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. 

Where to Find Poutine at AT&T Park

Let's pause for a brief public service announcement. The Giants announced they would be selling poutine this year, but at the start of the season, it was impossible to find. We came across it by accident, not on one of our many trips around the park searching for it, so here is the location for other search parties:

Main level, near the left field line, at the Derby Grill, next to the Ghirardelli stand. If you are standing behind the bleachers, you've gone too far. 

We had looked at the Derby Grill closer to home plate, but didn't see poutine. Maybe it wasn't on the menu at the time, maybe we missed it, maybe it still isn't on the menu. The point is, it's not easy to find.

Unfortunately we were on our way to get ice cream when the discovery was made, so we still haven't tried the poutine. Next time.

The Madhatter's Tea Party for Kids

Each class at my kids' school has an annual tradition - some event they put on for the rest of the school each year - and kids either look forward to going, participating as a student in that classroom, or reminiscing when they are older. Last week was the first grade's Madhatter's Tea Party.

The stage was set and everyone had jobs, from host to waiter to activities coordinator, and they all rotated for each tea party (there were seven total). 

The guests could select from the menu of peppermint tea, lemonade, grilled cheese or PBJ (both cut to tea sandwich size), scones and mini cupcakes. 

Backstage staff, peeking at the crowd

After the meal, there was a performance with jokes, magic tricks, piano pieces, gymnastics, and dancing. It was more than adorable. Afterward, everyone went outside for hatmaking and lawn games. 

No one went mad. Not even the parents, nor the teachers.

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.

Getting Obsessive Over Coffee Tables

I have spent an embarrassing amount of time thinking about coffee tables. It's pathetic, really. But let's discuss it, anyway. It's a smallish spot boxed in by an ottoman and a wall on either side.

There is this, but it's pine and I know those corners will end up in my shins. Once again, it's pine. 

Or this, which is a pain-free circle, but it is espresso, when the rest of the room is mahogany. First world problem. The plight of an espresso coffee table in a mahogany world. 

This is the one I love, not only because of the name, but because it matches our side table. Alas, it's too big for the spot. 

Yes, I have looked at other places, if you mean Crate & Barrel, because I like to limit myself to places where I have rewards. 

Unrelated, I bought 36 red Gatorades today. No one at Target batted an eye. It seems like something that should require an ID or Homeland Security questioning. 

Eggs, Beans, and an April Fool's Day Non-Joke Joke

Easter happened with the requisite amount of eggs and sugar, both of which I ate as leftovers today, too. We dyed eggs with Kool-Aid after I saw the vivid colored eggs on Pinterest. The problem was our Target only carried Pineapple and Tangerine flavored (colored?) packs, and because I didn't want to hunt down a blue or a green flavor (color?), I ended my Kool-Aid rainbow there. Unfortunately my kids still blended the two colors together, dipping the egg in yellow and then orange or vice versa, ending up with the same orangey-yellow color on all eggs. 

Rocket asked me a great existential question of the holiday, which left me baffled: if we don't hide these eggs, why do we color them? 

We may have hunted for hard-boiled eggs when I was really young, but once people realized they didn't want to egg something left outside for an unhealthy amount of time and possibly mouthed by a squirrel, plastic eggs became king. We make the eggs because the kids like coloring them and it's the one time a year when I eat an egg salad sandwich for lunch. 

Many of you may be wondering if either of my kids ate so much chocolate that they puked. Thankfully, that tradition never took off after year one. However, the kid who over-chocolated himself until he threw up two years ago, took a new approach this year. This morning, he walked out of bed with either a giant bruise on his back or the sign of a horrific bathroom accident. His bed was it's own April Fool's Day joke with something mashed on the sheet that looked pretty gross. It ends up that someone may have eaten himself to sleep last night, and wound up sleeping on a nest of chocolate. The chocolate melted, of course, and looked rather...poopy. I opted against photos.

After a mild lecture, he retreated to the kitchen where he raided an open box of Milk Duds, and was soon busted again with one hand on the box and the other trying to liberate his teeth from the sticky Milk Dud. After both incidents this morning, he asked how we knew what he'd done. Hopefully he is this obvious about his teenage transgressions. 

