Anatomy of a Flip: Forward then Backward

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action shots by Kennedy

House Project 2010: Weeks 5, 6, 7

Apparently, I don't know how to read house plans.

'Cause if I did, I wouldn't have cried for 2 days straight when our addition's outer shell first went up. I wouldn't have spent 2 days all weepy and droopy because it didn't look exactly like I thought it should. I wouldn't have wasted 2 night's sleep having horrible dreams that the newer part of the house ate the older part of the house and then burped and laughed with a wooden smile. I wouldn't have distorted it in my mind so drastically that I kept telling people it was taller than the mountains and that it could be seen from space.

Thank goodness for a calming husband and reassuring friends who have an easier time seeing what things will eventually be. Thank goodness for promises that I will love it in the end and that I need to learn patience.

And. Just. Wait.

{Sometimes I feel like Veruca Salt. "Don't care how, I want in NOW!"}

After several days of decompressing, lots of deep breathing and - let's be perfectly honest here -emotional eating, I am loving what I see. I get more and more excited everyday. My mind has mellowed and my visual distortion has waned. It's going to be a space we love and will enjoy for years and years. The charming character I'm yearning for will come with the colors and trim and detail work. The waiting part of it all is good for me.

The plan behind the addition was guided by 2 factors. First, we needed more square footage and we only wanted to go through this whole construction process once. We know people who've added rooms onto their homes and have regretted that they didn't go bigger from day one. We need space for our family. And that space takes up space. I somehow thought we could add on the new 1700 sq. feet (finished) and additional 885 sq. feet (unfinished basement) and a large 2 car garage, and have it all magically flow and be in perfect scale with our historic home. Don't know what I ate before I cemented those illogical thoughts into my mind, but whatever it was, it had mind bending effects.

Second, we knew we didn't want to be too invasive to our pioneer home. We didn't want to disturb the historical qualities by ripping off large sections of walls and directly attaching a new structure to it. Plus, who knows what would happen in such a case with adobe brick and rock? So, we chose a small section - an entire exterior wall of our kitchen - and will be tying the addition in there. In short, we'll have a historic home, an extended kitchen eating area (enclosed in a breezeway that ties the old to the new), and a new addition that will house a new family room, new master suite, half bath, new laundry room, and lots of storage.

Here's the agenda:

Historic home: new exterior paint (historic yellow!) with newly built black shutters, white trim, red front door, porch redone with squared off decorative shakes, resurfaced porch, new sidewalks, and expanded/extended front flowerbeds. Carpet and flooring replaced throughout, new interior paint, decorating and repurposing of a lot of rooms. The current laundry room and half bath that sits off the kitchen will be rebuilt as a pantry with lots of storage for kitchen stuff . Can't wait for that. Our current front TV room will be turned into a piano room with our 1907 piano as the focal point. The opposite side of the room will be used as an office/computer/homework area. Kennedy will get our bedroom downstairs with her own bathroom. Taiden will move into Kennedy's current room (after it is no longer purple). Brittan and Shaw will share the larger kids' room upstairs.

New addition: from the outside, it will act as the carriage house/barn for our historic home. It will be sided in hardiboard and will be a pretty grayish-brownish color. Still working out that color scheme. It will have 2 carriage style garage doors with carriage windows built into the structure (rather than just in the garage doors), all framed out in trim. Lots of windows throughout. In the family room, the walls are really tall....I think 17 feet? Then it pitches up with the trusses. Love it!

{Lots of space for spiders to spin webs (to their 8 eyes' content) knowing full well it's way too tall for me to ever reach without scaffolding or some sort of launching pad.}

Historic home and its new neighbor - the overly ambitious carriage house.

Below, future space of half bath, laundry room, closets. Above, loft area, our bedroom and bathroom.

His and Hers closets.

Loft area upstairs.

It's not just a rumor - construction workers DO bring their own methods of cooking to the job site.

New Master Bedroom.

Loft area looking down to family room. Fireplace, with a raised hearth, is framed out between those large windows.

Stairs going up to bedroom. The stairs going down to the basement are beneath this staircase (it's hard to see in the picture).

