Renovations have begun...

Renovations have begun.

I'm daydreaming about bathrooms and the kitchen because that's where the people go. How many times has someone come over and asked to use the bathroom and then asked for a glass of water? It's important.

He is thinking about the basement first out of fear he'll never return to the basement if he doesn't start there first. Completely logical although I have this deep fear something will happen to him down there in that basement. I'm thinking about purchasing the "Help, I've fallen and I can't get up device." Wonder if they'll have a Black Friday Deal on that.

Friday night we pulled up linoleum flooring in the upstairs bathroom to reveal original tile underneath. It was beautiful, it was exciting... and then we got the the toilet. It was pretty obvious why someone attempted to cover the floor.

Before:

During:

After. Bye, bye, linoleum.

Love the original tile. Hate the makeshift fill/patch job. Looks like we need to add a bathroom retile to the list. Tile work is something I feel I may excel at between the hours of 7:30 pm and 7:30 am after Jack has gone down for the night.

I have a feeling that's how the renovations will go. Uncover the old and attempt to restore the look without damaging the integrity. The more I study the bathroom, the more I like the style of it. Built in storage shelves, tile on the walls. This is how bathrooms were built with true craftsmanship.

Originally, I thought we really needed to replace that pedestal sink, but then I learned they were a thing of the 20's so maybe we should keep the look.

I like this from pottery barn. $499 is a little much for a sink.

I also love this from craigslist $115. Granite is chipped, but we may be able to  repair. Isn't it beautiful? This doesn't work in the upstairs bathroom, but it would be beautiful in the downstairs bath, don't you think?

Downstairs bath. You need some real work. I can't stand going inside of you. The toilet is against the wrong wall. The shelves belong in a closet. The flooring doesn't make sense. You're all wrong and I can't wait to get my hands on you.  

We Bought a House Part II

Our new old house was built in 1922. Four years after World War I. It was built during the rise of communism before we had public television. It was built shortly after women were granted the right to vote. This house has a story, it has a history and I'm dying to uncover it.

Our challenge is to make updates while preserving the character and history. Some people see a disaster when looking at this backyard. I see a blank slate with so much potential. When we first looked at the house we thought the backyard was tiny, but it turns out it opened up to this larger space.

The front door is arched with beautiful original tile.

This house reminds me of the house I grew up in with original glass doorknobs, built-ins, cedar closets, stained glass, hardwood floors and a walk-in closet.

The dining room is red. The red will go. 

Brick needs cleaned up. Downspouts need replaced. Front yard needs our touch. I LOVE the vintage mailbox and the chimney.

 The back. Grasses need torn out. Fence needs repaired. Patio needs a small pergola with lights.

The kitchen...Oh, the kitchen. It's 15x15 which is a dream for the area. It has so much potential.

 Really, for the area, this kitchen is a dream. It has a nook too.

 Cool glass cabinets and coffee bar area.

Great room. You can't tell, but it's open. I only wish our last name started with an A. ;) Fireplace needs a mantel and something else. Can't quite figure it out yet. Carpet on stairs needs removed.

Side door. Nice touch.  

Stairs are open and beautiful with a window for natural light.

Sun room...Kyle has claimed this as his office, but it will make an awesome play area for Jack once we replace the carpet. 

Bedrooms...these need work. Hardwoods need refinished, baseboards need replaced. Nursery needs painted. 

Stairs to the attic.

Basement...I know, I know...this is when you know the house was built in 1922. Floors need painted and lord only knows what else it will need. I have a feeling we're about to find out. 

SOLD!

Not a Clorox Mom

Dear Jack,

I'm not the most organized mommy. You may wake up to find your nursery looking like a small tornado hit it. You may have towels and onesies and occasionally a wet diaper laying around. Your bottles may have fingerprints on them and your bathtub may not always be sparkling white. I'm not exactly a neat freak, but here is my promise to you...

