When last we left our heroine, Bee-Tween’s bedroom was really, finally happening! I had given Bee her budget. (She nearly fainted with happiness; it was the adorablest!) She had permission. She just had to plan, go buy what she needed,…and then clean her room out. Meh, meh, meh. It was happening!

Bee didn’t even have to think twice about the bed she wanted. She had been hunting different loft bed possibilities for the past two years. This was the one she wanted; an IKEA model that would eat up a lot of her budget (and most of the space in her bedroom), but still leave a little wiggle room. In both senses.
I had to admit – it was really, really nice. Solid construction. Beautiful wood tone. The desk and bookcases looked gorgeous. The best part was that I didn’t have to pretend I could arrange furniture – Bee wanted the entire set, so I could just write down the model numbers and pick it up in one fell swoop! So that was our plan.
Except The Plan had a small little problem: the bed wouldn’t fit.
Bee-Tween had measured her room (three different times, to make sure) and brought the numbers with us. She thought it would work – on paper. I mapped out in her actual room back home what it would look like in real life. The real life problem is that Bee’s ceiling slopes on the side, so Bee would be smooshed in the bed.
As if that wasn’t enough, if Bee shifted to lay on the side of the bed (a queen-size) away from the sloped ceiling, the ceiling fan would be inches from her head. So her choices
were claustrophobia or decapitation. Is this a bed or a torture device?!
But Bee was adamant. THIS was the bed she wanted. ALL of her plans were centered around it. I used this handy-dandy bold statement from IKEA that proved my point – Bee’s room was too small! Bee used it to prove the bed would squeeze in there just fine, and continued to have a knock-down, drag-out fight because she wanted the bed that bad!
I spent a lot of time measuring this way and that way in Bee-Tween’s room when she wasn’t in there. I finally found a way the bed might fit. It was going to be a huge leap of faith – I don’t think even IKEA would take back a mostly-built bed…and all the accessories that came with it that we bought because my tweenager wanted it and I wanted so badly to make her happy.
So I crossed my fingers, and said “Okay.”
Bee-girl isn’t the type to yell “THANK YOU!” or run up and hug you. But the girl sparkled and smiled her small little smile and I knew in my heart it was the same thing.
The very next morning, Bee and I got in the car, stopped at Starbs and the bank, and then hit up IKEA. The idea was to turn this into that:
…and I think we did a decent job. But we somehow packed the other half of the store into the back of my RAV, too.
For a girl who doesn’t like to shop, Bee did a fairly good job finding knick knacks and whatnots she could squeeze out of her budget. She didn’t want the two lamps that were included in the display, so she chose a different lamp, one that can charge iPhones and has a USB port at the bottom. She replaced the chair with a wicked cool round 50’s mod that somehow made the desk pop even more! A fancy trash can, a couple of white surge protectors, and a 20′ USB cord that would reach the top of her bed. Until we get a small ledge shelf that she can reach when she’s sleeping, she doesn’t have clock nearby; making her phone even more essential.
While Bee was thinking of all of that, I gifted her a new mattress. She was going to need one, since she was upgrading from two twins to a queen. I didn’t think that was fair to come out of her budget. We found a fancy memory foam one at an incredible price, so I added a new pillow, and she picked out a set of sheets.
Everything fit into the back of my RAV, except for the bed frame. That we had to have delivered, which they were able to do just a few days later! Everything seemed to be sorted out. Bee-Tween-Girl was finally getting her room! It was really real!
There was just one…more…problem.
The bedroom she left at home. Yeah. Maybe she should think about moving just a bit to make room. Meh, meh, meh – details.