When we moved just over 2 years ago from our 400 square foot apartment to our 900 square foot apartment, I was beyond overjoyed. I had the spent the the year prior to the move looking at open apartments on craigslist longing for the day we could move.
I will always look back on that apartment with fondness because that is where Boyd and I spent our first years of marriage. In the beginning, the lofted bed seemed cool and was great because we were able to utilize the space below it. We were able to make due with the small kitchen because there were only 2 of us and since the kitchen only had space for 1, it was fine. It was on the second floor of a brownstone, so it meant walking up a flight of stairs from the street and then another set of stairs to the apartment.
It was going to be a great way to get exercise. It had a lot of character (in new york terms it meant it was old and the rent wasn't so bad)
But, by the 3rd year, the apartment didn't seem so charming. That was the year Gavin was born and that apartment was just not that child friendly. Going up and down loft stairs to calm a screaming baby got old really fast. So, Gavin began sleeping in our bed until he was old enough to move. Carrying a stroller up and down 2 flights of stairs and through 3 doors and 1 gate was enough to make me want to stay home. The kitchen was too small to hold a baby and cook his food at the same time. We needed to do laundry much more frequently and lugging a baby, and 4 loads of laundry to the nearest laundry mat was just too much.
I was ready to move. Once we decided to stay in New York and that is was indeed time to move, I couldn't rest until I found an apartment. In my post- partum craziness, I spent many hours looking at apartments on line prior to that decision, so once we finally decided to move, I knew the market and I knew what I wanted. I even knew the building. Luckily, I found an opening in that building and we found a 2 bedroom apartment for a "reasonable" New York rent. We couldn't move in for nearly 2 months because they were renovating the apartment.
The wait time was almost unbearable. Since we had found an apartment and I no longer needed to be looking for an apartment, I turned my crazed attention to finding furniture for our new apartment. I really became obsessed with it. Those who know me, know that I have a hard time making decisions, especially when it comes to things that really don't matter in the end, like what shampoo I should buy, where we should eat dinner, or what furniture was going to be best for our apartment. I spent my free hours searching and searching. It got to the point that I could go into peoples homes and apartments and know where they got their furniture. Pathetic, I know. It seemed so important at the time.
I struggled with what pieces of furniture to buy. But, in all my indecision, I found one chair that I knew I had to have. I loved it from the beginning. I based the rest of my decisions around it. It has come to be known as "mommy's special chair."
So, you can imagine how I felt when I walked in the room and found that Eli had gotten the bowl of blueberries off of his high chair and had dumped it into my favorite chair. It took everything in me to not scream. But, I did cry a little.
*In my initial post, I failed to mention the outcome of the stained chair! I was able to get most of it out. Luckily, the blueberries were mostly frozen, so there wasn't as much damage as there could have been!