In case you have been skimming the blog lately, I’ll let you in on a not-so secret: We’re having another baby- in about 20 weeks. So although our townhouse is generously sized compared to my cousin’s trendy condo in Queens (where they are raising 2 kids in 700 sq feet) I felt that more and better storage would be prudent.
It was a dark and stormy Saturday…
Matt disassembled our shabby, rusted (don’t ask me how because most of it is made of aluminum) shed. The shed was okay, but at 5 feet tall it was just a cavern of items we would toss in and hope not to crush anything important. I dreamed of bigger, more airy things.
You see, what happened was we intended to fully assemble the roof (tar paper, shingles and all before we lifted it into place) but some quick math calculating weight told us that this was a terrible idea, unless we planned to rent a crane. So instead we installed the roof in-place.
If you have sympathy claustrophobia, you might want to skip this little story:
I have roofing experience: thanks, Dad. Now spring break 1996 doesn’t seem so lame! So between my roofing experience and my smaller size (despite being 20 weeks pregnant) I was lucky enough to draw the short straw and shimmied myself up between the joists of the deck to install the roof. In order to move between the joist bays I needed to exhale fully, turn my head to the side, and scooch back and forth till I was in the right place.
On one occasion, near the end of the day-long project I hit a wall. Whether from exhaustion or actually getting stuck I did at one point start to panic and hyperventilate. Now, in my defense I was shimmying down the one joist bay that was not 16 inches on-center this bay was only 10 inches wide. (Damn you deck-construction-guys!) As I was crawling into place my shirt was getting pulled further and further down my front. Which meant the back of the neck of the shirt was tightening down…. kinda like a noose. My shoulders barely fit, my knees certainly couldn’t bend and now I couldn’t lift my head because my shirt was trying to pin me to the ground. I may have whimpered, but before I started screaming “Grab the circular saw! Cut a hole in the deck!” I was able to get control of my breathing and calm down. Thank God for yoga!
Seriously, if this baby weren’t measuring 1-2 standard deviations smaller than the other two kids I wouldn’t have been able to do this project at all! Thanks, Hitch, for being teeny tiny!
I had a regularly scheduled midwife visit and can officially confirm that Hitch was not squished in the making of this shed. Yay!