Window in new laundry room.

A shot of the addition from the future breezeway.

This old kitchen wall comes out the end of this week. It is going to be MESSY! I may choose to not be home that day.

Front view of breezeway. Still waiting for a roof. The kids will access the house through this area (there's a door to the garage that the picture doesn't show) when they come home from school. Can't decide if we want it cemented in or use large stepping stones with mossy plants all around.

Backside of breezeway. This may be one of my favorite parts of the whole project. This will become the courtyard. We'll pave it in, put outdoor rugs and furniture out there, and it will be a quiet and removed patio area for us to enjoy. Taiden is standing in the doorway of the breezeway that will basically be an extension of the kitchen, so food and drinks will easily be accessible. The family room also has access to this area through the atrium door (shown but no stairs are there yet).

We're feeling like the Clampetts from the Beverly Hillbillies. Only we haven't struck it rich in the Ozarks...

...we're just a mess and there ain't a darned thing I can do about it. We just need a few pigs and chickens runnin' around out yonder, and we'd really be the talk of the town.

Our latest project. The dreaded kitchen cabinets. Before. A yellowish wash on the wood.

Newly painted. The color is called Mascarpone. (The color is really off in this picture.)

I had someone come give me a bid to have it done professionally. $3500! Um, no thank you. $75 later, hours and hours of sniffing paint fumes, and I'm happy with the results.

The counters will be replaced with a black textured top and the kitchen will be repainted a cheery, apple green...

...and if the budget will allow, I want to use these glass tiles for the back splash.

Choosing to Follow

On Sunday, while at church, I sat between my 14 year old daughter and 8 year old son.

Many couples have the strict rule that they will never let their children come between them - even when it comes to the Sacrament Meeting pew. Jeff and I, however, are not one of those couples. Seating assignments are strategically thought out long before we walk into the chapel. The Sabbath morning routine - on any given week - helps us determine who is going to be able to sit by whom. An early accounting is taken of squabbles and nitpicking between our children, and potentially irreverent combinations are broken up before their fannies even hit the bench.

That's why I was sitting between my 14 year old daughter and 8 year old son.

{It was for the betterment of the congregation.}

As we started to sing the opening hymn, I noticed that Brittan was sitting quite snugly to my side. As the music continued, I realized that he was listening to me sing. He was trying to follow my lead with the song. It was a hymn he was unfamiliar with, so he couldn't carry the tune on his own. As a result, he was singing Alto - just like me. His young voice was trying to chase mine - up and down the staff to the various notes.

Kennedy was also singing. She, as well, was singing Alto. Only with her, she was a little more musically steady. She has sat by my side through hundreds of Sacrament Meetings over the years, and her ears have become accustomed to picking out the lower notes on the treble clef. The notes that balance and soothe. The notes that let the Sopranos take the glory, but are still vitally important to the beauty of the piece. She is a good little singer - hearing the harmony and symmetry of the music.

As I sat between them, I started to think about how we strive for this type of situation as parents. On the one hand, I had a younger child who was following my lead because he thought I had the answers and I knew what to do. He was unsure of where to go, what course to take (sing). He listened attentively and wanted to be like me. I was his mom and he respected my ability to guide him through the task at hand.

Kennedy was slightly different. She had her independence but, from time to time, was choosing to reconnect with me to make sure she was where she needed to be. She wasn't following blindly - like her brother. She had enough skills and knowledge to act on her own, but she still wanted to look to me for some guidance. She, too, wanted to be where I was. She was choosing to follow me.

{I wish this example could carry over into every other aspect of my parenting world.}

Being a parent is easy. Being a good parent is tough.

The key is to do enough things correctly when they are young, that they have faith in you. They trust you and your judgement. They want to emulate your good qualities as they grow older and more independent. They want to be like you in character - in word, in deed.

The key, and the ultimate parental challenge, is to be the kind of example that they want to follow.

My State of Mind

image via my friend's blog

Let's see.

This past week I've...

