Nothing promotes peace, love and harmony in a marriage more than a remodel, does it? Multiple discussions about style, design and what to include in the remodel, not to mention budget, are all part of the fun. Countless shopping trips to look at fixtures, furniture and hardware take the place of “date night”.
The rule for remodels is pretty much the same as for vacations: if you have time to do it, you don’t have the money. If you have money to spend, you don’t have time. It’s a vicious cycle, and it’s definitely proven true for us.
We love our home and knew from the get-go that remodeling would be part of the package. A fabulous contemporary built in the ‘70s, it suffered from the misguided decorating schemes of multiple owners who apparently tried to morph it into something it wasn’t. Sort of like a mullet, our house was party/contemporary on the outside, business/traditional on the inside.
Over the years Hubby and I have lived through several remodels and are still speaking to each other. Each remodel starts out the same. We talk for months about what we’d like to do. We pore over designs and Hubby sketches ideas. We spend hours shopping. The walls become a mosaic of paint colors as we paint a section, let it dry, stand and look at it with our heads cocked to one side as though the color will look better, giving each a ‘thumbs up’ or ‘thumbs down’.
We were just ready to embark on what would be the final remodel when the lay-offs hit, which of course put a halt to those plans. (See the remodel rule mentioned earlier) Now that money is better, it’s time for the final frontier: the master bedroom. We also received a call from 1976 asking if they could have their décor back. We are more than happy to accommodate. The wall of smoky disco mirrors cannot come down fast enough.
As remodels go, this one is a piece of cake. The wall of mirrors will be history; new sheet rock, texture the wall, paint and new carpet. A few days, tops. And we can stay in the house. Sure beats the 6 months we spent living with mom during the last remodel. Timing should be perfect since our work schedules seem to be manageable.
And so it began this week. Workmen arrived just as I received a text from Hubby that said, “I’ve just entered Hell. Don’t expect to see much of me this week.” Glad he has lots of work, but this does not bode well. OK, I thought, I can do this. Our four-legged daughter can spend the days with grandma and my work is flexible.
Apparently Hubby and I totally forgot what it’s like to live through even the simplest remodel. As we came home the first night, we opened the door to the overwhelming smell of paint, dust and sealant. The dog paced the house, flustered because her bed was now in the guest room. The drawers from our chest lay on the living room floor, full of our underwear and socks. I love knowing that the workmen have seen my underwear. Despite the fact that we had just cleaned the house, dust seemed to have settled everywhere.
We retreated to the other side of the house to escape the noxious odor and get some sleep, stepping around all of the bedroom ‘stuff’ that was stored in the hall. That’s when we remembered what it’s like to go from a king bed to a queen. A fight for the covers ensued, as well as a land-grab battle with each seeking claim to a portion of the bed. I could feel myself becoming tense; why is this so difficult? Then it happened. His foot on mine, clearly intending to steal more of the bed than was fair. Trying to keep myself under control, with teeth clenched I said sternly, “Hubby, Move…That…Foot”.
Too bad HGTV or Extreme Home Makeover or some other reality show wasn’t here for this. Based on our dialogue that evening I’m sure we would have been chosen for “Real Couples of Home Remodels”. Lots of “remodel mama drama”.
By morning the drama had subsided. I won the Battle for the Covers; Hubby won the Land Grab. Not sure what happened to the pillows; I think they threw themselves off the bed to avoid the conflict. The dog was thankful that her bed was not in play.
Only a few days, we keep telling ourselves, and we’ll be done remodeling for good. Maybe.
© Tami Cannizzaro 2012 All Rights Reserved
Like Tami, I was terminated once (By my best friend, BTW – he is now on the board of the agency I lead, so I got him back – ha!), but you don’t have to be unemployed to learn something from this book. 
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