Tippy Toes and Tantrums

Remodel: Ready to Recap From Start to Finish

I'm finally ready to talk about the remodel. People ask me questions frequently and want to talk about it, but I don't. Part is been-there, done-that, part is that is the wound is still a teensy bit open. We love the house, it's incredible, and it will work well for our family, but there is the part where I still remember the downsides of construction. Every day was a confrontation, from tiny things to huge, potential deal breakers, and it wasn't fun. Not to mention, we lived here among the dust heaps, construction tools and debris with little escape. 

I could not have done this remodel 10 years ago. I don't think at age 30 - ahem - I could have stood so strong for so long. A friend told me last year that her mother always says, "If you don't open your mouth, you open your wallet." I said that to myself many times during the remodel, that if I didn't speak up, I'd end up paying for something I didn't want, didn't work, or was flat out wrong. Here is a simple fact of construction, and really life: you are your own advocate. No one was going to speak up for us. Many times I'd point something out to our builder, only to have the response be, "yeah, I noticed that, too." What I wanted to scream each time was, "THEN WHY DIDN'T YOU DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT?" 

See, the wound hasn't healed. 

Then there are the moments, when I am sitting at the kitchen island on the family room side, working at my laptop, while dinner cooks a few feet in front of me, the kids are just behind me watching a baseball game, and golden light comes through the slats of of the kitchen shutters and I can see the pink roses outside in the sunlight. 

Or there is the morning, when I reach my office early, it's peaceful, and look out at Rocket coloring at the art table, awash in soft light. 

Those moments are perfect and it was all worth it to take our okay house and make it something that will work for us long term through the many stages of our family, with young kids, to teens, to someday an empty nest. 

This week I'll put a Band-Aid over the wound and begin to talk about what went well, what we'd do differently, and of course, show pictures, beginning with our master bathroom, simply because it is the cleanest room in the house. 

Starting Back with a Small Step

So, where was I, again?

Every night, after the first kid goes to bed, my plan is always to sit down to write, but somehow I end up watching an episode of The Big Bang Theory for the seventeenth time. 

Then, when I think about writing outside of the moment of inspiration, everything gets darkly philosophical. Who cares, you know? 

We've gone to baseball games, where I had to buy a $40 hat because we still haven't found the kids hats packed away for the remodel. And it wasn't just the price that was annoying. She looked at every single hat several times, and there are a lot of baseball hats just for one team. It's not a prom dress. 

My son's dreams came true when a mom brought Cheetos as the team snack...and he made it to his sister's game in time to be offered a doughnut. Because this never happens, I decided to look away. 

I've chased down Pagoda the Runaway Turtle, who, thankfully, is stealthy but slow. 

And I lost a lot of sleep to follow breaking news while running through emergency scenarios in my head. My pledge is to make a better effort to always have milk in the house.

Written While Suffering From Post-Time Change Fatigue

WE HAD A PARTY. Or Wii had a party. We invited over our friends - or as Kevin called them, Ninfriendos - for a WiiU party, which was the best party ever and we've decided that all parties should be sponsored by Nintendo because they provided two awesome helpers to run games, keeping everyone entertained, while adults talked and played, and I gave tours of the house over and over again.

I took a photo as we were setting up the food, but then put my camera down and completely forgot about it until it was over. For the locals, the cupcakes are from Sibby's Cupcakery, and yes, they always do fabulous custom decorations without charging extra. (Sibby's didn't sponsor that. We love them a ridiculous amount.)

LEGALLY DRIVING IS OVERRATED. Last month the notice arrived that I needed to renew my license and take a new vision test. Being briefly on top of things, I looked to make a reservation, but the soonest appointment was in April, which helps not at all when your license expires in March. I placed the renewal form in a super awesome safe spot so that it wouldn't get lost, yet that was so secret, I tore up the house today without being able to find it. Hopefully it found the $150 credit from Crate&Barrel that is MIA, and they are both living together in happiness. 

Of course, I forgot about everything until this morning when I remembered my license expires Sunday. Online it said the non-appointment wait was 26 minutes, which I took seriously. If Disneyland apps can properly gauge wait time, why not the DMV, right? The line snaked outside of the building, but I got in line and read an entire New Yorker, even the sections I hate, yet when finished, I was only half way closer to my first bureaucratic stop. It took an hour and a half to get a number, officially putting me in line to be served. Once I had my number, it was only about 26 minutes, but by that time, I'd nearly lost my will to live. I'm sure my picture must look like the Faces of Meth because I felt despondent, even though the end was in sight by the time I reached the camera station. 

