If you know me, or have even been around me for 11 seconds, then you probably know that I am going batsh*t crazy that my children have ravaged the insides of my house beyond repair. Ok, perhaps that's a little on the dramatic side, but coming from a formerly Type-A person who was very neat and orderly, it sure feels that way.
I suppose The Deterioration of My Pretty House all started with us having to move our coffee table down to the basement when Chatterbox started walking. We didn't want her banging her head (or her toys) on our glass table and injuring herself or breaking the furniture. After that it was downhill. Giggles arrived and soon, our once bright beige area rug in the living room slowly became overrun with random pieces of dried play-doh, faint juice stains from leaked sippy cups and crayon tips ground into the fibers. We figured, why bother replacing it now? Let's just ride out the toddler years before we get new things. Stray pen marks on the leather couches soon followed, along with mysterious pencil hand tracings on the Venetian hallway walls. Mickey Mouse stickers littered the French doors to the deck and the dining room carpet suffered from uncanny portions of meal after meal ending up on the floor instead of in the kids' little mouths.
Ah the dining room. Though I realize calling it that is a it of a stretch since the term "dining room" invokes visions of a color-coordinated Pottery Barn catalogue, boasting a sleek table and chairs surrounded by soft hues on the walls and chic light fixtures and uncluttered sideboards. That is not what my dining room looks like. You already know about the carpet and the French doors. In addition to that, picture an overflowing "craft cart" for the kids, a Jumperoo shoved in the corner, a highchair in the other corner, our decorative vase put out of reach onto the buffet (about 9 months after L'il Buddy's arrival), and then...THE TABLE AND CHAIRS.
This is where my rope ends. Our dining room table is in such bad shape that I literally sigh out loud every time I see it. It's scratched, written on, the varnish is peeling, and there is even a worn index card taped to the side of it labeled "la mesa" for the children's bilingual learning pleasure. The chairs are rickety and the cushions, once beige, are now unrecognizable; stained beyond comprehension. I used to cover the table over with various tablecloths because I couldn't stand to look at it, but it ended becoming too much of a pain to cleanup after meals and the kids would bunch it up while trying to do their crafts/homework and complain about it. So off it came. We've come very close to replacing the dining set on multiple occasions, only to reconsider and say "why bother?" After all, L'il Buddy will be tearing it up next.
And so follow my questions: How does your dining room or kitchen table survive the daily wear and tear? What kind of table do you have? How do you maintain it? How do you maintain your sanity? I am in search of a new dining room table. And peace in my soul.
Photo courtesy of Pottery Barn. Lest you think it was an actual photo of my dining room. Which, I can assure you, it is not.