Really.
You see, as we contemplate how to fit our family into various houses that we have attempted to buy or are considering buying, we’ve also been contemplating furniture changes — some critical, some needed, some we’d like to make.
At one point, a bunk bed for the kids was on the table.
Somehow in the course of my internet research, I found this breathtaking fantasy bunk bed from CedarWorks. (This is not paid advertising, my only material relationship with CedarWorks is that they sent me a catalog in the mail. After I asked for one online.)
I needed the catalog because the web site doesn’t have any prices. You can design your own fantasy playset or bed and ask them to send you a quote by email, but you can’t actually see that an adorable bubble shelf wall-panel for your bunk bed costs $175. (Not for the bunk bed; for one of the panels that makes it kind of a bunk-bed playhouse. That’s a heckuva lot more.) (CedarWorks? Please come join the 21st Century; it’s very nice here! Let us see the prices online. Please. We can handle the truth. And if you’d like some help communicating with Mommybloggers or other social media, we should talk.)
That’s also my only complaint about their web site. They have the coolest online design tool ever, where you can configure a playset or loft bed or the bunk bed of your dreams.
Do not ask how much time I spent playing with that tool. Or how many imaginary beds I saved, or whether or not they were REALLY for Noah & Josie. (Or for 9 year old bookworm Liza.)
Seriously. My new lottery-winning fantasy involves these CedarWorks Rhapsody “playbeds” for both children. Ahem. Maybe they will let me play or read in there with them.
For Noah, I’m daydreaming about the fire pole exit, a climbing wall panel, and a nice private nook area where he can go when he needs his “Don’t look at me!” space.
For Josie, my fantasy involves a slide exit with a hiding nook underneath, flowers you can peek through, and those adorable bubble-shelves I mentioned above.
Possibly both of them get chalkboard panels in this fantasy. If I could make it look nice.
Nine year old Liza would have been all about the reading nooks, with as much hiding ability as possible.
I’ll let you know if I win the lottery and can move these daydreams into reality. But even if that never happens, I’m enjoying my children’s furniture fantasy quite a bit.
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