Injured in the Line of Motherhood

Last week, I switched the girls' bedrooms. I did this while they were away, hanging with their dad and that side of their family. It was a long and arduous project. First, I packed up their rooms. I culled their toys, their clothes, their stuff. I learned how very much stuff my children have. I cleaned up and organized. I sorted and threw away. Thus endeth phase one.

For phase two, I moved all the furniture out of Maren's room and stacked everything she owns in the living room and dining room. I tried to allow myself points of exit for running away from home purposes.

Then, I painted it for Brynna. Here's the thing with painting, I don't mind it. I kinda like to paint, except I don't like to do it by myself. I like to take the brush and do all the edgework and have someone else come along and do the stupid, stupid, boring rolling. I hate rolling. But I did it.

Then, I swept and mopped. Then, I moved Brynna's stuff in. Except Brynna has a few too many pieces of furniture, so some had to be taken to the basement and her furniture is bigger, so I had to have help so some of it stayed right where it was.

Then, I painted that room for Maren. Only, the paint that I bought on clearance a couple of months ago was pure and utter crap. Like watery, miserable, runny, wrong color crap. So, I had to stop, clean up all my materials and go buy more paint.

Then, I painted. Then, I cleaned. Then, I moved Maren's stuff in. Then, I switched their closets which was a couple hours of work all by itself.

Except I'm still not done. Maren doesn't have a dresser in her room right now. And Brynna has a bunch of stuff just stacked in a corner of her room. Both of them are missing most of what goes on their walls, primarily because I haven't made it yet. There is clean laundry stacked up even with the couch in my living room and a bunch of board games stacked in the hallway. My dining room is currently home to a giant spring horse and a bedside table as well as both girls' TV's.

But, I survived and I did most of it. I will get this done and the worst is over. And I weathered the storm pretty well, surviving a week of hard labor with nary an injury.

Then, yesterday, my darlings came home. I missed them, really. We had a really nice evening and went home late and fell into our respective beds. For a while. After about an hour, Brynna came in and said her book was too scary and she needed to sleep with me. I shoved over. About three hours after that, Maren came in, looked at Brynna and said, "Where am I supposed to sleep?"

I shoved over more. Then, I fought them the whole night over the blanket and them squishing me into the wall. I twisted and turned and envied the dog, who was basking in the cavernous space under the bed.

Today, I can barely move. My back is completely wrenched, my shoulder is killing me and I can barely turn my head.

That's right, sleeping with my children is harder on my back than moving furniture without them. It's amazing parents live past forty.