Old News: Past Blog Posts

Tuesday, March 8, 2016

Sawdust and Urine: Part One

Sawdust and Urine: Part I

It's a well known fact that my husband and I are out of our damn minds. Any couple who pops out three babies in 33 months was either already a little batty to begin with or at least willing to pack their bags for a one way trip to the Funny Farm. 

And so, when we decided that 2016 was the perfect year to undergo a major kitchen and bathroom renovation, pretty much nobody questioned our plans. I mean, the boys are basically grown now, since they've reached the ripe old ages of one, two, and three. But just in case we hadn't set ourselves up for total and complete implosion, we figured this, of all times, was the perfect time to potty train. What better time to teach a couple kiddos to use the commode than when you're making plans to remove it from your home? 

Here's where we currently stand:

Sawdust (RENOVATION): I returned home from a 12 hour workday to a house where the residual chaos of the day (day one of home rehab) was almost palpable. To complicate things, our nanny had a doctors appointment mid-afternoon which coincided with our 2-year-old's in-home speech therapy appointment. Somehow, the kids had been able to nap through a partial demo of the bathroom which shares a wall with the 2- and 3-year-olds' bedroom, but they apparently woke up in particularly defiant moods. I've never witnessed a P.O.W. arriving Stateside after their release, but I imagine their face might look a little like how my husband looked when I walked in the door tonight. He rallied though, and by bedtime, was removing the doors from our refrigerator so we could finish setting up our make-shift new kitchen space. Creating a temporary kitchen in your existing dining room is exactly as tedious as it sounds. I'm not sure how often you clean the space under your refrigerator, but for us it's been a few years. The smelly soupy combo of a dripping water line (which BTW needs to be capped when unhooking your ice maker), several years of mouse excrement, tumble-weeds of dog hair, and a handful of wayward kitchen magnets was just about enough to make me gag. It certainly made me grateful that the peel-and-stick floor tiles will soon find themselves in a dumpster where they most certainly belong. Moving the refrigerator was one of those exercises in problem solving and teamwork that will either strengthen a marriage or be cited as evidence in a future divorce hearing. Luckily, for us I think it was mostly the former. I've learned to let the hubs take the lead in projects like this, mainly because I am basically worthless in most projects involving a screwdriver, but also because he just prefers to be calling the shots. We learned that the wheels on our refrigerator are oriented only in one plane, and not the one we needed. Sliding the flattened box under the wheels may have been my idea, but it wouldn't have happened without the sheer brawn of my better half. It's noteworthy to mention the whole project moved 1,000% faster once the children were (begrudgingly) sentenced to their beds. 

And because I am battling what I am fairly sure is round two of streptococcal pharyngitis and would probably benefit from sleep tonight, I will substitute several thousand words with the followings pictures to illustrate today's progress:

The bathroom as it was when I left the house this morning (indeed, we have a blue tub and toilet...it's bananas, I know)

  Here's how it looks tonight:

To quote our astute 2-year-old, "it's brown!" Hell, I think it looks better already. 

The pantry in our kitchen has always been a source of significant annoyance for me. It's so deep, it would take a headlamp and a long weekend to locate the materials needed to bake a cake. So when some crafty bastard (I honestly can't recall who it was) came up with the genius idea to convert it to a laundry closet, I was totally overjoyed. When we were cleaning it out this past weekend, we found an endless supply of expired food items. My favorite was a can of crisco which expired in 2010. Trust me, the space is much better used as a laundry closet. 

In my opinion, we basically went from an episode of Hoarders to an episode of American Horror Story. Upgrade?

Here's our new kitchen. Yay.


After almost a year in pull ups and hearing lots of polite 'no thanks' when suggesting the potty, I finally went to a potty training seminar out of desperation. I came home armed with two pages of scribbled notes and a whole lot of enthusiasm. Since that night last week, we've been in the 'data collection' phase. The entire 'Villiage' has been recruited in checking pants every half hour at home, with the nanny, at school, and even my in-laws house. 

The two-year-old has had some pretty outstanding moments, pooping on the potty twice on day one and even voluntarily heading to the potty seat a few times with the nanny. The three-year-old shit on my nightstand and smeared it on the wall and window blinds. 

Undaunted, we are pressing on. Today, big boy underpants arrived from Amazon, satisfying my Disney-corporation- brainwashed 2-year-old and also the 3-year-old's obsession with The Good Donosaur (which should've been called, in my opinion, The Mediocre Dinosaur). Next step will be to review the weeklong data to establish patterns (ha) and establish an adequate system of bribery (sorry, positive reinforcement). Or maybe I'll just go ahead and have myself committed instead. 

Either way, the house will no doubt be covered in a thin but persistent layer of urine and sawdust for the foreseeable future. 

No comments:

Post a Comment