Be Building a Maisonnette

What did you yearn to have in your childhood home?

A cozy place to snuggle and read?

A place to climb?

A home for your dolls and toys?

Since the day we moved into our house last summer, our boys have wanted to build a fort/Maisonnette under the stairs.

A perfect hideaway.

A clubhouse.

A special space.

My heart longs to create a healing home where we can rest. As last week unfolded, I knew our family needed a project for the weekend. I immediately thought of the fort. We must have hit the right moment as the construction gears were in motion on Friday night about ten seconds after I mentioned the fort.

JC and Sexy Neck came up with the design. I cleaned out my stuff from under the stairs. The boys found some wood and they were off.

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20140224-124755.jpgHere is the finished product on Sunday night:

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The boys want to put wood on the sides, add a rope ladder, paint, add a curtain for privacy, a bookshelf and a few more nicknacks will come and go.

The boys were incredible working with their dad. Sexy Neck was amazing at involving the boys every step of the way. The were able to measure and cut wood. Problem solve when the wood wouldn’t fit on the platform. The boys screwed in the floorboard, OC was a natural. Finally, they got to choose everything that they wanted in the fort.

Building self-esteem.

Handwork.

Creating.

Bodies and minds in motion.

Encouraging.

The boys Maisonnette designed and created by them.

Being.

Boys.

Be Having Nothing to Give (choo choo!)

We are on a one way track to healing.

Chugging down the track, snotty horns a blaring into my Kleenex.

The rickety old train with its heavier than normal road.

Chugging along.

Not making a stop.

Not picking anything up.

Just chugging along.

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You want to get on this train?

Observe carefully.

Run along and jump.

This train can’t stop.

It may never start again.

This train wants to hide in the shed.

But with three wee train cars on the back, there ain’t no rest.

Weekends, the big handsome steam locomotive comes along to give us a pull.

But other than that we are stuck with the dirty, coal steam engine.

Chugging.

On the track.

Teary eyes forward.

Trying hard not to fall off.

Wow, this is one big hill.

“I think I Cann, I think I Cann!”

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