1. ...watched the framing of my home continue and realized that what the plans show is not always what reality dictates. Most people worry about a new addition being too small. I, however, have worried about it being too big. My mind's eye envisioned (and the plans showed) a perfectly quaint carriage house attached to our pioneer home, but I think we're going to end up with one Brobdingnagian barn. A barn big enough for most of the animals in our town. It is large. It is mammoth. But in the end, it will all come together, it will be beautiful, and the parties will be fan-ta-stic!

(And Jeff is stoked that he gets to sleep in the hayloft.)

2. ...watched one of our walls get blown over in the storm of 2010. The paranoid side of me wondered if the original owners of this home were displeased with the progress and had anything to do with the gust that took down the timber.

(I also wondered if the animals were going to start gathering two by two.)

3. ...done 11 hours of new construction cleaning with a friend to earn some money. New construction cleaning is easy but very dusty.

4. ...met with our contractor to get a breakdown of all the things that need to be picked out for the addition. Passing that buck over to my friend, Randee. I know whatever she decides will be beautiful. (Just stay away from mauve, please.)

5. ...readied two boys for scout camp. Scout shirt? Check. Sunscreen? Check. Swimming suit and towel? Check. Lunch and spending money? Check and double check.

(Also warned them that there will be a thorough tick check when they get home.)

6. ...decided that I didn't have quite enough on my plate this week, so opted to start painting the kitchen cabinets. I, at first, thought I would take it slowly and give myself a month to get it all done. Now that I know they want to tear down my kitchen wall in one week (to tie in the addition), I now have exactly 6 days to get it finished. With the amount of dust and debris that will be swirling around my house (from the adobe brick and 18 inches of solid Farmington rock) I figure I better get the painting done now while I have a dust free environment to work in.

(Everyone, friend or foe, is invited to my house for one continuous painting party. You provide the (wo)manpower and I'll provide the treats and intoxicating fumes.)

7. ...told my kids that the amount of money we threw away at the dentist office this week (curse you cavities!) could have bought us all season passes to Lagoon.

(Or allowed me to hire some help for my current painting project.)

8. ...worried that this blog will soon become a dumping ground for all of my house addition woes and angst. I promise to try and not let that happen (too often). The stress and pressure that everyone warned me about is starting to creep in. I'm seeing it in our faces, in the underlying current of daily life, in the amount of television being watched by my children, and in the quality of our dinners lately.

(I don't want to be a whiner. Please don't go away, blog friends.)

9. ...realized I'm really good at avoidance behaviors. If my fingers are busy typing on the computer, how can I possibly hold a paint brush?

I need a hug.

The Birthday Project

Our T-Man turned 11 on Sunday. This was his gift.


Since we'll soon be the proud owners of our very own driveway (can I have a shout out for cement?!), we figured it was time we bought a basketball standard. Our children have lived such a deprived existence up until this point, but playing b-ball on gravel doesn't make for easy dribbling so they've had to go without.

The stand didn't (and still doesn't) look like the above picture. The boys and Jeff have been working on it - off and on- for the last 3 days and they're only on step 26 of the 31 steps outlined in the instruction manual. There was not a single screw or bolt in place when they pulled it out of the box. It has been quite the process but has been a great lesson in patience and endurance.

If I was a betting woman, I'd wager that we'll be playing Around the World by dusk tonight. And we'll be kickin' it old skool by playing out in the street. The driveway is still a few months away.

Where's Dorothy? (Reposted with more pictures)

If I'm not mistaken, summer is meant for summery things. And by summery things I mean swimming, popsicles, and long bike rides. And definitely picnics. Yeah, picnics are very summery.

{picture via Google images}

Currently, we're hunkered down in our home waiting out the storm. The trees outside are being bent as well as 150 year old trees can bend, but dozens of branches are quickly becoming casualties of the storm. Our little town is in the rinse and spin cycle of Mother Nature's mood swing.

Doesn't she know she's supposed to be happy the middle of June?

While I love a good rain storm and wind can be kinda fun every once in a while, the combination of the two is unnerving me today. The sheer power and magnitude of the elements mixed with the knowledge that we are completely weak and helpless is a humbling and intimidating place to be.