THIS LINE from The Daily Show makes me laugh out loud every time I think of it: TBTF (too big to fail) is the rich man's YOLO. It's funny because it's true. It's also sad because it's true. 

THE REMODEL CONTINUES. Final touch ups have ended for the third time. Hopefully that means the painting is over, and I don't come across a huge blob of grey on white or a big spot where they forgot to paint. There are still paint issues, but we need to move on with our lives sometime. Yesterday the drainage work was finished, tomorrow the fireplace guy and the alarm guy return, which leaves only a missing drawer that needs to be returned before this thing is officially over. 

I wrote about Mattel complaining that moms are the reason Hot Wheels sales aren't through the roof, and I made a felt clover garland. 

Remodel: Day 197 - Reclaiming Our Lives Begins Today

The last look back on our way out

We left last week, moving out while the floors were sanded and finished (with the finish used by restaurants, so this stuff better hold up to my kids), and we moved back in last night.

It looks awesome and we're really happy with it. I tried to take it all in because this floor will never be this clean again.

This is the first day of the end. Everyone says the flooring is the last thing, when really it's the last BIG thing. There are about two million small things that need to be done, and right now, my push is to make sure this ends before March 1. The current schedule has it ending at Feb. 27, and one day is not much of a buffer. 

We just want this finished. Now.

The good news is that every day something is happening that gets us closer to finished. I have no idea what happens when because, like usual, I'm normally told x,y, and z are happening today! Only to return home to find w, t, and f were finished, while x,y, and z stayed dormant. But, fingers crossed, knock on wood, by the end of the week, we should have a functioning kitchen and televisions. 

Remodel: Day 186 - Feeling Sick

It's time to admit I'm sick with a cold or something, despite my attempt to convince myself the throat pain was the result of sleeping in this:

The place I'd most like to be in the world is in my bed, in a clean and quiet house. It feels like that is never going to happen. Instead, the house is filled with painters, including the one who keeps wildly sneezing without trying to cover his mouth. I mean, he can try to pretend to cover up. I'm at the library, sitting among a bunch of people sneezing and coughing. It was bound to happen. If this remodel goes on much longer, I will soon become a person who sleeps in her car in the parking lot outside of the library. 

But, hey, paint! 

Remodel: The Two Week Wait

Anyone who has had to try to get pregnant remembers the awful two week wait. We have our own remodeling two week wait that is just as stressful and preoccupying. This week a ton of stuff is being done at the house, including moving every single thing out in preparation for next week when the floors are finished. The floors are all in, getting accustomed to our weather, and on Monday, they will be sanded and sealed. Then, after a week of curing, it will all be over. Not over over, but we'll be able to move in with all of our stuff, returning to the closest thing we've had to normal life since June. Hallelujah, the end is near, we only have to wait two weeks.

Day 179 (last Thursday) - the installation of the hardwood flooring was complete. Kids returned to their own bedrooms for the first time since early July, and peace returned to the land, albeit very briefly.

The little shelves went up in the laundry room. Our builder had been concerned that the cabinets were drawn too close to the window, which may have left the room feeling a little darker and heavier. I like the shelves, yet, longer cabinets would have been fine, too.

The fireplace tile is complete. Hooray! When you want to go with a cold color scheme and you live with someone who wants to go warmer, this tile is the solution. 

The kitchen tile is complete, too. I've had this tile in my garage since May. Miraculously, none of it broke in storage. Seriously, it was a miracle. 

Day 180 (last Friday) - we have clean clothes! It's been a long six months without a washer and dryer. 

Day 181 (last Saturday) - Rub-a-dub-dub, we have a tub. 

Day 184 (yesterday)- The media cabinet is in! It's not finished, but the body is in. 

And so, we wait.

Remodel: Day 129 - The Boo Hoo Edition

The Bay Area's giant batten-down-the-hatches storm has hit this morning. The kids and I sat on my bed, looking out the windows no longer covered by plastic painting cover and watched it go from grey, to windy, to rainy in minutes. This is the day to be lazy, run the fireplace, bake cookies, and sip hot chocolate. Instead, with sore throats and colds, we left the house in the rain and dark early to clear out as the workers arrived. 

