Every 12 months or so I get
itching to rearrange the house. I discover some way that I think my space will be better utilized or will help our lives run smoother, etc. This is how it goes: I make a big mess, move all the furniture by myself, clean up, sit back and
sigh in contentment (or fatigue). This time around it's putting the baby with his big brother and giving the girl a room to herself.
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