Jami's Latest Poorly Planned Idea

This was written about a week and a half ago, and apparently I forgot to actually post it . .. Sigh. You know what doesn't go well together? Pregnancy-insanity hormones and furniture moving. You see, for the past several months, I've been trying to swap Eddie's bedroom and playroom. The playroom (now) is the bigger of the two and I'm not spending another winter cooped up in the smaller room. For the longest time, my biggest impediment to completing the switch was our computer desk. Large and unused, it's taken up a nice portion of that room for quite some time. Once we started using the laptop exclusively and our old PC finally quit on us, it's been sitting around collecting random objects that had no better place to go. And it's too heavy for me to move. I attempted to dismantle it, only to find that it's really not set up for easy take-apart. So, I removed several of the shelves, basically everything that I could with a normal screwdriver, and carried all those pieces to the front porch - we intended to sell or donate it (note: see yesterday's post). Then I stood in Eddie's new bedroom, pondering the behemoth which has been taunting me with its presence. I pushed it a little. Hmm, you know, without the shelves and the keyboard thing, it's really not that heavy, overall. I'm strong. I do Wii Fit. Yes, I didn't do any for the first oh, let's say 10 weeks I was pregnant, but overall, I can move it. You might think you know where this is headed. You don't. So I huff and I puff and I shove that thing out into the hall. Good enough. Eddie occasionally emerges from the playroom to take stock of what I'm doing, then darts back in. He's smart, that one. Now it rests at the top of the stairs. We have the three-steps, then a landing, then a bunch more steps set up. I know I can't lift it down the steps, even the three. I'm not totally deluded. But I've gotten it this far, right? So I devise a plan to slid it down the first set of stairs. Plan #1 ends in failure, with me pinned precariously between the window and the desk. Not good. I get it back up and try plan B. This is much more successful and before you know it, I've got the thing perched at the top of the stairs. And now, I've got a new problem. See, the way I got it there involved me sliding it down the steps using my weight to slow it from behind. But I'm not foolhardy enough to attempt that with the larger stair case. And the desk is pretty much blocking the stairs. I've trapped us upstairs. I really didn't want to call the Husband and explain that I'd managed to trap his wife and child upstairs and could he come home and free us? I did manage to shove it back to the wall so we could escape. Then I decided to await the Husband's regularly scheduled arrival and he would help. Even better, my father showed up to drop off something for us. Eddie desperately wanted to show off his bunk beds to his beloved Pop, so I had to admit the predicament to him, and he helped me remove the offending desk. Whew. And all because my nesting urge was screaming that the desk had to go.