Our rain jackets are packed away, umbrellas are somewhere deep in the garage, and we have no privacy. If one of us gets really sick, we're screwed. Between the door trim work and house painters, the place is full of people. Both rooms we're using are covered in plastic. There is no cuddling up under covers while watching Mad Men. There is certainly no baking. And if someone gets the flu, we'll all know because the one semi-functioning bathroom (still no sink) doesn't have a way to close the door completely. Also, there's no door knob, giving everyone a window into the bathroom regardless of if the door is closed. Today, Rocket used the open door knob space as a megaphone to yell a question at me while I was in the shower. "WHERE IS DAD?" We only have two rooms. Asking the question took more time than looking for him. 

I can't look at Pinterest, magazines, or sometimes even Facebook because seeing all of the warm scenes of decorated trees and mantles is frustrating. The house will be amazing, but it's sad that the best time of year is getting taken out by it. I went outside to plug in lights for one tree outside of the remodel area, only to realize we don't have any exterior outlets ready to use. We will not be denied all of Christmas, I decided, and bought solar Christmas lights, despite the price. $80 for some normalcy, I justified.  

The fun is over. Really, it was never fun. I should say the tolerance is over. 

We have piles of sawdust so mountainous, the kids called it sawdust snow. 

Everything is covered in white power from the drywall. Enough that I regret not printing a warning in our Christmas cards that if your card contains powder, not to fear, it is not anthrax, nor should it be snorted. 

We are a mess. When the physical part of the project began, it was summer and we thought it would be complete by this time. No worries about winter clothes or shoes. Everything will be unpacked by then. 

Ha.

I'd show pictures, but my card reader died. I bought a new one, but it's lost under plastic wrap somewhere. Just like everything else. 

Impending Death Star

Yesterday, Rocket said he couldn't wait until Christmas is over, and I couldn't agree more, which is sad because this is my favorite time of year. It's that I cannot go one more day with deep discussions about Christmas lists, myriad revisions, questions about North Pole details, requests for a second sitting with Santa after one child's mind when blank the first time when Santa asked what he wanted. Rocket wants Christmas to be over because he wants to play with the three-page-long-and-growing list of toys he's certain he'll be receiving.

He's been a good boy, especially if Santa overlooks yesterday's mishap where he accidentally released a mouse in the science room at school, potentially launching the Great Infestation of 2012 that will assuredly end in a tuition increase. 

The kid wants Lego, but which set(s) has been such a painstaking dilemma for him. He fully believes that if asked, Santa will surely bring him the LEGO Star Wars Death Star that he so desperately wants. His sister pointed out the cost of the Death Star, but he countered with, "Santa doesn't buy the gifts, the elves make them." I told him the Death Star is incredibly labor intensive, and it's unclear if the elves have the bandwidth for that type of project right now. He answered that he asked for it last year too, giving them all year to build his gift.

Make it stop. 

We've Run Away to Escape Our Lives

We've run away to the Happiest Place on Earth® for a few days, with a one night stop in Santa Monica. There is nothing like getting up really early, when it's dark and cool, and driving far away to someplace warm and happy. We're not even at Disneyland yet, but so far this is exactly what we needed. 

Remodel: Day 106 - You Spin Me Right Round

When the doctor told me the causes of vertigo, she tossed out at the end, "And stress. A very small number of cases are caused by stress." It was no surprise to me that stress caused my head to spin. I was happy that the cause was vertigo and not something worse, like an aneurysm, which was my second thought, the one that followed my first thought of "make it stop." It was only vertigo, which was an immediate relief, but it meant spending the next 10 days keeping my head up for fear of the spins. 

It's now mostly passed, which means I can turn on my side in bed without grasping the air, searching for something to steady my brain. 

This I could not do because I would have become dizzy enough to fall into the fan. 

The fan is running nonstop because the dry wall mud isn't drying - despite being the quick set stuff. We've been delayed a few days, and with rain in the forecast for the end of the week, the guys better be working fast to get as much done as possible. 

In the meantime, we lost the only working sink in the house. 

We have to use the bathtub faucet to wash hands and brush teeth, which the kids view as a ploy to lure them into bathing more. 

Our only mirror left too, which means I now put on my makeup in the front yard using a mirror salvaged from the scrap heap. That was after a failed attempt to use Photo Booth on my MacBook for makeup application. 

We are the hot mess of the neighborhood.