do it ourselves, mostly done

The best part of nine 12-hour days spent doing hard physical labor? Losing 8 pounds. Okay, that’s really just a bonus. The best part is getting it done, mostly, and seeing the fabulous results of focused hard work.

The worst part of 12 hour days spent doing physical labor when one usually rides a desk 8 hours a day? Just about every muscle in my body aches like hell.

Including my fingers, which still hurt from manhandling the wires to hook up new recessed lights while SuperHubby, with help from the kids, spent the better part of two days on his knees putting in the new oak laminate flooring.

Friday the 9th we started yanking down sheet rock so we could reinsulated the outside walls of the house, which had been colder than usual this past winter. When we finally got the drywall off we found the old insulation was mostly falling down and when I reached in to grab a piece to stuff into a trash bag, the paper flashing literally disintegrated into dust. It smelled musty and dusty and while this was a huge pain in the ass to do, I feel so much better now about the new stuff we used to re-insulate, Roxul, an insulation made from rock.

After we got that miserable task dealt with, it was time to put up new sheet rock and spackle. This part sucks hugely and I went waaaaay over board with the joint compound. I was led astray by the Internet. There is misinformation out there, who would have known? Several credible reference sites said the first coat of joint compound should be put on somewhat thick and I BELIEVED THEM. Those Bastards.

That decision cost us a full day of sanding to smooth off the majority of compound that I had insisted on, despite my husband maintaining the less is more theory, and was totally unnecessary. I insisted the experts said so and it must be true. And then a neighbor, who does contracting, came over and told me I used too much compound and it had to go. My husband will be reminding me of my stupidity in this area for years and well, it was the internet’s fault, I SWEAR!

Do you have any idea how much dust is generated and spreads around the house, despite a double plastic curtain barrier? Mountains, I’m telling you. I’ll be cleaning it up for a year. I’m surprised my air conditioners are still functional. It was a dicey for a day with the main unit. It’s 2:15 am. I’m buck naked, just about to step into a desperately needed shower to wash off the dust coating from the day of sanding off the nasty compound. My husband yells from the living room that there’s water coming from the wall AC unit and come help him. Still buck naked, I climb onto a chair and find the filter is beyond clogged and the unit is overloaded and frozen and water is dripping on my new desk. Go figure. We didn’t think about cleaning out this one. 45 minutes later the dust is gone (from the AC unit), the excess water is being absorbed by a small towel and I’m still naked & dusty. I finally crashed after a shower @3:30 am. Only to get up at 8 the next morning to start painting.

It is possible to prime and paint three rooms in two days. I know this as truth, especially if two extremely tired people decide to paint until 2 am. Because we are insane.

We let the kids pick their colors and do most of the painting of their rooms themselves. This way they took more ownership of the outcome and when they’re hanging out enjoying the new digs, they’ll take pride in what they see, flaws & all. And there was no way SuperHubby and I were painting all three rooms by ourselves. We picked out bright happy colors that remind us of the Caribbean and they make the rooms glow. I think Behr paints need to revisit some of the names they give their paints. I chose Fresh Peaches, but I'm telling you it looks more like Papaya on the walls, which is just fine. Sweet Rhapsody would be better named Calypso Surf. Tropical Waters is just fine as it is.

I’m a messy painter and no matter the number of showers I’ve taken and scrubbing I’ve done since we painted the rooms, I keep finding spots of paint on my fingers, my toes, in my hair and on my glasses. At least the color palette matches. During the compounding and sanding and priming and painting stages, I must have climbed up and down the damn ladder a gazillion times and the screaming of my glutes just reinforces the abuse they have been subject to during this job.

Somewhere in this chaos, the television stopped working. That hour, between finishing work for the night, cleaning up and crashing into bed, was necessary downtime for just staring mindlessly at some show or catching up on how the Mets game went. Why does this kind of crap have to happen when the house is basically a construction zone and the only normal thing working is the TV? Really, why? I mean I’m perfectly capable of dealing with 1/3 of my house in various stages of renovation, with supplies and tools taking over every available space, with a little help from my friend xanax, but the little inconvenience of the TV flaking out just about sent me over the edge. In between finishing the painting and putting in floor and lights, several frustrating phone calls to Samsung and Cablevision determined that the problem was the HDMI port on my cable box. It's probably the dusts fault.

The only time we left the house it seemed was for food and another trip to Home Depot. I swear every time I opened my wallet I could hear my credit card whimper and bleed a little orange. I have to admit, there were moments, just a few, when the day was long and the task seemed overwhelming, that I just wanted to put my head down and cry, to give up, but then I'd remember that I am no pansy-ass, and I'd suck back those feelings of doom and finish what I was working on.

A savvy blogger would have taken pictures of the before and after for posting and showing off said doityourselfittude but this particular blogger was so obsessed with the do, Do, DO! of it all that taking a few minutes for photo’s NEVER crossed my mind. So you’ll have to take my word for it that the bedrooms look much better now. Except for that damn dust. And the fact that 90% of the tools we own are strewn across the living room and kitchen. And down the hall. And in the bedrooms. And on the deck.

You get the idea.

There are still a few details to close up, like the trim around floor & windows, a last electician visit, hanging a door and retrofitting Ace's bed into a loft bed for space issues. But the majority of house disrupting work is complete, satisfactorily so, and that's a powerful feeling.

This whole thing was a full on family project. Except for shuttling the kids to my in-laws while SuperHubby and I handled the drywall removal and insulation overhaul, the kids were part of every step, learning necessary life skills and taking responsibility for their space. It was also pretty cool to work in one room with my son, and over hear snippets of SuperHubby and Giggles tackling a project in one of the other bedrooms. It felt good.

My guy and I spent 24/7 together for nine days, working side by side on this common goal. It had its moments of friction and frustration and there were a couple of blow-ups but for the most part, we did it the way we do everything else, sharing the task and working together. We’ll be married 17 years this Friday and navigating this renovation together certainly proves we’ve got a solid foundation and structural integrity.

Despite my insistence on extra joint compound.