Before I get too cocky, we really only spring cleaned the art/science area and large book shelf, but this was quite an accomplishment. I wish the pictures I took beforehand actually included the table that stood over piles and piles of art supplies or the two bin holders filled with art supplies that had been tossed like a salad by the kids under the guise of "cleaning". Or Blueberry's science bin, filled to the brim with growing bacteria cultures (on purpose -- not because she's a slob, which she kind of is -- but the bacteria wasn't part of that).
No matter. Despite the lack of accurate "before" pictures (just imagine a pre-makeover Oprah guest with horrible lighting that makes her look pasty, a ratty tee-shirt covered in spit-up, and bangs circa 1990 -- that was our art/science area), you are free to ooh and aah at the results:
That there is a fantastic bookcase filled with properly labeled art supplies.
That is a science center, topped with 3 hand-knitted science elves, 2 stuffed red blood cells, and Eggplant's Lego curriculum.
It has ample room for science and medical supplies. Blueberry said it looks just like the cabinets at the hospital. She is quite pleased. You can see two vials of bacterial cultures on the right, top shelf, next to her sutures kit. I had to throw out the rest. They were in petri dishes and were a bit, shall we say, over-grown. I hope she wasn't on the brink of discovering the next penicillin with those.
Though I do fancy myself a bit of a glutton with the label maker, it was Blueberry who decided the elves should have their own label.
We had to move the couch, which butts up against the fantastic art supply cabinet, a little further in, giving us less living room space -- but it was worth it. When my kids are wealthy artists, I am sure they'll pay us back for the pain and suffering.
I'm not sure how Rhubarb will use the weaving loom once she learns it. We might have to find a space for it in her and Blueberry's room.
Here's the other side:
Here's the pista de resistance, the main bookshelf. It suffers a somewhat adversarial relationship with my children, who abuse it by NOT OBEYING THE CLEARLY MARKED LABELS WHEN RETURNING THEIR BOOKS TO IT! But it's not bitter.
I kind of wish I was a wine drinker. It feels like a good night to light some candles, drink some wine, and bask in what will probably be the cleanest night this room will ever know.