Mistakes

Not many people know this, but I kind of pride myself on being somewhat of a handyman. Or handywoman. Growing up with a father who is essentially a grown up boy scout and the type of guy you want with you if you happen to be stranded on a desert island and with a mother who instilled in me the fact that I could do absolutely anything I wanted, I was destined to become pretty awesome.

Now, I'm not talking major fix-it jobs. But I know my way around a tool box pretty well. And I'll be honest, stores like Lowes and Home Depot kind of feel like home to me. So when I purchased some furniture for Blake's room I was up to the task of putting it together...all by my 32-weeks-pregnant self.

I knew it probably wasn't smart to take on the job of constructing a dresser on my own when I'm 8 months pregnant. I knew there was going to be a lot of bending and some light lifting. But that's not really where my mistakes started.

First off, the fact that I even entertained the idea of doing something that would require all of my attention, small parts, and eventually power tools when I have a 2 1/2 year old running around was just silly. Especially since my 2 year old probably asked, "What happened, Mom?" about 5,000 times during the course of construction.

Second, when the directions that come with your Ikea dresser say (or rather show, since they only use pictures in their instruction manuals) that the construction of this product is a 2 man (or woman) job, trust them.

Third, Ikea may be right when it comes to the number of people it will take to put together your product, but they might not be 100% correct in how to assemble said product. This is where the ability to picture all of the parts coming together to form the finished product is beneficial. (A skill I apparently didn't possess when putting this dresser together.) You see, I followed the directions, but when the directions are incorrect it's  going to lead to some disassembling and then reassembling. And then some drilling. And hammering. And the use of pliers. And then more drilling. And maybe a minor swear word. Maybe.

Fourth, pregnant Whitney = emotional Whitney. Emotional Whitney cries out of frustration.

Eventually I was able to put the most of the dresser together. I left the construction of the drawers for Evan to do because Netflix can only keep Blake entertained for so long.

So, lessons learned: I am pretty awesome with power tools. I am incredibly emotional when pregnant. Following instructions only helps when they aren't wrong.