|1940s bed frames|
I kinda wish I'd taken a picture of all the different versions of the kids' bedroom, starting with the way my grandmother Miriam had it with the big mirror over the dresser and the little table built into the wall.
Tomorrow we're getting rid of the bed frames Wally has been using for the past five years or so. These weren't my grandmother's beds, rather they were always in the other room, the den. It's a day bed, where one collapses and slides under the other, but for the past half year we've left them mostly side-by-side with the kids sleeping next to each other.
Alex has some guys from the building coming to get the frames for bulk pickup. I'm so mad at him because I wanted to try to give it away on Freecycle but Alex refused. (It's hard to line up the timing for that with the building's rules about the elevator and Alex feared it would become a hoarding situation where we'd never get the frames out.) The main drawback of these beds is the injury danger of the metal frame. People are always getting hurt on them. It seems odd to give them away now, though, when the kids are 3 and 8.
Our neighbor-friends are passing on their kind of bunk bed to us tomorrow (the Ikea bed where one kids sleeps on the floor).
The day bed been in this apartment my entire life, but I never saw the frame before. It turned out to be so small.
Last night Wally cried himself to sleep about giving it away.
I'm not able to write any more about the meaning of this (if there is any to even draw out) but I felt the need to mark it on the night that the room is in this odd state of disarray.
I was looking at this adorable book Craft for the Soul by Pip Lincolne and she says she "love[s] going to sleep at night."
I want to be one of those people who wants to get into bed. I don't like to go until I'm so tired I am literally falling over. I'm still a little bit on West Coast time so even up until 1 am last night I was still feeling pretty wired, unusual for me, ever since having kids.