Thursday, 8 June 2017


Can we just talk about Ikea for a minute…and how they get you to buy everything that you just didn’t know you needed until you saw it there?

I went on the weekend with a plan. I even did a little sketch of how I intended on styling my Kallax boxy unit thingy. I knew exactly what I was going to buy. I anticipated the odd candle or two making their way into my trolley, they always do; a new corner sofa though…I did not anticipate that! But they got me! I saw it and then just like that, decided to rearrange all the furniture in my living room to make space for said corner sofa bed.

It wasn’t a completely spontaneous decision, in that I have been considering the logistics of our living arrangements as my little one becomes not so little anymore.  We have shared a bedroom since she was born (having only two bedrooms and a teenage son, it seemed only fair that I be the one to share a room with a crying baby). However, in the last few months, whenever I have gone up to bed it is as if she knows I am there and even though she was sound asleep, the moment I climb into bed the demands for milk come. And they aren’t nice, ‘please mummy, can I have some milk?’ they are monosyllable grunts for more ‘nilk’.

Then there are the occasions when I creep into bed, think I have done my best to go unnoticed and there she is, standing up in her bed wanting to get in mummy’s bed for cuddles. There are two main reasons why I relent: 1) when working it feels as though there is never enough time for cuddles, 2) it is so much easier than trying to settle her back into her own bed.

So I have been toying with different ideas, knocking walls down, putting new walls up, finding a rich husband who would have a dream home ready for me or perhaps looking for a new house that I might have to buy myself-this just made me want to cry; I started looking at houses a few months ago, it was impossible to find anything that didn’t resemble a time warp or was so far from work and my family and friends that I would have to change more than just my postcode. I decided that I liked my little corner of London, it was home for now and I would make the best of it.

I decided against knocking any walls down, I contemplated it, got quotes for it and then the thought of the dust and the palaver of getting consent from the freeholder. For surveys and drawings, and someone to tell me if the walls were load bearing, supporting or just in the way, was going to cost me more than a new Mulberry. I thought it was just a matter of knocking on the wall a few times-apparently not.

Considering all my options, one of which was for me to move downstairs, I started looking at sleeping options for someone who had been kicked out of their bedroom and demoted to the living room. Really, at 33, I’m not sure how much I really need a bedroom-it’s not as though I have posters of my favourite band to hang on the wall or need someone to sulk in when my mum tells me off; whereas both the kiddos have far more shit than I do and I would much rather it be upstairs and out the way than downstairs where I spend most of my time anyway. It’s also not as though I will be inviting any gentlemen callers round any time soon so am really not in the need for a romantic boudoir.

I have spent quite some time looking at different sofa beds, day beds, hidden wall beds (again, not really an option as I don’t want it to be a permanent feature of the house) so whilst my Ikea purchase wasn’t completely spontaneous, I did not go there with the intention of making the purchase; I was planning on ‘just having a look’. Does that ever happen in Ikea?

With sofa bed bought and delivery planned for the next day, I then had the task of rearranging the room to make space for the new arrival. The main intention of going to Ikea was to get a few new storage boxes and maybe a few plants (which I will probably kill as I always forget to water them, until they are wilting, the leaves are curling and they are pretty much ready for the compost heap).
Quite a few hundred pounds later, I had all of that and more, including a bag of mini Daim bars-I’m not even entirely sure if I really like them {having not eaten one for years} but I now have more than enough to eat and make my mind up. *Update and verdict: I like the initial crunch, and chocolate of course, but fear for any dental work I may have had done in the past as the inside bit, I assume it is pure sugar, sticks to all crevices.

Saturday was spent rearranging furniture and faffing with shelves, boxes, plants and pictures and then on Sunday came the task of building the new sofa bed, after it was delivered. Thankfully, I am relatively handy with an allan key and having learnt to take my time and look at the instructions really carefully, on more than one occasion (in fact, it wasn’t until I was dismantling my dressing table that I realised I had but one of the front curvy legs on the back-oops) I have had to take things apart and reassemble as I didn’t get it quite right the first time round. But not with the sofa bed! I took my time {stopped for the occasional Daim bar} and managed to put it all together without any need to disassemble anything, effing and jeffing at the whole idea of flat pack sofas. And with it perfectly build and the room finally restored to {its new}order, it seemed only right to pull out the sofa bed and have a little snooze. 

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