The Feathered Nest

As if this whole pregnant having a baby for the first time oh my gosh I'm freaking out please pass the croissants thing wasn't enough, the hubs and I are embarking on the largest home remodel project we've ever faced.

We bought our house - which we love and is truly the perfect home for us - in July of last year.  It's in a semi-suburban neighborhood, with good schools and easy drives into the city.  It's a great house.  And we're slowly making it our own.  It's a long process, because, you know, we're not made of money.  We've yet to furnish the formal living room.  It's gonna have to wait until we have an IKEA.  So, the only items residing in that room are two potted plants, two paintings, and a wine cabinet.  I like to think of it as a mini art gallery at the moment.  One day, while I was watering the plants, I noticed some funky looking paint on the wall.  It was bubbling - like got wet somehow.  It was by a window so I thought maybe rain?  Sprinklers?  But we never open that window.  So, hmm.  I called the hubs to investigate.  Together we poked and pulled at it and were both like, "crap."  Then, we looked up and sure enough - water stains on the ceiling.

Crap.  Again.

Above the suspect spot in the living room lies our master bathroom.  Which is probably one of our least favorite rooms.  The previous owners had done a quick DIY job in there, so it was tolerable, but dated, and on our list of projects for the future.  We went to the bathroom to investigate and sure enough, a-ha!  The floorboard was really wet.  Like rotting wet.  And the shower doors aren't exactly level.  And the caulking didn't look so great, definitely leaky.  So, that has to be it, right?  Water is clearly leaking from the shower.

Scott donned his Mr. Fixit attitude and went to work to fix the leak.  Then, while I was out of town for a week, he decided to dive into repairing the wall in our living room.  Such a nice guy to tackle painting and patching while his pregnant wife is out of town and out of the house, right?  But it didn't take long before the little patch job turned into something...bigger.  Paint and plaster was peeling off in sheets.  And it was wet.  And gross.  So, Scott did what any respectable young husband would do.  He called his Dad for advice.  And then he called someone who we could pay to fix it.

So, this really great company, All Dry, came out to the house with this fancy schmancy meter that tells you if there's water in the wall and how much.  He slapped it up on our walls, and the beeper went crazy and he shot a look that pretty much said, "you're screwed." Then he asked us if we have insurance.

YES!  Thank goodness.  Because this whole ordeal is costing a pretty penny.  Lots of pennies.  And they are very, pretty, shiny, pennies indeed.

Basically, once we started investigating the whole issue we discovered that the previous owners forgot one tiny but uber important aspect in their DIY job.  Teflon tape on plumbing.  For at least a year, the shower has been leaking back into the wall.  And everything in that bathroom has to go.  Everything.  Plus, all of the dry wall on one wall in the living room needed to be removed because it was also wet and damaged.  Water also leaked underneath the tile in the bathroom, which they cleverly laid directly over vinyl, which also needed to be removed along with the subfloor.  So, ick.  Oh!  And did I mention that there was asbestos in the dry wall which meant abatement and dudes in hazmat suits and plastic sheeting and giant, noisy "negative air" fans taking up residence in our house for several weeks.  Neighbors actually came to knock on our door to make sure we were okay. 

Yep.  We've become those people in your neighborhood.

So, now that demo is done, the real fun begins - rebuilding everything.  It starts next week.  It's all both super exciting because, hello, we get a brand new bathroom!  We get to pick tile!  And a new vanity!  Paint colors! And should we do a new fancy glass shower, or a nice soaking tub!?  And newly refinished hardwood floors! Fun!  But also, there's the, "Hey, dudes, just have to remind you that I'm 7 months totally preggo over here and your negative air fans are wicked hot and make it hard to sleep.  And all that banging makes it hard to take a nap.  And you're sort of messing with my nesting mojo.  And are you sure it's okay for me to be breathing the air in here right now?  Yeah, and there's sort of this timeline thing.  'Cuz I CANNOT have you IN MY HOUSE with a NEWBORN!  Tick tock, dudes.  I NEED my bathroom back.  I'm HAVING A BABY!"

So, the race to finish the bathroom is on.  It's a new source of anxiety for me.  My nest is being feathered, and I'm like that psycho little bird who flits about and has no control over the situation, and all it can do is dive-bomb innocent passers-by.

10 weeks, one day and counting...