I don’t think that’s ALL you need….

For the past year and a half, we have been remodeling our house an area at a time.  When I say we, I mean my we have been hiring my father in law, because we, my husband and I, know our limits.  I can paint, decorate and hang things really well.  I am really good at putting together furniture with directions, but I’m not about to tear apart a room and rebuilt it from the ground up…even with directions.  My husband, well, he is an excellent photographer, editor, and producer….meaning, his skills and talents do not lie in hammers and nails.

Our latest project was the downstairs, basement bathroom.  Our basement bathroom was so disgusting, we wouldn’t let guests near it.  “Yes, of course we have a bathroom you can use; it’s right upstairs.  Oh that, yes it is a bathroom, but you don’t want to go in there…trust me!”

Now here would be the place that I would insert a before picture of said bathroom to really get my point across, but I don’t have one because I didn’t take one.  I know….FAIL!  Think of that gross basement bathroom in your best buds from high school’s house; permanent gunk in the shower stall, yuck and muck in the corners, crusty hard water stains galore…. it was like that, only yuckier!

Here it all is in my backyard…already an improvement!

This is the part of the blog where I tell you what a construction genius my father in law is.  The man has tackled every remodeling project we’ve thrown at him, and, boy, did he earn his money with this one!  When he tore out the old tub and shower, he found a hodgepodge, concrete mess.  The previous handy-man (and I’m using that term loosely) just dumped piles of concrete and set the tub on it, leaving holes and an uneven mess, adding more work and time to the project to remove and fix.

 

 

With the wrongs righted, we were once again moving forward and my father in law set about installing the new shower.

Here’s what I found on the outside of the shower box.

Ummmmm, I might not be the one actually doing the work, but I think you need more than just those things.

Hhhmmm, nope, still not a complete list.

They need a list that says:  Hey you, thinking you can do this, you probably shouldn’t even think about it unless you are a highly talented, patient, and wise soul that can shoot from the hip and problem solve on the fly, because these projects are never what they seem to be!

Luckily for me, I have my father in law who can do all these things and can create this, a bathroom we can finally show and show off to people.

 

 

 

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Super Radar

My children have some type of super-duper radar.  Now, one might think this was an awesome thing to have, but not so much.  In their case, the radar only works when I enter my bedroom or bathroom to take care of some type of private business.  Every time I go in my room to say change my clothes or powder my nose, they instantly need something from me right now.  RIGHT NOW!

On any given day, my kids will be outside, playing in their rooms, downstairs watching a movie, whatever.  I’ll quietly walk to my bathroom to use the facilities.  Within seconds, I’ll hear the pounding of feet, the bathroom door with fly open and I’ll be bombarded with questions.  In fact, it has become quite comical the things they believe are of dire importance when I decide to go “do my business.”

“When is the dog going to go to the groomers?”

“Can we paint my bedroom?”

“When we go school shopping, can I get a new backpack?”

Yesterday, I went into my room to change into my swim suit for the pool.  My son, who had requested we got to the pool, flings open my door with, what he believes, is the most important question on the planet….

“Mom, do you think we need to change the water in my fish tank?”

As I jump into my closet in an attempt to cover my exposed birthday suit.  “Really!?!?!? Right now is when we need to discuss this?”

It is amazing!  No matter what bathroom I enter, I can guarantee the minute I close the door and drop my drawers, that I will undoubtedly hear a ‘MOM!!!’ from somewhere in the house.

Maybe the CIA could tap into this ability and use it in their quest for ultimate world domination!  I could get them on some sort of secret spy retainer….as long as all the really important conversations are held in the bathrooms of the world!

Why did I wait so long?

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Hi, My name is Kerry and I have never had a pedicure…until today!   I know, I know, my friends, my co workers, my neighbors (particularly the one who owns a salon) all cannot believe that I have never had a pedicure.  Well I hadn’t.  My mom was not a salon woman.  She had a cosmology license, although she never worked with it once we were born, so she always gave us our haircuts, and still did up until about a year ago.  I finally went to a salon for my own hair last year.  Yes, I said last year.  I was 35 at the time, it was time.  Plus, my mom refuses to cut my hair short, so since I wanted to try a different style, I had to step outside of the family.

Since I broke the seal on this girly, salon thing, I decided to go full speed ahead.  When my husband was looking for mother’s day gift ideas, I told him I had decided I wanted to get a pedicure.  Now, again, I’m 36 now and I’ve never had anyone touch my feet…..for a reason.  My feet are Fred Flinstone nasty.  No really, they are.  (You’ll notice that there is no before picture.  That was intentional.)  I come from ugly feet people.  Both my parents are members.  They are short and wide.  The are always cracked and dry.  Plus, I run, so my toe nails kind of, well, fall off sometimes.  I usually slap some dark color on them and I hope no one pays much attention.

When I told Peter I wanted to get a pedicure, he was thrilled.  He believes he has beautiful feet.  He makes comments on their superior qualities while he rubs lotion in them daily.  So, when he went to the salon to get the gift certificate, he went a little crazy.  He bought not only a pedicure, but a manicure, a facial and a massage.  I get to join the super girly ranks at full force!

After my last day of work for the school year, I scheduled my very first pedicure.  As I was getting started, I felt the need to explain my feet to the pedicurist, Breanna,…and apologize.  She said I was over reacting and that my feet were fine.  I think she was just being polite.  I mentioned to her that my loving husband had promised return trips in my future if she could make my stumpy clubs look human.  That put a little extra pep in her step and extra elbow grease behind her pumice actions.

Soak, scrub, rinse, scrape, scrub, rinse, pumice, scrub, rinse, soak, lotion, file, cut, trim, polish, paint and voila!  I have pretty, soft, girly feet!   Breanna was a miracle worker, truly a genius.  I was so loving every minute of the pampering and relaxing that I was sad when she said I could slip on my sandals and leave.  What???  I have to go!!!  On my way out, I asked how long between pedicures and was told most people get them redone every four to five weeks.  FOUR TO FIVE WEEKS!!!  I can’t possibly wait that long!  Momma has a new obsession!