***I now interrupt the previously made promise of a sequel to Summer’s Best to bring you some breaking news.***
My kitchen remodel is done. (Trust me, this is as big of a deal as I’m making it out to be.)
One of the perks of adventuring away from home so often is that my house stays quite clean. One of the downsides is that projects around the house take me a ridiculous amount of time to complete. Take, for example, my kitchen.
My uncle graciously gave a few of his free days to help me remodel my kitchen. Four months ago. I was left with a to-do list. Details to wrap up the project. FOUR MONTHS AGO. Today, ladies and gentlemen, I finally pulled the last of the blue painter’s tape off of the walls. (I suppose that technically speaking, it still isn’t quite finished, unless light fixtures hanging from the ceiling are an acceptable form of decorating now, but we’re going to just call it complete for the sake of this post. And my dear uncle.)
(Side note: It appears that I am experiencing some technical difficulties 😦 I will therefore have to post this without the pictures for now.)
There are a few things I’ve learned from doing this kitchen remodel:
- Crowbar is king. I’ve never felt as powerful as I do with a crowbar in hand. I’ve decided to invest in one, just to hold on those days I’m feeling powerless.
- After every parenting book I’ve read, and every trick I’ve tried, turns out the most effect method of disciplining a 6-year-old is a trip to Home Depot. For the sixth time. In one day.
- I have far more important things to do with my time and money than DIY projects. If you’re anything like me, you have this ambitious idea that even sounds a little fun. Also, you think it might save you a few bucks–BONUS! So you end up buying a kitchen chair (purely for decoration, mind you) that desperately needs reupholstering, only to discover that the cost of the chair itself, the fabric, the stuffing (what’s that fancy word that doesn’t sound so…Thanksgivingish?) the tools, the new fabric because you botched up the first fabric you bought, and OH! Look at that. Turns out you DO need a sewing machine for this project after all. So $300 later, your $50 chair needs to be turned over to the professionals anyway. Lesson learned. (Toughest part of the lesson? Not being able to show off that DIY project you honestly started with the sole intent of posting a pic with the caption “DIM!”)
- So many things we take for granted really could be considered optional. Say, for instance, dining room tables. Drapes. Properly installed lighting.
- So many things we take for granted really could NOT be considered optional. Say, for instance, family. There are days I’ve tried to avoid their phone calls. There are days I’ve tried convincing them (and myself) that I don’t need their help–I can pull off this single mom gig on my own. But they are relentless. I continue to be overwhelmed by their steadfast love for me and my son. Whether or not I return their calls. Whether or not I can ever repay them for any of the things they have done for me. Whether or not I share my crowbar.
Love you, Uncle Craig!