The Point of No Return......

Here is the last picture of how the kitchen used to look......in the past.

We may have still had a chance to turn back at this point, but we are beyond that option now.

I spent all weekend packing it up, getting rid of stuff, and making piles of stuff to keep, in order of importance.

In a fit of ruthless sorting, I just threw the kitchen curtains away!

I should have done it years ago but just hadn't gotten around to it.

Check that off the list.

And now all the stuff I sorted in order of importance has been carried to the basement and put haphazardly who-knows-where.  So I guess I will get a chance to second guess my values at some point in the future.

I am already thinking of that time as the "digging out" phase.

How the kitchen used to look.  Goodbye forever kitchen.  It's been......real.

Last night, frustrated with the lack of enthusiasm that immediate, visual results always give us, we decided to mix it up a bit.

The cabinets are all plastic-ed off, taking away our access to regular forks, plates, glasses, etc.

The kitchen was pretty empty and bare.

So what did we decide to do?

Well.........

Running a chalk line where we want to cut.

We decided to get rid of about half the wall separating the kitchen and living room--that's what!

This was not a fast process, as we were learning as we went.

But next time it will be much faster.

Score those lines.  Make them deeper.  Deeper than that.  OK, now go over it again.  Harder.....

The Grand Finale wondered if we should be doing this, probably because they have learned to recognize anything classified as more work right off the bat.

What did we have to lose but gaming time and sleep, respectively?

We forged ahead, as we are wont to do.

A luck would have it, is a load-bearing wall.

Me and my shaaaaaaaaa-dow, going blindly forward, come what may.

This means we have to leave the studs OR put in a header across the top to support the weight.

The weight of the house.  Yikes.

I opted to just leave the studs in.

Why?  Because I'm tired, mostly, because I don't want to cause problems with the roof, but also because there was no where to go but up.  Remember?

Even with the studs still there, it will be better than it was before..  No point in going straight to the top.  Up is enough for me.  I like that about me.

Not fast--but the results are electrifying. *Not literally*

"I will sand them down and paint them", I said.  

"We can put shelves in, hang crystals from the top. ...or something," said I.

The Angel made the argument that to do it "right", we should put in a header and take out the studs.

By now it was getting late and I pointed out all the extra time, expense and general pain and agony this would include.

We agreed the studs could be fine, what with all the extra air and light, and we can always do more later.

*Like that will ever happen*

(Friends just know this stuff.  It does not have to be spoken aloud.)

Since it is obvious by looking at our walls that there are people who like to punch holes in sheet rock, The Angel designated a time for us to get this our of our systems.

I'm not naming any names, but I am certainly hoping we got this out of our systems.

Put yer money where your mouth is, boy.

Oddly, they were hesitant to punch through, on purpose, so to speak.

"But I'm not mad.....now"

They soon got into the spirit, though.  One of the most important things they have learned with The Angel, and all boys need someone in their lives to teach them this, and I believe it needs to be a man, is not to be afraid to get in there and do something.  Especially when you have the self confidence to know that even if you mess things up, and you will, that's okay.  You can also fix it.

You will make mistakes, but that's okay, you can fix them.

This is a lesson that really cannot be learned to early, in my opinion.

Not to mention, if you are aware of the time and effort it will take to "fix" whatever it is, it *may* deter you from making mistakes more than once.  It also *may* not, but that is up to you, isn't it?  As the Master of your own Destiny, it's all up to you.  Think it over and decide, then do what  you think is best, knowing that you will be held accountable for it and you will also be responsible for making it right.

This is life.

Soon the first side looked like this.

Living room side done.  Neatly.

Once we knew where the wires were, we were ready to start on the other side.

This entailed getting my spice and "goodie" cabinet off the wall and moving a counter.

Which would have been fine except that I had already packed away all the extra Wal Mart bags and couldn't find them, so we had to cover what's left of the kitchen table with all my spices, baking supplies, cake mixes, chocolate in assorted forms, etc.

And I thought I'd thought of everything!

This is how my life goes all the time.

I just consider it a learning experience that never stops.

In for a penny, in for a pound--it's our motto.  I believe this often happens with the realization of the  birth of twins, but I could be wrong about that.  See the intercom system just hanging there?  I DID THAT.  IF you have never torn something out of your house I think you will enjoy it a lot.

I even had some fun walking around and pointing at stuff and saying things like "Okay, 1970's intercom system:  GONE."  "Cabinet-over there." *Pointing*

And it happened.

I did not look back or feel any regrets, but then that's not really ever been my thing either.  I've also gotten very good at it, but then I've had a lot of practice.

