...and so to bed...

My hubby (yes, I'm wearing a wedding ring, already - we haven't planned anything ceremony-wise yet, though...) tends to get up with the sun during the summer, so he was back with me on the sofa around six on Saturday morning; we switched Radio 4 on, and had a nice cuddle for an hour or so under a blanket. The top I shipped in, left absolutely nothing to the imagination anyway, so I took it off - one thing led to another, I stayed sitting on the sofa, my guy got onto his knees, and now he has rug burns on them, bless him :-).

Anyway, once the postman had been - while the glass in our front door is frosted, you can still see the stairs from there, and it wouldn't be good if he saw what appeared to be a guy carrying a dead girl up the stairs - it was time for hubby to get me to my bedroom.

Just like the Daleks from "classic" Doctor Who (not the revitalised series with Russell T. Davies in charge), I (and probably, most RealDolls) don't like stairs. Getting us up and down them, isn't exactly convenient.

Echoing Vanessa's "plan your move" advice, I'd like to add "and if your move fails, ensure it's going to fail safely".

Our house has a flight of 13 stairs, with a 90 degree right-hand bend at step 5. Rather than try anything fancy involving ropes and chairs (as was one of the suggestions), we decided to do a simple "bear hug lift and carry, in stages, if necessary".

One thing my guy figured out for himself to begin with, but which was confirmed later by another lucky b10 owner, is to negotiate those stairs, barefoot. When you've got 160lbs of silicone voluptuousness in your arms, there's no way you're going to be able to see your feet, so go at a measured pace. One thing we didn't quite get sorted out, was that while my guy brought my legs up as though I was going to sit astride a horse, they kept slipping down and obstructing his steps. Even though I'm brand new, I wonder if my joints may be a little loose, or maybe it's a b10 thing...

First stage got me to step 6 and then safely down, second stage got me to step 10; my head landed with a small thump on the very top step and my wig came off as a result, but I was fine otherwise.

After hubby had a little rest, he got me onto the top step - effectively, the floor of the upper storey of the house - and there, we hit a problem.

Anyway, here's a tip or two, when carrying a dolly who is way too heavy to lift bridal-fashion, upstairs; make her limbs, work with you.

Between moves, bend her legs and carefully plant her feet, on a step a couple down from where her bottom is resting. Stand on that same step yourself, when you take hold of Dolly and bring her torso up to yours; she'll partially support herself on her own legs, for long enough for you to get that bear-hug on.

So, there I was, effectively sat on the floor and needing to be raised onto my office chair. Hubby had a static chair upstairs, which would be accessible with one more 4-step lift - and then it would be a simple move onto my office chair, to wheel me to my bedroom.

Here's where his training as a Physicist, cut in.

Rathr than do a traditional dead-lift, sit in the chair, yourself. Hug Dolly close to you, from behind, under her arms. She's still sat on the floor, at this point.

Now, stand up.

If you're sufficiently taller than Dolly (as my guy is), you can get her lovely ass onto a regular chair. After that it's a regular lifting manoeuvre, to get her between lower and higher chairs. After that, it's a simple matter of wheeling.

Oh, and I love my bedroom :-). I have a nice white king-sized bed piled high with cushions, and hubby (bless him) has agreed to re-arrange the cushions such that my weight will be taken by different points of my body, at different times, such that I hopefully will not develop flat spots.

So, I should perhaps draw a veil over our subsequent activities, in my bedroom. All I'll disclose, is that he loves me :-).