For example:

This is a 2 story wall (24' long) that was braced for the weekend but obviously not secure enough for the tempest. When we woke up this morning, the addition seemed to be holding up but it quickly became apparent that this wall wasn't going to make it. As the braces gave way and the base of the wall busted out of the driven nails and started to teeter, we immediately called Jerry. He is our contractor, (who had just driven by our house a few minutes earlier and thought everything was sound and safe) and he came down to see what he could do. Lucky for us, he's our former Bishop, a fantastic guy, and lives about 3 blocks away. He and Jeff tried to reattach the braces and somehow get the massive wall of wood to stay in place, but they soon realized that no such thing was going to happen. Jerry was straddling a support board when the second half of the wall went down and it swept him up like a rag doll and blew him off the structure. Thankfully, he wasn't hurt (at least he didn't admit it). I was a nervous wreck watching the whole thing from inside. Walls are supposed to be strong and give security. But when a lone wall is competing with gale-force winds, the latter will always win.

Mother Nature is in complete control today. She is calling the shots. She is making a clear statement that we are small and powerless against her fury. It is very humbling. And frightening. And 4 letter word inducing. (Sorry, innocent children of mine.) It also doesn't help to know that the wind is blowing in the direction of our neighbors and that their home is in the firing zone.

Damage done? Our chain link fence will need fixing, our neighbors have lost a large branch off of their cherry tree, a crane will need to be brought in to replace the walls to their rightful place, and my nerves are fried for the day. Everyone is safe and unharmed and our neighbors assure us they don't hate us.

{Yet.}

Judging This Book by its Cover

I'll admit that when my mom handed me this book that she had read for her book club and suggested that I read it, I was a little skeptical.


The title sounded really cliche' to me.  It didn't sound like anything special or new.  

However, the cover of the book (which, of course, I always judge) spoke to the romantic side of me that has always dreamt of having an English garden.  A garden with an abundance of perennials, mossy stone lined paths, trimmed hedges, and a gate.  Oh, and a cute little cottage to go right along with it.

Being sold on the cover, I read this book and loved it.  Kate Morton did a fine job of mixing and twisting a story line full of intrigue, sorrow, love, mystery, injustice, determination and will.  It's a great book and one that will keep you guessing the whole way through.

Any suggestions for my next read? 

House Project 2010: Week 4

Because of the drizzles of rain, a concrete guy's weekend injury, and construction's name of the game, not a whole lot was done this past week.

***

The kids did enjoy seeing our back stoop ripped off by some big machine with a claw (a Kubota?).  They especially loved that the wicked claw was within inches of their sweet little faces in the window.  One wrong move and they would have been part of the destruction.

Years of dusty settlement was loosened and a downpour of hidden muck and grime fell on the workers.  The kids thought the dangling light was awesome.

Once the back stoop was off, our original house material - adobe brick - was exposed.  I don't know why, but it gave me such a thrill.  Our house has been covered in stucco so I've never seen the true character underneath.  Jeff took his car keys and scraped it along one of the bricks and it felt as strong as a regular brick - no crumbling or indention made by his key.

{Whew!}

This shows what the original back door would have looked like before the stoop was put on.  It was covered in (pink?} plaster.  This also shows how thick our walls are.  Can't buy insulation like that nowadays!

Shaw's permanent seat.

Dirt leveled out, foundation gaps filled in.

Basement plumbing roughed in, window wells secured, garden left in a complete mess.

{We'll deal with that next year.}

Basement and garage cement poured.

Next week?  Framing!

The pioneers only left a few, broken pieces of china.  The kids found these while climbing the mountains of dirt during the excavation.

By contrast, the construction workers leave these treasures on a daily basis.

Do you think, if I left them a garbage can, they would use it?

Perhaps I Should Clarify

If you read about my Grand Idea and came away feeling a bit uncomfortable and questioning whether or not I have experienced a new level of rational absurdity, you're probably not alone. I think a lot of you scratched your heads, raised your eyebrows and thought - silently or out loud - "she's weird".

Jeff warned me that he thought this might happen.

My last post was completely, 100%, wholly, and unequivocally a joke.

