Moving furniture

October has been a whirlwind. We've mostly been keeping busy moving furniture and moving furniture and moving furniture.

First we moved everything out of the girls' room and away from the wall in the storage room so the basement could be waterproofed. When the drywall was up in the storage room we started to piece the storage room back together, though it's still quite a cumbersome mess since all the stuff from the girls' room is in there as well. 

Last night Andrew and I moved all the furniture in the LEGO room so that we could lay down the old carpet from the girls' room in the LEGO room (we can't reuse their carpet for their room because the footprint of their floor has changed—they have a closet now and we had to take out some of the built-ins). And then we moved the furniture back onto the carpet we just put down. And then we moved all the furniture from the "main room" into the LEGO room so that we can repaint in there. 

That doesn't sound like a lot once it's all written out. I think what's overwhelming is knowing we have to move everything back to where we ultimately want it (and need to finish putting carpet in the LEGO room).

We're having professionals lay the carpet in the girls' room so it's stretched nice and tight, but for the LEGO room...we're just putting it on the floor and calling it better than nothing (which is what we had before). 

*****

Because the girls have a built-in closet now (or will before too long), they don't need the wardrobe that has been acting as their closet the past few years. We decided that we'd rearrange the shelves in our storage room to fit the wardrobe in there. Miriam wants to organize all our craft supplies inside of it—the yarn and so forth—so that they're nice and easy to access (and, in theory, are then easier to put away, too...right?). 

That wardrobe is heavy. Hauling it from the main room of the basement (which is as far as anyone cared to move it the first time it was moved out of their bedroom) to the storage room was no easy feat. Andrew stood at one end and Rachel and I worked together on the other end. 

We'd count, "1, 2, 3—lift!" then shuffle for a few steps and then, "Okay, okay. Rest...rest...ready? 1, 2, 3—lift!"

It took us a while to get there. 

At some point I realized that I'd have a better grip if I opened the door of the wardrobe and rested my hand against the "wall," so to speak. So that's what I did. This worked fine until we came to a doorway. 

To be clear, we would have (and eventually did) fit through the doorway with the door of the wardrobe ajar (and my arm inside), but when we got to the doorway, Andrew suddenly became worried about the wardrobe being ajar. 

"Just a second," he called to us over the wardrobe. 

He tried to force the wardrobe door close.

"Hey," I panted (because...we were holding the wardrobe off the ground at this point). "My arm is in the door..."

"Just a second," he called again, slamming the door with each word he emphasized. "I'm trying..."

"Honey!"

"...to get this door..."

"My arm!"

"...to..."

"My arm!"

"close!"

"MY ARM IS IN THE DOOR!" I bellowed. 

"Oh!" Andrew said sheepishly. "Well, let's put it down for a second. Rest...rest..."

After a brief rest (and apologies) we determined to get it into its new location.

"Okay. Ready?" I asked. 

"Ready," Rachel and Andrew agreed.

"1, 2, 3...lift!" I said. 

Rachel and I hefted to no avail and then Andrew said, "1, 2, 3—lift!" and it was his turn to heft to no avail while Rachel fell to the floor laughing.

"Is this what you're going to be like when you're old? 1, 2, 3...lift! 1, 2, 3... How hard is it to lift on three?"

"This is what we're like now!" I said. 

*****

I never said we were professionals.