It only took a year……

T and me, we started this new journey of life a year ago this month. I upset his daily routine by moving from the home I shared with his father into an apartment. I upended his life by falling out of love with the man I thought I was destined to spend the rest of my life with. Shit happens. Wrong people marry and to carry on would have resulted in a child who would have had commitment problems as he aged. (Look at myself and the bro……children of divorce, father was a total louse and neither of us were/are interested in marriage.) So two years ago this upcoming October I told my ex that I no longer loved him and well……how could you not see the problems?

That is not what this is about. When T and me moved, I had my mattress (a king size that I still am not use to sleeping in alone. Am finally beginning to sleep all over but for the passed year I have still been sleeping in ‘my’ spot-makes it easy when I don’t want to fold clothes, they go on the other side ha ha ha) T had a mattress. I got my bed frame, a romantic piece of work. All curly curves and open and a light color!!!!!! My ex liked everything dark thus I am rebelling and everything I now have is a light color. (This includes my new clothing save for yoga pants and shorts. They are still black)

Let us fast forward through a year of trying desperately to get T to sleep in his own room. I have bribed him, I have cajoled him, yelled at him. There have always been excuses. The ‘moo moo’s’ have returned to live in his closet. (Imaginary scary animals that are not cows from when he was 3) The angry people living under his bed despite it being on the floor. It has been a disaster zone from day one.

I promised him that when I received some money this weekend that we would go to Ikea and finally get him a bed frame. Only problem is the money was suppose to be deposited into my account and instead they sent a cheque to my ex. (Long story short back pay for ex for last year’s CTC from government) so no money in my account. I was going to wait until next weekend but M finagled the truck from her son so I decided what the hell? The ex will give me my share next week and off we went.

As seen in the picture up above, T is pumped. This is the same bed frame that we looked at last year. Exactly the one that he wanted. It was 15% off. Done. And than we walked around Ikea. And I listened to T whine and mutter about how he was dying of thirst. No word of a lie, he followed behind me panting and pulling at his shirt like it was 600 degrees in there. I am pms’ing. I was ready to kill him. When I had to go and get the trolley to lay my large boxes on I told him to stay with M. And she knew so she kept him for me.

Got home and a friend came over to help me put the bed together as opposed to M and me doing it. And thank goodness I asked. I would still be attempting to put that bed together right now had he not. M would be cursing my name. Cursing T’s name. But sometimes I can be a little smarter. My bed frame, king size was so easy to put together, here I was assembling some bomb or something because oh my god!!!! The directions were so complex and really why is there nothing in writing? Why all pictures? Arghhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

As you can see though, T has his bed frame and loves it. Bed time last night and in he went no problems. And his room is clean. Today I am going to Rug Doctor his carpets and move his couch in there. Once I have a table for him, I will bring out the spare t.v. and hook the Playstation up for him so he can watch Netflix and Youtube. Despite the way I was feeling yesterday I am thrilled that T is happy. And it isn’t like I can’t use the newly purchased bed frame to milk a few chores out of him. ‘Cause that is just how this parent rolls. (LOL)

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Author: Jay-lyn Doerksen

I am a single hard working mom in her early 40's. I have always written poetry and I love words. A self confessed obsessive book worm I love for my son and my down time to read. I have a vast array of friends and cohorts who I will be writing about. I hope I can make people laugh or cry; be thoughtful and understanding. And I need to write so this will be my voice.

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