I tried to make it sound legit - albeit a little zany - and then subtly leave a clue at the end that I was not being a bit serious.  While I completely, 100%, wholly, and unequivocally do believe that every  married couple - young or old - could benefit from marriage counseling, I certainly would never offer that suggestion to any newlyweds.  And certainly never give it as a wedding gift.

{Can you imagine?}  

I hope this clarification has offered you a bit of relief.  Whew!  We can still be friends. :)

I guess at this point I should give you my actual solution to the June wedding gift marathon.

Don't know why I waited almost 17 years to buy a cake pedestal for myself, but I've loved mine and hope they love theirs too.  It may not bring them a life altering awakening like my previous grand idea, but it will look pretty on their kitchen counter and bring a touch of sweetness to their marriage.

I delivered two today and have another wrapped and ready to go.  My nephew's fiance' has a bridal shower in Idaho this weekend and we're heading up north for the exciting occasion.

Have a great weekend!

*Post note:  Rita, you're so cute.  Me sew an apron?  Oh, you jest!  

A Grand Idea

We've started practicing our new house payment.

Although we don't have to actually make any house payments of any kind during the construction period (4 - 6 months), we're taking that money out of each paycheck, sticking it in the bank, and easing ourselves into the reality of having a real, grown up mortgage payment.  

{A close friend assured me that our previous monthly house payment was not real.  It was just a pretend payment - much less than what most people pay in rent.  I've loved our minuscule payment but not the minuscule square footage that accompanied it.}

As our budget has gone through a major checks and balances overhaul, Jeff has line item vetoed several categories and all pork barrel fat has been removed from it's cushy ledger. No more casual shopping at Target.  No more $100 milk runs to Costy-co.  No more slush funds for trinkets that dazzle my visual senses but that have no purpose otherwise.  The Gregson financial belt has been tightened; I'm on a spending diet.

As wedding season is upon us, the marital announcements are starting to pile up on the kitchen counter.  I've been thinking long and hard about wedding gifts that would serve these young couples well.  Serve them well, but without busting our fragile budget wide open and forcing Top Ramen Stroganoff or Spam Souffle to become regular features on the Gregson family menu.

{Such delicacies are not found on Food Network.com.  Trust me.  I checked.}

 

Wedding gifts.  As I looked at the pretty invitations covered with pictures of happy couples, a budget conscious vision flashed before me: without a doubt and with very little exception, what is one thing that most couples could use during their first year or two of marriage? The one thing that would make married life a little bit easier and benefit them on a daily basis. A gift that would keep on giving year after year?

Marriage Counseling.

I just happen to have a husband.  He is an LPC - Licensed Professional Counselor.  He does plenty of marriage counseling.  He has a private practice here in town.  He's good at what he does.  

Can you see where I'm going with this?

I get some pretty paper.  I'll go all out and get some wedding-ish embellishments.  I make a gift certificate for a free session of marriage counseling.  There wouldn't have to be an expiration date on it because we all hit that infamous the honeymoon is over point at different times. Some might want to redeem theirs as soon as the wedding gifts have all been exchanged. Some may not need to until the first Christmas rolls around and trouble starts a-brewin' over where to spend the holidays and how to divide up the traditions. Some lucky love struck saps may not even need it until the first child is born and the mother-in-laws start to give parenting advice. Every couple is different. But, mark my word, the happily ever after bubble does gradually deflate and every bride and every groom soon realizes that marriage is a lot of work - work worth doing and doing right - but work, nonetheless.

A marriage counseling wedding certificate.  Is that not a gift idea swimming in brilliance (and most assuredly dunked in tongue-in-cheek)?

Yea or nay, folks?

A Case of the Heebie Jeebies

Brittan is a human defibrillator.

Late at night, when all is calm and still, he'll jump start your heart with a violent jolt of skin prickling peculiarity.

Perhaps you remember this?

He did it again last night.  Different location, same effect.

He fell asleep on the couch but woke himself up later and headed for his bedroom.  I bid him goodnight, he mumbled something about me being the most spectacular mom in the whole wide world (not really), and groggily climbed the staircase to his room.  45 minutes later I did the nightly check the children routine.

Check the children.  (to be read in a raspy, thin voice)

I suppose the laundry basket in the bathroom would be a soft place to land.

