Labor pains

As we move into our tenth month of remodeling, I have lost all trace of the cheery, chipper attitude that was a hallmark of my early postings. Remember when I got all thrilled because the guys were framing and I could see the outlines of the new structures? Trust me when I say that re-reading those posts is like reading letters I wrote in college: I was a completely different person.

After nine months of this, I'm fed up with subcontractors who assume that I am always here and ready, willing and able to make decisions at any hour of the day or night. I'm tired of looking at things that are almost finished, but won't be done for a couple of months (note to self: next time, try harder, much harder, to like tile that is in stock somewhere in the known universe).

And I've made so many decisions that right now, I don't even really care about any of the remaining ones.

I have nothing left to give to this kitchen. It's on its own.

My neighbor Kathy has been there, done that, on a much larger scale. She and her husband remodeled their entire house, which entailed moving out for months with their two kids (and moving back with three—they had a baby during their extended remodel). When I indulged in a little venting this afternoon, she was the very soul of empathy.

"It's just like labor—you're at that point where you don't care how, you just need it to be DONE," she said wisely. "It's really too bad there's not a c-section option for kitchens."

To which I say: Amen, sister! Bring on the epidural, or better yet, the "Twilight Sleep" they gave my mom in the 1960s.

A few random updates:

Today I re-ordered the pendant lights because the first batch were too short. I managed to return the first batch to Rejuvenation, only to find out later that I should have gone through some process on their website rather than just packaging them up and shipping them back. Meanwhile, the replacements will take 5-6 weeks. There is plenty of light in the kitchen without the pendants, but it's just one more thing that isn't done—and this one is my fault to boot.

Tomorrow, I'm going to order the backsplash tile. We settled on a handmade 2" by 4" subway tile in a color that just about matches the walls. It will take around 8 weeks to arrive, and the contractors can't frame up the niche behind the range until we have the tile in hand. That means I'll be looking at a wall with a small hole in it until school starts, probably.

And finally, we're in frantic pack-up-the-living-room-and-dining-room mode because we're having those floors refinished when the kitchen floor is done--which means every stick of furniture in those rooms (including our 1939 piano) will have to find a new home.

I'm sure—I hope—that it will all be worth it.