make myself feel better, just so you know. The timeline was way longer, and I will admit on my deathbed how long it actually was.
So the gorilla glue, the hammer and random nails found their way into the awkward corner where the drawer lived for an unspecified amount of time. I'd done this once before, so I knew just what I needed (double up what I used the last time, because obviously it didn't work really well!). And to the drawer I went. No matter that Sarge was trying to sleep right down the hall after working all night, I was determined!
And I think I won this round. Until the little one decides to change his clothes again.