What does this experience teach me?  

First, it teaches me that Brittan has to have a personal escort upstairs each and every night. Tucked in tightly and secured in his own bed.  

Second, I have a lot of laundry to do today.

Looking for a Diagnosis

May 27, 2010

Dear Doctors, Nurses and General Smarty Pants of Cedar Sinai, John Hopkins, and Mayo Clinic,

 

I am writing to you because my kids are medical anomalies.

I'm sure their condition is rare and unheard of in most medical communities. I'm not sure how 3 of my kids ended up with this disorder, but there is no dispute that they all are carriers and show varying degrees of being affected. The earliest signs and symptoms started at around age 5 but have progressively become worse over the years.  It's become so bad that I decided to seek professional help.  That is the purpose of this letter.

Brittan has it the worst - we see manifestations of it on a daily basis -  followed closely by Kennedy. Taiden has the most mild case - it comes and goes at times. I'm truly hoping that Shaw has not been infected with it but only time will tell.

I've researched their symptoms on line, but have come up empty handed.  To put it simply and in layman's terms:  there is a chronic connection between my children's bladders and their assignments to do dinner clean up.  Doctors (and nurses and general smarty pants), I'm at a loss of what it is.  Our daily routine is generally the same.  They play outside, or practice the piano, or do homework without bladder issues. Then they're called in for dinner.  Again, no bladder issues.  They eat, chat, laugh, blow bubbles in their milk without a single indicator that there is trouble.  But the minute that the chart is checked and the clean up assigments are made, an overwhelming urgency comes upon each of them.  My poor children.  I'm sure it must be terribly inconvenient to have such pressure and discomfort upon their wee little bladders at a time when they so desperately want to be sweet and obedient children.  Children longing to fulfill their duties and pull their weight around here.   

The connection is uncanny - this peculiar disorder sweeps down on them in an instant and hits them full force.  I would say that the lag time between the job assignments made and the persistent bladder pang is less than 30 seconds. Sometimes, poor innocent souls, there is a deeper and more intense throbbing that coils them into cold sweats and an acute BM dance.  

I'm sure you can understand my concern.  Any direction for a cure or remedy would be greatly appreciated.  Because, as a family, we have been living with this for years, I feel I may have developed a callused attitude towards the whole issue.  It is extremely difficult for me to show sympathy to my children during these times.  In fact, do I dare say that sympathy of any kind is non existent during these moments of squirming and hopping around?  I direct them to do their jobs and then escape to the WC, bathroom, lavatory, or comfort station. Their agonies intensify and they say they may have accidents, explosions, or other eruptions.  I tell them that is fine - they can clean that up as well - just as soon as their job is done.  To date, there have been 0 incidents.

{You may want to investigate mean mom syndrome as well.} 

Any help or guidance would be wonderful.

Sincerely,

Kristen

P.S.  I know this is genetically linked. I, myself, had this exact same condition in my youth.  I got better with time. I'm just hoping that you can give me a remedy that can expedite the road to recovery.

House Project 2010: Week 3

The early pioneers used rocks for their foundations.  Jeff assures me that if our home has remained sturdy for 150+ years then it should be good for another 150 years.

But when I see the modern foundations of today, I start to have doubts.

The wise man built his house upon the rocks, but the wiser man built his house upon concrete slabs.

Basically, when the big one hits, we'll all be running for the new addition.

Footings.

This back door/stoop will soon be torn out to make way for our extended kitchen and enclosed breezeway.

They had the foundation framed, poured, and finished within 24 hours.

First glimpse of our future carriage house.

{And by carriage I mean car.}

Finale

It is with heavy hearts and minds full of questions that we ready ourselves for the final episode of LOST tonight.

Jeff is dressed for the occasion.

And to think his obsession with the island all started with a silly New Year's Resolution. 

No more Sawyer, Hurley, Jack, Kate, Ben, Sayid or John?  Jeff may cry himself to sleep in his bunker tonight.

{By the way, Kennedy and I are holding out hope that Mr. Eko returns during this final episode. Hey, a lot could happen in 2 hours.}