I’m typing this whilst half lying/half sitting up on the mattress on the floor of my children’s floor, which is currently my makeshift bedroom whilst we finally renovate our own room. As we moved into this house just over two years ago, it’s been a long time coming. The main reason for the delay was we knew how much of a disruption it would be, and oh my word it is even worse than I imagined it would be.
As I say, I currently don’t have a space that is just mine, so the children are always around me, I cannot get five minutes to myself, I am stressed, it is cramped, I wake up every morning feeling like I haven’t had any rest at all. I didn’t realise how much I used my bedroom until it was uninhabitable. The finish line feels like forever away, but in reality it will be no more than another week and a few days, but in the meantime, we have to survive what feels like one never ending sleepover as a family of five.
Doing a bedroom reno whilst working full time and juggling my blog is a fresh hell compared to when we renovated the children’s rooms in 2021. Back then I was working part time and I had lots of spare time to do the DIY. This time round I am a broken woman after a weekend spent stripping wallpaper, and we have shouldered the additional cost to have the painting done by a professional.
On Friday we removed all of our belongings from the bedroom. It turns out I have a lot of belongings. I am, in fact, bordering on being labelled a hoarder. I have been banned from putting my stuff back into the room once it is done before first throwing at least two thirds of it out (where’s Stacey Solomon when you need her?). After that, we spent Saturday simultaneously breaking down the awful old-fashioned fitted wardrobes and shelving unit and stripping the wallpaper (and some particularly rubbery paint) from the walls, leaving the room clear for the plasterer, who came in and worked his magic yesterday.
We are now in a limbo whilst the walls and ceiling dry, before he is able to come back and paint. This means that nothing is happening in the room, but equally we cannot be in the room, so to the mattress on the floor we return each night. If we make it through this we can make it through anything, right?
Next week, after the painting is done, the carpet is being fitted, and then it will be time for the wardrobes to be delivered (who knew how bloody expensive wardrobes were, by the way?). Again, we’ve somewhat cheated and opted for the professional assembly service, which is costly, but means we limit the arguments when it arrives by not forcing ourselves to try and put something difficult and expensive together. The curtains need to also be put up at some point, and then it’s the fun part where I get to add the soft furnishings and hang my prints on the wall and make it my space.
After getting used to the old-fashioned decor of the previous owner over the past two years, I am really excited to put my own stamp on the room and for it to feel more mine. It will feel completely different and I am here for it! Now just to make it through the next week or so with no personal space and the very real danger of getting a concussion from the shelving I nearly hit every time I squeeze out of the door of my sons’ bedroom (our mattress is too big for the floor space so there is a small gap of a doorway left)…