If it is raining outside and you have been trapped in doors for hours, I will put on a hooded sweatshirt and jump in the puddles with you. If our backyard is covered in mud, I will let you run through it. If all you ever dreamed about was going fishing in the middle of a river with all kinds of creepy crawlers swimming around, I will join you.

I will let you be a kid and I won't get mad when you've ruined your brand new outfit or when you draw all over our freshly painted walls. Of course, I won't encourage it, but I will let you be a kid. I will let you make mistakes and I'll guide you, but I won't stop you from being you.

So, yes, I may not have a calendar hanging with the next 4 months of dinner written down and your pants may not be perfectly folded in the drawer. You may show up at school with a mismatched outfit and mismatched socks. I may not be the most perfectly put together mom, but man am I excited to be your mom and sometimes be a kid with you.

Just Your Average Monday

Tonight I put you in your highchair for the very first time (I know, I know) and you squealed. You had never been up so high. You watched me move through the kitchen as I prepared your nutrient packed sweet potatoes and our not so nutrient packed pizza.

You pounded your hands on the tray begging me to feed you. And I did. I handed you a baby mum to keep you busy and I watched you pick it up and feed yourself like you were an old pro. I sat next to you with a stuffed bear dressed as a pumpkin because it was the first toy I found and made up a little play.

You watched with intensity. And then I told you the news.

"We're going to move soon. Life will be a little crazy for just a little while, but it will calm down soon."

You tilted your head as if you understand the words "Life will be a little crazy."

Yes, it's true. Life is going to get crazy, but I'm going to do my absolute best to stay tuned into you, my priority. I will make sure you have everything you need and I will work long into the night so it doesn't affect our time together. This is my promise to you. I wrote it down. I signed it. It's there.

Moving will come second to you, sweet boy.

Photo Booth

Ok, ok, I'm obsessed. With pictures. And taking pictures of Jack in photobooth once again proving why Macs are far superior to PCs. 

I was looking at them today and cracking up at how much we have both changed.

This was shortly after I found out I was pregnant. I was a little scared:

But I got over it and fell in love quickly.

He's not even a month old here:

You Become What You Think About

Yesterday I received an official looking letter in the mail. You know, the kind that makes you say "What did I do? What did I forget to pay?"

As I ripped it open and read the note, I couldn't believe my eyes.

It was from the Court Traffic Violations Bureau.

"This is to inform you that the following case against you has been dismissed. If you have any questions, please call blah blah blah."

Offense: Fail to stop at sign.

The ticket I had been waiting to show up online was void. My offense had been dismissed. This is one of those moments life was thanking me for being kind. One of those times I was paid back for always trying to do the right thing over getting ahead in work and in life.

This was a moment intended for celebration. And that's exactly what I did. I took a hot bath and drank a glass of cold wine and I celebrated the small victory. Because if you don't stop to celebrate life's simple victories, no one else is going to do it for you.

Ever notice you become what you think about?

You're thinking about space and suddenly you're a space ship. You're thinking about fire and suddenly you're on fire.

No, really.

You become what you think about. When you wake up mad at the world, the world finds a way to retaliate against you. It's like those days when you wake up 20 minutes late. You spill an entire cup of hot coffee on your white shirt. You forget to put on deodorant. Your kid pees on you as you're strapping him into his car seat. Everything seems to go wrong.

Instead of stopping and taking a long deep breath, you write off the day. Nothing can possibly go right today so I may as well quit and try again tomorrow.

I get it. I've been there over and over again, but lately I've been making a conscious effort to chuckle in the tough moments and choose to change the way I'm viewing the situation. Sure I'm now covered in hot coffee, but I love the smell of coffee. Yes, being covered in urine is never fun, but I sure am glad my son is peeing because something would be seriously wrong if he wasn't.

If you change the way you view the world, your world may change. I repeat this over and over on the days that seem to get away from me until something goes right and then I hold onto that moment and I celebrate.

 If you don't stop to celebrate life's simple victories, no one else is going to do it for you.