We recently started setting up the baby’s room. (You know, because he’s 2 months old and all. #thirdchildproblems) Anyway, we needed to buy some dressers for both the baby’s room and our older boys’ room. Without thinking, I started scanning Craigslist and asking my friends for hand-me-downs.
Then my husband asked why I hadn’t checked Pottery Barn or Restoration Hardware.
“Ummmmmm, because these pieces are going to get annihilated. Let’s buy the nice stuff when they’re 10.” Or, better yet, 18.
Yes, our furniture has seen it all.
These days, as I sit nursing (for a zillion hours a day), my eyes roll over the poor furniture pieces that are still limping along with us, 12 years into our marriage and almost 4 years into parenthood. As I look around, I say a wordless ‘thank you’ to each piece.
Take for instance, our dirty, nasty couch.
It’s 8 years old, but I REFUSE to buy a new couch. (And yes I capitalized that because I am yelling.)
This couch. Has. Been. Thrashed. It is stained and torn. (Luckily, it’s still a super-comfy nap spot for my sweet little guy.) Thank goodness the cushion covers are removable, so I can wash them every month or so. But even still, this couch is just totally thrashed and sad. The armrests are stained a permanent yellow-brown color, from the years of elbows, toddler feet and mugs of lukewarm coffee resting (and spilling) on them.
Under the cushions, lodged somewhere between the totally-flattened couch bed mattress and the floor are sure to be some Ritz cracker and Cheerios remnants that haven’t seen the light of day for at least 2 years. And, I don’t even care. Please, just stay there. Because tomorrow, a sprinkle of Goldfish crumbs will join you. And then again, the day after that.
Thank you, tired couch for your long-suffering service to our family. (And please continue to serve us for a few more years before I replace you with the big, beautiful gray, tufted L-shaped couch of my dreams.)
And then there’s our TV table.
I love this table. It’s white and bright and happy (and the perfect place to display silly, squiggly patriotic art made by my preschooler). But holy crap, it has been slammed by approximately 37,589 Matchbox cars in just the last 2 weeks alone. And that’s being conservative. It’s hard to tell in the picture, but there are airport runways that have seen less friction than the top of this stained, cracked TV table.
Thank you, TV table. You are still beautiful to me. (But you need a new paint job as soon as the kids are school-aged. Or moved out.)
And wine cabinet, I saved you for last because you are just the perfect picture of how our life has changed in the last 4 years. You used to hold wine, but about a year ago, I realized you’d be much more effective as a shoe cubby for stinky toddler shoes. (You’re right, it was a demotion. You got me.) You’re right next to our front door, so it’s perfect for me. And just to top off your humiliation, we put socks in your drawers. It just makes sense. And, let’s be real. We both know you haven’t held wine bottles since our youngest was curious-aged, which feels like eons ago. But don’t worry. We still drink plenty of wine. Arguably more than ever before.
Do you want me to keep going? Because I will. There are lots of others nooks in the house that are totally kid-thrashed. Like the window sill, with a slit where my 2-year-old likes to hide French fries, Chex and pretzel remnants. On the daily.
Or the side of the wall, which has been rubbed by my now-so-grossly-stained-I-can’t-even-filter-it-out-in-pictures Chevron bench, which I basically lifted from a neighbor I didn’t know almost 12 years ago. We should definitely paint over those turquoise scuffs, but alas, there will be new ones before nap time.
And how could I forget our coffee table?
My parents bought this for us when we were first married. It’s made with antique wood that was refurbished to a glean that rivaled the silky lobby tables at the Ritz. Well, we’ll let 4 years of leaky zippy cups and dinosaur wars fix that. This piece is definitely due for another gleaming.
So, dear hubby, these are the reasons we can’t buy things at Pottery Barn or Restoration Hardware. I’m sure the time will come when the kids won’t behave like rabid cavemen who haven’t eaten in days. But right now, I’m going to respectfully insist on Craigslist and hand-me-downs.
(But in full disclosure, we bought a moderately-priced set from Wayfair because… who has time to paint and refurbish a Craigslist find?)
(Which basically means we are suckers who never learn.)
Yes, this is your furniture after kids. Any questions?
Any to add? Head to the Facebook page, look for the post, and add your kid-thrased furniture pics in the comments!
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