Another Condo Life Challenge

One of the greatest challenges facing us this year is adding a fourth child without adding any additional housing or storage space.  They should really make reality shows about this kind of stuff.  Actually, they probably do and I’m just blissfully unaware of it. 

By the way, in case you hadn’t guessed it yet, this is another post on our condo life.  Remember the “1100 square feet and counting…” thing?   

After wracking my brains for how to increase storage space without decreasing square footage … with a plan that did not use any of the following: 1) dynamite, 2) excavation, or 3) possibly more dynamite … I came up with something that I pitched to the “Head of the House” (he’s the head, I’m the neck … or at the moment, the double chin) as a viable solution.  In other, related news … thank God for IKEA. 

Step One (no, this is not a song by The Fray): we did a complete and  introspective soul-search (“Are we really ever going to read that book to the kids again?  Do they ever play with that toy?”) and with the heightened sense of self-awareness did a thorough clean-out for our donation center of choice.  I, for one, feel much better about myself now. 

This picture (taken during the clean out phase) shows the damaged toy/book shelf and the super-damaged college dorm-style blocks I’d been using for Chase’s clothes.  Parenting note: never use dorm-style blocks.  Your kids will try and pull them apart despite the severe warnings to the contrary that you repeatedly give, and then, if the blocks restack and stand at all, it will be at an annoyingly drunken angle due to bent plastic pieces.  Hypothetically speaking, that is.

Step Two:  Next we picked the storage unit.  (again, see: Thank God for IKEA)  While the bedrooms here are larger than many, we absolutely can’t fit four (or even three!) dressers in them.  And, even if we could fit that number of dressers, we currently use the bedroom as book and toy storage space, so we would lose that entirely.  Enter the awesome shelving unit …

 [Seen here still in the boxes.  Please feel free to note all the lovely piles on the top bunk and well, pretty much everywhere else in the picture. ]  The two units will take the place of the damaged book/toy shelf, the disorderly (and leaning) dorm blocks, and a gorgeous vintage roll-top dresser that I am loathe to part with.  Luckily, it isn’t going very far … just across town to my parents house.  And luckily, due to a slight project error (It takes how long to do how much?) and my husband’s work schedule, I haven’t had to part with it at all yet as it’s still in my living room.

Classy, huh?  There’s a small part of me that feels like there should be a red-neck “dresser in the living room” joke somewhere.  Don’t know why, but I do feel that there should.

Step Three: We repaired the damaged shelf from the bedroom and put it in place of this lovely pairing in the living room.  Finally!  A place to put paperwork, school books, and craft supplies … other than the dining room table.  Again, hypothetically speaking, of course … my dining room table is always … eh, forget it … I can’t even type the sentence with a straight face. 

Before:  The Louis chair grouping. .. This is my husband’s throne chair.  True story.  Sorry about the dark and blurry quality.  I do that on purpose so you can’t see how dusty my house is.  If it weren’t blurry, you’d see a cardboard box under the chair that (up until this project) housed all the craft supplies.  Yes, we’re so childproof and no, I did not spend half of any at home day trying to keep Chase out of the finger paint.  Not.  (is it too soon to bring “not” back?)

After Ah, blissful organization!  As my father would always say: “A place for everything, and everything in it’s place”. 

Step Four:  The assembly of bedroom storage units.  (see also: My Husband is Awesome)  The goal is clothes on the top and toys/books on the bottom.  We’re still breaking in the sliding boxes in only a few places …not sure if we like them completely, but you still get the idea …

If you’re visualizing the “before”, this is the exact wall featured in the shelving disaster with piles and dorm blocks picture I posted higher up.  (and by the way, all those green fabric boxes on top of the shelf are where I keep all my cloth diapering items)

And this, is where my beautiful dresser (which, just as a reminder, is still in my living room) used to be. 

Epilogue: We increased actual space in the living room with the installation of the previously damaged/now repaired shelf and we close to doubled the space in the bedroom for clothes, toys and books.   Oh, and for the curious/non-Ewoldt house-visiting among you, the sleeping situation will read one bunk bed, one standard size crib, and one super tricked-out pac ‘n’ play (tricked-out = it has a mattress and is set up like a mini crib).