All I did was make a mental note to get some more bags for the Shop Vac, which I love dearly.  Did you know they are not any more expensive than vacuum cleaners?

Not to mention, much more versatile?  Fun fact.

Soon I could see light through the (straight, neat) cut in the sheet rock on the kitchen side.

The light at the end of the tunnel has been found.

Then it became a kind of race, which with twins, is par for the course.

Almost there!

Since they had done the first side so neatly, they got to knock the whole other side out.
It was fun.

And that, my friends, is how it is done.

The boys also found renewed energy once they could see the end of this journey in sight.

They sawed faster AND did not hit any wires that would have electrocuted them.

WIN-WIN!!

Then, drumroll..............

Ta-DA!!!!

It was open.  It was light.  Air moved through.

And my oldest baby said "I feel like I can breathe better now."

Which was totally an illusion, because dust was everywhere.

However, we all felt the same way.

Illusion or not, it was much better this way.

After that, we decided to make it bigger.

Because that's just what we do.  

We fly by the seats of our pants, and we do it well!  If I ever get questioned on this method, I just refer to it as a "lifestyle choice" and that seems to be acceptable.  *wink wink*  No one can question anything called a "lifestyle choice" now.  Well, they can, they just no longer have the nerve.

Amateurs.....*dissolves into giggles at the insanity that now passes for real life*

We decided on this size, minus the last space on the left because we have wires.  Wires which we now have to cover up but we know how and it will be easy.  No sweat.

Wires are good as long as you don't cut them, which we did not.  Sorry I keep mentioning this but it is an opportunity I am taking to thank God once again that we all survived.  I tell myself things will be fine, and I remind myself that we do have insurance and even an emergency room, but you know.......I still stay prepared in case of ........unexpected results.

The way the kitchen will be from here to eternity, probably.

So now we return to the really dirty work of scraping and sanding.

Okay, that was a lie.
 We have to start that again, as we have been lazy and dragging our feet.

Still.  Tonight it is back to it, the last of the ugly stuff.

Well, that and finding where we put the plastic forks, plates, glasses, etc.

The adventure continues......as does The Grand Finale's education, which is getting to be quite impressive.  If you are into real men who know how to work with their hands and do it right.  
That is also a lifestyle choice.  One I make consistently.  I highly recommend it, but as always, you are free to make your own decisions.
Good to keep that in mind these days.

Demolition Phase II

Tonight we scraped the popcorn/glitter ceiling and started tearing out bad places in the drywall for repair.

This is my demolition outfit.  I knew enough to wear a hoodie but only after starting to scrape did I add the safety glasses and bandanna.  I was like a ceiling scraping ninja, I tell you, and then we took turns.  It didn't take that long, but the dust.......remember in my dream home I had a removable roof?  This is one of those times then it would really come in handy.  We couldn't even figure out how to get the kitchen table out of the doors.  So not my kitchen hosts the piano, all of the flooring and the kitchen table.  We just work around it.  You can't even get into the Beautiful Redhead's room, but you can shut the door.  I continue to feel completely at ease with this state of construction.  I don't even wonder why anymore.  Just come on in.  Don't take off your shoes.  Drop a big glop of stuff on the floor?  HA!  No problem.  Just let it dry.  If we have to we can SAND it off!

I really should have bought some masks......but at least I was patriotic.

Scraping that glitter and popcorn off made me think of the sweetest 6 year old boy, who had cataracts, that I babysat when we first moved here.  He looked up and asked me if they were stars.  He had such a magical way of seeing things, and I've always had a fondness for that crappy glitter ever since, because I always thought of his little voice asking that sweet question.
Babies always liked it, also.

But enough.
Goodbye, glitter.  Thanks for the memories.  Those I will keep, you, not so much.

We continued getting everything off the walls and then we started pounding in nails and mixing up the mud.

Real men at work.
Before long the cracks in the walls and ceilings looked like this.

That is the ceiling.  It looks vaguely like Texas from this angle.

After cutting out all the cracks and HOLES in the walls, made by boys and hammers, we were ready to mud and tape.

After being filled, taped and mudded again.

The boys learned how to cut a square around the hole to be fixed.

 For some strange reason, people apparently come into our house and knock holes in our walls.  It's a mystery how this occurs, but it has happened quite a few times.  How lucky that I have boys to fix them.  Ahem.

Then they inserted a small piece of board behind the hole, which was screwed right behind the bare spot, to serve as an anchor.  Then they cut out a piece of drywall about a 1/4 of an inch smaller than the hole, and screwed that to the anchor piece behind.  From there, mud was packed into the cracks and covered with mesh tape, and then covered again.  The cracks will take about 3 layers of the mud, with sanding in between layers.  I am recording this because according to The Angel, this is the right way to do it.  We are not going to waste the time not to do it right.

