The Big Switcheroo

Though we're old as dirt and have been together forever, I'm here to say that Kelly and I spent our twenty-eighth Valentine's Day in our bedrooms. Yes, bedrooms plural—as in Zach's, Zoë's, and Zienna's. Oh, sure, we made it to ours eventually. But by then, we were exhausted, sore, and ready to collapse. And why not? We'd engaged in vigorous physical activity all day. Because on that over-marketed Hallmark holiday, we shuffled all three kids' rooms, furniture and all.

For a few years now, Zoë has been experiencing major Bunk Bed Envy, since shortly after Zach's eighth birthday, we'd purchased him a loft-style bunk and she'd begun begging for one of her own. Her envy turned into unadulterated jealousy after we moved into the house, as three girls on the block had bunks of their own. It became routine that every time Zach went away for the night, Zoë would, despite boy sweat and dirty sheets, sleep in his bed. She loved it, and Kelly and I wondered, since we still struggled to get Zoë down at night, if having a bunk might motivate her to turn in with fewer hassles. I located a cute, feminine model at Bombay Kids—but then Bombay filed for bankruptcy and closed its doors, just as we hit some financial snags of our own. So, the topic was shelved.

Then a few weeks ago, Zach made an offhand remark about feeling like he was outgrowing his bed. Hearing his concerns, a light bulb went off above my head: Would he be interested in switching beds with Zoë? When he said yes, I told him to mull it over and that Kelly and I would do the same.

Talking it over, Kelly and I recalled that when we'd moved in, Zach had expressed an interest in the small bedroom at the front of the house. We'd vetoed him, convinced he should have the largest, quietest room. But with Zach facing baseball games ending at 10:00 pm this spring and 7:00 am band sessions next fall, didn't it now make sense for him to have the room next to the front door? He wholeheartedly agreed that it did. And since Zoë was a slam dunk, I knew the deal was done. Now all we had to do was pull it off.

So it was that on Saturday morning, I got an itch to be productive and decided to move the kids before we changed our minds. But to do so, I faced the daunting task of disassembling and reassembling the bunk bed, which is no small feat. Debating myself mentally, I felt another light bulb go off: Why not leave the bed where it was and move Zoë in there? Presented with the idea, Zoë went from excited to ecstatic. And thus, the move was on.

Though it took most of the day, we managed to clear the rooms one by one, relocate their contents, and toss a bunch of stuff out along the way to boot. And then, figuring that a change of scenery might be a good luck charm, I got really ambitious and dug the pieces to our toddler bed out of the garage, intent on giving it a try. I had to fight to keep Zienna off the bed as I assembled it, and when bedtime rolled around a short time later, she was only too glad to climb on and tuck herself in. Moments later, Zoë did the same in her bunk. Wow. I could hardly believe it.

So, the big move was a win all around. Zoë got her bed, Zach got his room, and Zienna got to ditch her crib. And as for me and Kelly, it appears that after years of nighttime battles, we finally have a smooth nighttime ritual for all three kids. It may not have been a candlelight dinner or a moonlit walk. But as fortysomething parents with three young children, we'll take it—especially since now, we can actually go to bed at a decent hour ourselves.

Talk about a gift that keeps on giving. At that point, who needs Hallmark, anyway?