This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things

A few posts back I was feeling a bit at the end of my rope over the broken dresser in the nursery – partly because it was a fairly new purchase when we moved this past August, and partly because I'd done some Googling™ and read some not so great reviews regarding IKEA customer service* when it comes to garnering replacement parts – neither of which would have phased me too terribly had it not been for the wake of general destruction here of late.

It's been fairly relentless.

Just when I think I've finally gotten a step ahead of my boys, they let me know every single time that I am in fact two steps behind.

But tonight I am feeling a step ahead again and even though I know it will not last, I am taking advantage of my improved point of view to offer up a retrospective of some of Nate and Seth's most recent hijinks.

This was how the dresser drawer looked after I managed to wrestle it out of the dresser last week:

We have child-safety latches inside all the drawers that were initially installed to prevent pinched fingers, but they have served us well as drawer stops too. Mercifully, my boys haven't actually figured out how to defeat the latches just yet, so springing one must have been a happy accident.

Happy for them, I mean.

It was pretty obvious from surveying the aftermath that the next thing they did was to climb into the lower drawer. And then possibly they jumped around.

I was in the next room tidying up the kitchen and folding some laundry and apart from the typical noises one would expect to hear from the nursery I didn't hear a thing.

Of course, that is typical of most of their shenanigans.

It all started with this a few months back: 

This used to be the box from a box-set of Dr. Seuss books.

OK, that's not entirely true. Technically, it all started with this: 

The infamous play-bucket version of PooBucket™, featured here rather innocently on a lower shelf for easy play access.

Which was used thusly to procure books from the top shelf:

Of course, Seth's first love once again headed for higher ground and just to be on the safe side, I pushed all the books toward the back of the shelf.

I patted myself on the back a little over that one, but my boys sent a message only a few days later.

It looked like this: 

And clearly said, "we might not be able to reach the books, but we can still reach the top shelf quite nicely, silly Mommy". 

Of course, they also left a trail of incriminating evidence, which led to this:

Bye-bye drawers. Your storage capacities have served us well, but you were never intended to be a ladder for my children.

No pats on the back this time though.

This all happened around the time "MAG-ZINES!" appeared on the scene. The magazines appeared to provide a way to satisfy my babies' penchant for tearing paper without damaging their books, which they were suddenly (and unexpectedly) really into.

It worked out great at first.

You know, until it didn't.

I would leave the room with my boys happily tearing up magazines to make lunch or what have you and come back to find them tearing up their books instead.

Things I never thought could be used to stand on were used to stand on, and my boys? Well, they work fast is all I can say.

Now I am the proud owner of a box of torn up books sitting in my living room waiting for repairs which I've had neither the time nor the inclination to repair – although admittedly, it's the inclination that's lagging more than time constraints. In all fairness, fixing things that are only going to get broken again gets discouraging after awhile.

Either way, the top of the dresser is getting pretty cluttered with toys that can only be played with when there is an adult in the room. I have to say, the Fisher Price farm probably surprised me the most (at least at the time). 

All of which brings me to this: 

No one needed a height advantage for our latest shenanigan. And in case you were wondering how much trouble a couple of toddlers get up to with a handful of puzzle pieces... 

... now you know. 

*sigh*

– L.

*IKEA customer service handed over not one, but two new rails without question. I'm not sure if we just got lucky or if no one writes about the easy time they had getting replacement parts at IKEA, but if it's the latter now someone has. No one even asked to see our receipt.