Later, I found this in a cabinet pull out. This time there are two suspects, and one is not a child. 

Setting All Movements Back in a Single Morning

Feeling fired up about being a liberated woman, I headed to Ikea alone this morning. This is what the Lean In book is all about, no? I haven't read it. I'm hold number 44 at the library and I should expect to receive the book in a little over 200 days. That is the library's real estimate. Maybe I should reserve the large print version because those are always less popular?

Anyway, the feeling that I was unconquerable carried me into the self-serve section. I smirked at Ikea's illustration of two people lifting the box, as I reached over and tried to shift the box containing my small bookcase to one side to get a better grip. Then I knew: there was no way it was going to happen. Sure, the nice Ikea guy who asked if I needed help may have been able to get it on my cart, but was he going to help me get it in the car, then follow me home to take it out? It felt rude to ask. Now I'm left wondering if I can convince Kevin to take a half day off work tomorrow to pick up all of the heavy things I need.I've let down Sheryl Sandberg. And I forgot to marinate the chicken for dinner, so I've also let down whomever spearheads the roll back movement. 

 

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 232 - Done? Not So Much

Our builder would have called our remodel complete last week on day 226, I suspect. Yet, with an incomplete drainage project, a missing bathroom vanity drawer, needed paint touch ups, and a fireplace needing tweaking, I don't think of it as over. I'm trying to be patient that it will all come together this week, but I'm not optimistic. The cranky will come out on Wednesday if nothing is moving forward. 

There will be better photos with source information, but until then, here are some photos I snapped during a tour for the architects. 

While not officially complete, we've already had one party. Let the event hosting begin!

Remodel: Living Off of Stonyfield Yogurt Smoothies

Looking back at photos, I'm shocked to remember that it was only recently that our new refrigerator was delivered. Our old refrigerator has been in our garage, which I thought was going to be just a little less convenient than having it in the house. Did I mention our garage is not attached? And downhill from the house? And the inside was slammed full of heavy boxes? 

The kids survived mainly on Stonyfield Super Smoothies and trail mix. Food had to be easy, with little mess, healthy, substantial, and - here's the tough one - the kids had to like it. After months of living that way, the yogurt smoothies and the trail mix were the only things to stay on the approved list. I have boxes of granola bars that quickly fell out of favor. 

Day two of refrigerator love: YoKids, oj, apples, butter, and bacon. Important stuff. 

The day after the new refrigerator arrived was the best day of Rocket's life (according to him, I would have aimed slightly higher): the TV was hooked up and Stonyfield helped stock the refrigerator. He pounded the YoKids sMOOthies. Both kids debated how many smoothies were too many to drink in one day. The ruling: three is perfect, four is too many. What they really meant was I'd allow three, but not four. They'd drink them by the case, if I let them. 

Stonyfield Super Smoothies are large - perfectly sized for an adult or a hungry Rocket - but the YoKids sMOOthies are kid sized, which means they make a great snack, and before opening one, I don't need to quiz Rocket on how hungry he really is and making him promise to finish it. I like that it's a healthy snack, and that while the kids think they're drinking a strawbana (you read that right) or wild berry smoothie, they don't know that the drinks contain veggies as well. Ha! Rocket wouldn't mind knowing he was taking in some pureed carrot, radish or other vegetable, but Clover would. We grab the smoothies on our way out the door to softball or baseball practice, and the kids drink them in the car. Rocket's other key time is about an hour before dinner, when he knows I'm going to say no to most other snack requests. 

The kids would not have done so well through the remodel without Stonyfield Smoothies. Our new refrigerator has a french door style opening, and at least twice a day, I catch Rocket standing in front of the open doors, admiring the food and counting the YoKids sMOOthies. Every day is a great day for him. 

Disclosure: Stonyfield provided the YoKids sMOOthies for free. We have and will continue to purchase Stonyfield products because they provide healthy products that are organic and sustainably raised. Not all yogurts in the Whole Foods refrigerator can say the same. All opinions are mine