Extreme Makeover--Preteen Edition

Ten years ago, when Derek was but a wee little lad of 2, Husband and I decided it was time to gently guide him through one of those treasured Rites of Passage in a young child's life: moving from a crib to a Big Boy Bed. Now, for a toddler we were more concerned about "adorable" and "reasonably priced" than long-lasting or high-quality. (Okay, I'm sure Husband would want me to point out that he couldn't have cared less about the "cute" factor...) So we journeyed to the RoomStore and in a matter of minutes chose a suitable dresser/bed combo (that obviously pleased our munchkin quite a lot, judging from the gleeful expression). A spot for your Stuffed Friends Entourage and somewhere to display your Lego creations...really, what more could a boy want? (Besides the crucial bedrail that keeps you from going bump in the night, of course!)

Then as he got older and began to acquire literature of his own (you know, Dr. Seuss, If You Give a Mouse a Cookie, Thomas the Tank Engine--all the classics), we added a little shelf to organize his collection. And when he reached school age and needed a study space to work on all that Reading, Writing, and 'Rithmatic homework, a desk completed the ensemble. From age 2 to age 12, Derek's cozy nook of a bedroom--besides a fresh coat of paint, and periodic rearranging to appease his design requirements--remained basically unchanged. However, our first clue that this era was about to come to an end occurred when his jeans and sweatshirts suddenly got too big to cram into the tiny dresser drawers any more without overflowing. (Not that it bothers Derek; he'll happily outfit himself from the clean laundry pile on the floor that he's ignored, rather than put away...) Then his library of novels reached the point that it threatened to spill off every available flat surface. (I never noticed before how the books get bigger as the kids grow too!) The final straw: his desk--a flimsy, build-from-a-box contraption at best anyway--began to literally crumble into pieces around him. (Held together in the meantime by that Best Friend of homeowners everywhere...you guessed it, duct tape.)

Yes, we got the hint(s): 10 years apparently represents the maximum life expectancy for cheap furniture! (And honestly, for what we paid for it so long ago, I consider that both a bargain, and money well spent...) The moment obviously had arrived for Derek to make yet another special transition: to Grown-Up Furnishings. This time, we invested in a sturdy, genuine-wood bed and chest of drawers set that could (hopefully) stand up to our 5-foot-1-inch son as he continues sprouting...and probably continues to treat his domain none-too-carefully. (That whole "boys and banging things" phenomenon that I have yet to fully comprehend.) An industrial-strength metal shelf seemed like a more practical option for the kind of load Derek intends to pile on (and again, "fashionable" and "attractive" matter much less than "sizeable" and "strong".) Finally, the re-do just lacked a work-station for Derek to tackle his much-more-substantial pile of academic subjects. And voila! A brand new...Bigger Boy Room!