A Tale of Two Bunk Beds

It was the best of times. It was the worst of times.
It has been the best of times lately as the whole family has been having SO MUCH FUN decorating the new beach house. By “the whole family,” I mean, mainly me. And by “decorating the beach house,” I mean me going to IKEA every day to rummage around the Insane Tent Sale. Mostly insane because of the insane people (including me) who frantically searched broken boxes for whole pieces of furniture.
But that’s another post.
It was also the best of times because our family has suddenly found itself in our sweet spot. Turns out we needed two new sets of bunk beds for the beach house. The Mydal bunk bed (pictured above) was the cheapest on the market. But, as you can see, the Mydal needs paint.
My love language is IKEA hacks. I’ve hacked all our kids’ beds until they were barely recognizable. I have run out of beds. But! What’s this? More bunk beds to hack!
I was on it faster than you can say “twenty cans of spray paint.”
I WORE MYSELF OUT with the project. I printed picture after picture of Mydal bunk beds painted to look like water, to look like waves, to look like sand, to look like the beach. I referenced and cross-referenced bedding ideas. I mentally reconfigured the room a zillion times to so we could create the safest and cutest bunk room on the Internet. I auditioned and rejected themes. I pinned other hackers’ ideas.
I was in the IKEA ZONE.
Saturday was truly the best of times. Miracle of miracles, Sam woke up with one request: can we please go to IKEA today? No one ever asks to go to IKEA with me. The mention of IKEA makes M’s face twitch.
But this was the best of times! I had a willing IKEA companion. I loaded Sam up in the minivan so quick, he didn’t have time to change his mind, and I got right over to that Swedish Wonderland.
After picking up a few other things we needed (I use the term “needed” loosely here), we headed down to the self-serve section to load up the Mydal Bunk Beds.
Here’s where the worst of times begins….
The Mydal was just too heavy to pick up. I couldn’t get it on my flat cart. And, I knew, that if I couldn’t get it on my flat cart, I surely couldn’t load it into the minivan. So, I made the Call of Shame to M. Could, he, pretty please, meet us for lunch at IKEA and help me load up the bunk beds?
Of course, he came. Trying to alleviate some of his facial ticking induced by the IKEA experience of large, mean crowds, I told him to meet me in the cafeteria. I had steaming plates of meatballs for the kids, he just had to run down to self-serve, load up the bunk beds, and get them out to the car.
Simple, right?
Here’s where the worst of times continues….
Realizing we were late for Tae Kwon Do, I loaded up the kids and took them there. M assured me he was fine getting two sets of bunk beds and meeting us at Catie’s big end-of-the-year play. All was going according to plan, M driving the minivan with the boxes of beds, and me shuttling the kids around.
After the play, Catie wanted to go the animal shelter to play with the homeless cats to celebrate her big play (???). Then she wanted to go to Red Robin for a big celebratory meal, which we also did.
All this time, M and I were gearing up for the BIG NIGHT OF HACKING! We discussed spray paint colors, paint strategies, and he drank iced tea for dinner to reinforce his energy for the long night ahead.
Finally, we were home. While the kid spread sheets on our driveway, M pulled out the boxes. Then he slit one of the boxes open.
Worst of times, y’all. Worst of times.
Initially, I was confused.
Then I realized: it was the wrong bed.
I looked at the side of the box.
Sure enough, it was the Tromoso.
He had accidentally bought metal bunk beds that cannot be spray-painted.
While we both stared at the box, and silently calculated how many hours it would take to drive these beds to IKEA, exchange them, and return with the new ones, we realized that trip would take all of our hacking time.
All the planning and inspiring for the past couple weeks whooshed out of me.
Just then the fatigue of the past month with our crazy schedule of swimteam/drama/taekwondo/balletl/tball/life hit me full force. Right there, in front of God and my kids and the neighbors, I started to cry.
It was the worst of times for sure.
We had the spray paint, and the ideas, and the inspiration, and the conviction.
But now we had no beds and no time.
Eventually, I stood up.
M and I put the kids to bed, and then I researched the Tromoso bed.
So, yeah, it can’t really be hacked. There would be no beachy/shabby chic/ homemade bed in the beach house. There would be no creative spray paint. Or Pinterest posts.
But there would be about twenty more (much-needed) hours in our schedule this week.
And a couple sets of decent bunk beds inside the cutest beach house ever. For the sweetest kids ever.
And, because of that, there would also be the Best of Times.

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