I’ve been AWOL lately because my house has been (unhappily) under shrink-wrap. We’ve have a house painter here – for about 4 weeks now – and though I’m doing my very best to stay focused on the bigger, brighter picture, the realities of having the entire family crammed into a third of our usual space has left me feeling rather stabby, to say the least.
Really, I’m trying not to sound spoiled. It’s an enormous luxury to have hired someone to do this job for us. My husband is EXCELLENT at painting, but given the scope of the job, and the hours spent at his own day-job, he just wouldn’t have the time to get it completed before, say, June.
What started with we really, really need to repaint the entrance and that room with the water damage from three years ago turned into well, we might as well paint that room while we’re at it… which means we have to do the hallway… So we’re doing everything but the kitchen and bathroom at this point. We have plans to do the rest… later.
I thought it would just go faster than this. To be fair though, we’ve intended to make these changes for well over a year now, so no work-schedule is fast enough for me. And I hadn’t really considered all the sanding. Sanding! Of course!! Which means epic amounts of dust to be breathed in my everyone in the house, while it’s busy settling for several weeks. Our family of four slept in the same room together for five nights.
It’s been like staying in a crappy hotel with no amenities or service. I’m off my stride in taking care of our home-life too, because I’m running odd errands, and there have been too many PED days, and sickness… we’re running out of milk and coffee, and clean underwear, and the drycleaning gets forgotten. What’s for dinner tonight? Oh god. Not again…
And staying out of the house dust as much as possible means I’ve not been home. And I’ve had no time/space/inclination to do much more on the computer than email. Le sigh.
But there are worse things though. I know.
Worse things like how last Monday morning we woke up to a lake of water surrounding our kitchen island – the culprit was a steadily leaking faucet we’ve been meaning to look into (until then, a small bowl to catch the drips had been sufficient) but as the reno-gods are not smiling on us, we now have buckling hardwood in our kitchen. We’re waiting on the faucet part to arrive. I’ve had no water in the kitchen since then.
On Tuesday I started to hate the trim colour I chose for all doors, moulding, and ceilings. It’s blueish and it’s bugging me – especially since the taupey-greys I chose are reading pinkish by comparison. But only in certain light. And I’ve decided that it’s my hyper-critical eye screwing with me, so I’m not going to change it. Or cry about it. (The latter has been hard.)
On Wednesday (my birthday!) my nearly-three year old woke up saying her tummy hurt, and within about 40 seconds of my husband leaving for the day, she commenced a series of heaves that would put a heroin addict to shame. Okay, it wasn’t that bad, and her malaise only lasted 24 hours, but she insisted on having me firmly planted next to her for the entire day. (She’s never asked me to “cuddle” with her when she’s been sick before, so naturally I had to oblige her.) We stayed in that night and made ourselves dinner. Martin also spent half the evening hacking at kitchen pipes so we could at run our dishwasher at the very least. I thought it was a waste of time, but 7 days later, I’m VERY thankful.
Thursday I worked on eliminating dark scratches out of the bathroom porcelain sink, where Painter has been rinsing out his tools, and where I’ve been washing the pots and pans. By the way – reconstituted scrambled eggs at the bottom of a bathroom sink looks exactly like vomit. It’s totally gross.
Martin took Friday off work so we could do an epic shop at Ikea (and Home Depot, etc.) which for once, was actually pleasurable without the children in tow (because holy crap, you guys – that part of shopping totally sucks balls) but due to gluten-free Martin, I stuffed down my après-shopping hotdog while he was off fetching the car. I hate that he doesn’t eat bread anymore. Le sigh. Après-shopping Ikea hotdogs are, like, the best part of going to Ikea!!
Indeed, things can always be worse than they are. I’m trying to keep myself in check – my life is fine. Everything will be back to normal really soon. So what if I have to wash my dishes in the bathroom sink? Dust will be cleaned up eventually. This ain’t Calcutta – I have water about twenty paces away from me, the fridge has food in it, and minus
a bit a lot of puke, we’re all healthy and well.
I did manage to get out for my birthday – twice so far, actually – and since I tend to spread out the celebrations until Christmas, there’s still time to get my fête on once my pluck returns. Which I’m hoping will be soon.
In the meantime, I’m trying not sweat the small stuff too much. No tantrums. Besides… Santa’s watching, right?