So now we are all covered in drywall dust, and I do not believe it would be an exaggeration to say we even have drywall breath.
I am buying masks tomorrow.  I may even wear two.  Not that that will help the damage done to us all today, but what can you do.  The boys acted like I was over reacting with the masks until The Angel backed me up.

I do not know why boys (or girls, they are even worse-ai yi yi.  Not that you don't still love them) of a certain age don't think their mother knows anything.  But I don't fight it.  I don't really even care anymore.  It's a phase.  It will pass!  This is not my first rodeo.  All I have to do is to arrange for men they respect to throw in a word here and there.
Thank God for Angels.
And good night.
Tomorrow is coming, and we have much more demolition and reconstruction waiting for us then.

This week so far.....

So, one of the boys is playing football this year.  This means that I spend most of my evenings in my car in the school parking lot waiting.  Waiting for what?  Just waiting.  Does it really matter "for what"?  No.  Just bring a book.  This my best advise.  Or blog from your car.  Multi-tasking at it's best!!

Sunday evening, after swimming,  I reminded both boys to put alcohol in their ears.  Four times.  I do not believe either of them did this.

Monday morning I reminded both boys to put alcohol in their ears.  Twice.

Monday at lunch I come home, maneuver around the giant pile of clothes, sorted by size and item, that are currently residing in my living room floor, and go to the bathroom.  On the counter I see the bottle of Glyoxide out without it's cap.

I am certain that one of the boys, probably the younger one, put Glyoxide in his ears instead of alcohol.

Both bottles are the same shape and size.  Alcohol's tip is red.  Glyoxide's is blue.

I sigh.  At some point, probably about the time your kids turn 14, you are ready to let them sink or swim on their own.  Not that you don't hope they swim.  Not that you don't have vague plans in the back of your mind, constantly, about what you will do if they sink. 

Mostly you just sigh and wait for this day to pass.

I did not even put the cap back on the Glyoxide, because that is not my job, either.

Tuesday, the youngest baby asks desperately, "Is today Wednesday"?

"No".  I flatly state, shooting down his hope.



These cooler nights are coming earlier and we are all sluggish with the desire to sleep more and/or allergies.  Our days are nothing but what we must go through in order to get back to bed, where we would much prefer to stay.  I speak for everyone in my household when I say this.


Wednesday morning I am on my second "Ok, I really mean it this time, we have really got to go now!!" trip back into the house and the boys are having a yelling fight.  Youngest baby has forgotten a form that I need to sign and he needs to turn in today, of course.  And wants Oldest baby to just "put his name on his" form and then turn in one form for both boys.  Older baby said "forget that, dude."  Youngest baby appeals to me, his mother, who loves him, for help. 

It's hell being both mother and father to these boys, but I must say I do a pretty good job of it.  I just ask myself what I would do with a grown man who tried to pull that crap on me, and then act accordingly.  I figure I am saving an unknown number of women trouble in their not so distant future this way.  It has never been my intention to raise any fools, let alone crybabies.  The world needs men, and I intend to increase this world's "men" be at least 3.  I think it was all those years of complaining about "men" that made God put me in this situation.  I hope it is clear that I no longer give God reason to basically say "OK, babe, put your money where your mouth is, I am tired of hearing this same line of whining", but I am only human.  You will have to wait and see just like I do.

So I tell Youngest baby to suck it up.  It was his responsibility to bring home the paper and he didn't, so he will have to pay the consequences.  He is not happy and sulks all the way to the car.  While we have a few minutes because we are STILL waiting on Oldest baby, I say "listen, you are getting to the age where nobody is going to accept these silly excuses.  You are old enough to know better and you are just going to have carry your own weight.  To accept these excuses would mean that I am helping to set you up for a lifetime of bitter disappointment".  He screams at me that he knows.  I shoot lasers out of my eyes and he settles into a subdued sulk.

I drop off the boys at school and am fool enough to think I am free now to remember what my own day holds.  I remember again that it is Wednesday, finally!  I start to feel the stress leave me.

My phone rings as I am just turning off of the road that leads to the school.

It's the middle school where I have just about 2 minutes ago dropped off the boys.

"Mom?  Can you come back to school and sign my paper?  I found it!"






............."yeah.  I'll be there in a minute, honey."

I also have to be the sweet mother who will drive for miles just so you don't miss turning in your papers on time.

This is my life. 

Every time it runs smoothly for any period of time, something changes.

I just go with the flow.  Right now, that involves a lot of driving, waiting, and dog hair.

It could be worse.