My kitchen is a dump. A stained-linoleum, holes in the walls, unpatched drywall, no cabinets, exposed electrical, dangling insulation, 1980’s particle board nightmare variety dump. And oh yeah, we made it that way. We are in the middle of a massive renovation that includes tearing down walls, rerouting pipes, electrical, and sewer lines, and gutting the entire outdated kitchen in favor of a culinary foodie’s delight.
I daydream about nestling my stainless steel KitchenAid Pro into its position of honor on the buttery granite countertop with rich mocha accents that is currently being cut and ground to perfection. My little brown teapot will look like a luxury through the shining glass doors of the chocolate cherry cabinets that are en route from the manufacturer. My slate tiles lay in waiting under a tarp while we prepare for sub flooring. I have swatches of colors to coat the walls that were once wrapped in Formica panels and are now covered in yellowed remnants of liquid nails and collateral damage in the form of ragged holes.
And who’s our contractor of choice? Who will lead us on this monumental adventure? I scoff in your general direction if you’re implying we need help! Hardcore Do-It-Yourselfers, we are! Never mind the fact that I’m 7 months pregnant, a full-time student, and part-time lab rat; that my husband has a more than full-time job; that the nursery is still an office, or that we have a four year old. We have 12 whole weeks to finish this fiasco. Twelve weeks to tile 400 square feet, hang more than 20 cabinets, install granite, under-cabinet lighting, a sink, disposal, stove, hood, and dishwasher, paint the walls, and reroute lighting.
That whimpering you hear? It’s just the dog. Move along, now. On your way out, would you mind hitting the lights? I can’t stand to look at this mess.
Sara Spock is a mom, wife, anthropology student, lab assistant, English tutor, and freelance writer. Sara can be found hiding from her remodeling projects at the Sex Lab. No, that’s not what we’re calling it these days.