So this, my friends, is how we plan to put four children in one room and survive.  You know … until the housing market gets more encouraging or Chase goes to college … whichever comes first.  Haha …

Any tips, tricks or suggestions?  Please feel free to pass them along!  I’m always in search of how to do this condo life even better and more efficiently.

Marketing 101: From the Super Sucker

I’m a sucker for marketing.  An absolute foil … easily hoodwinked … a fool … you take your pick.  [I also like using a thesaurus, apparently]

…which is why I had to buy this fragrance of Cascade packs when I saw them in Target this weekend.  I couldn’t help myself …

Hey, for the record, dishwasher packs were on my list … I’m not that crazy about marketing.

I just have a couple questions …

1) How exactly does New Zealand have the corner on the “spring” or “nature” smell market?  [choking back hysterical laughter at the thought of a “Chicago”  frangrance]

2) Does this mean my dishes will come out smelling like the Riders of Rohan?

Dear Proctor and Gamble, Thank you for making loading my dishwasher a little more interesting!

Sincerely, The Marketing Sucker

The Politics of The Parking Lot

One of my original ideas about this blog was to share a little of our lives as a family of five (soon to be six) in a two-bedroom condo.  Hence the e-family tagline: “1100 square feet and counting…”

I’ve been more concerned with the inhabitants of said square footage up until now, but last week, something happened that really got my goat.  It was the straw that broke this camel’s back, so to speak.

Since we live in a building complex made of one and two bedroom condos, we are clearly (CLEARLY) the largest population in any one unit.  Side note: God bless our neighbors.

Most of my neighbors are single professionals or older retired couples.  Because of the second category, there are several who (deservedly) have walking restrictions which have led to some handicapped signage in our parking lot.  It started last Fall.  A dear lady moved in upstairs and due to her walker, the association handicapped two spaces (one for her car and the cross hatched secondary space for room to move her walker – because yes, she still drives).  Okay, cool.  She’s really sweet.  Then, within a week or two, up went another handicapped sign for the couple that lives above me (I know this because they put up the sign and then put the condo number on it so everyone knows it’s only for specific people).  And then there was a new lady who moved in down the hall and she got her numbered space, and then an older couple on the third floor, and this last week, another couple on my floor.  This officially takes the reserved spaces up to SIX.  Also, my neighbor on one side just started walking with a cane and the neighbor on the other side has a handicapped thing he hangs on his mirror, so I don’t think we’re stopping at six.  Stay tuned …

Do I sound stingy?  I’m sure.  Probably because I am.  Let me be very clear: I have no problem with handicapped people.  I love them.  Why does this particular situation bother me?  For this reason: out of the five people who have handicapped spaces, only two have any appearance of handicapping in a way to demand building-side parking.  In fact, the couple who got a handicapped space last week were the same people who were beside me performing rather intense labor as we unburried cars after the blizzard this winter.  I really don’t want to judge my neighbors, there are plenty of things that could be wrong and just not be apparent, but let’s just say that I’m definitely confused.

Here’s my hypothesis: due to a massive parking problem (our building has 28 spaces and 56 cars), people are applying to their physicians for “handicapped access”.  And physicians, not realizing that there could be more at hand than a sweet parking spot at the mall are signing off.

Which is why I have to park here:  in front of a building that is not my own …and walk back at least a mile (up hill both ways) to my building.  [please note the super cool “mom mobile”] Okay, in all honesty, this isn’t bad, and it certainly isn’t a mile.  It only gets uncomfortable when I have groceries, or when it’s winter, or raining, or it’s late at night, or there is more than one child that needs to be carried.  And in truth, we are more blessed than many in regards to the groceries because being in the first floor means that I can often drop off bags on my porch.

Isn’t it pretty?  I’d like to take zero credit for the landscaping.

I never realized how utterly spoiled I was ’til this point in my driveway-rich life.  Those with driveways, I urge you enjoy them.  Revel in every shoveling, black-topping, general maintenance moment!  Those like me whose lives revolve around parking lot politics … I need some input.  Is this normal?  How far do you have to walk from your car to your dwelling?

Craving perspective,

The Self-Appointed Fairness Police