Skip to main content

The Bathroom Remodel

The last two weeks have been filled with weekend warrior type activity. We are remodeling our half bath. It all started with painting. I wanted to change the color to a bright yellow instead of the aged rose I had first painted it.

Things happen when I get started on a project. The "things" that happen are, I often get carried away. I start thinking bigger and better and, and, and...I know this about myself. I just get so damned excited that my brain starts working a mile a minute and it wants to go. I get lofty ideas that in the end usually end up being amazing (well, if they didn't, this wouldn't keep happening. now, would it?) but mid-point I question myself. It often takes until the mid-point for this to happen.

For the husband, he questions me almost immediately, mostly because he knows he will have to help me. He wants to catch my balloon head with its lofty ideas by the string before I float off too far and suddenly my idea is the size of the Good Year Blimp. Only, it won't say "Daniel, You're a Pimp". It will say "Daniel, You Have A Lot of Work to Do"

So, as I taped the baseboards and the tile edges of the shower, I began to stare at the old linoleum on the floor. The rest of the house has been tiled. The only two rooms that remind me of the past are the bathrooms with their dated linoleum pattern. I continued to tape. The linoleum continued to mock me. The wheels began:

We could pull up the linoleum. 
No. That's too much work. 
Wait, Yasmin. Remember you read about DIY fixers for linoleum floors?
Oh, yeah. I did!
We could paint the floor a nice solid color. 
You could do it like the example and make stripes!

This is a really small bathroom though. Do you really want to make stripes? Daniel will like the stripes, but will you?
No, no. Solid is much better. Go solid. Don't show him the stripes.
But with the humidity the paint will get weird right away. 
We should pull up the linoleum. 
You already said that was too much work. Don't be crazy. 
Yeah. Don't be crazy. 
The concrete floor! Remember the DIY concrete floor you saw? 
Oh, yeah! I liked that!


As he began to paint the walls, my fingers worked a mile on my tablet trying to find the article I'd seen. When I found it, I showed it to him. 

"You want to concrete the floor?" he asked. 
"Yeah! Let's just redo the whole bathroom. Except the tile. I don't think I can handle tile."
"Concrete? What about the paint? You said we could paint the floor. I like the paint idea."
"Yeah, but with the shower and humidity it's gonna get gross right away. Don't you think?"
"I don't think so--"
"It will. You start painting, and I'll run to Home Depot. It will look great!"
"Right now?" 
"Yeah! It will be great! You'll have a whole new bathroom!"

I ran out of the house, into the car, and straight to Home Depot before he could stop me. Driving there I thought:

Are you sure you can do the floor?
Yeah! I can totally do it. The article made it look super easy! 
Okay, but it better look cool. 
It will. It will. Stop worrying. 

Two weeks later, three layers of feather light concrete, sanding, blue stain, and floor sealant, we have a beautiful concrete floor. What have I learned? (well, that I have awesome ideas of course) That my ideas are lofty, but work out. Originally, I thought we could get it done in one weekend though. This is the third weekend, and I just got done putting primer on the vanity. I'm waiting for it to dry. He is very happy with his bathroom. I am very happy with the bathroom. But, I wonder if he is asking himself if he should have reached for that string sooner.  


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

¿Y la Prieta?

My grandma, Ita, called me Prieta. She called me this because my skin is toasted brown. When I was born my mom says I was light skinned, but she knew “que iba ser morena” because the inside of my little baby thighs were already darker than the rest of me. In the sun, I turn a darker brown. I get even more Prieta. It was a term of endearment. My sister, who has a light complexion, was called guera or guerinchi. When I tell people who don’t speak Spanish what Prieta means, dark or the dark one, their eyes open wide and a small gasp escapes. I see the offense they feel for me sprinkled on their faces like the freckles I will never have. When I try to explain, the offense still shadows their eyes. That is the problem with Spanish. Wait, maybe, that is their problem with Spanish. Even when I explain, they are suspicious. Their faces ask, “Is this true?” as if I am setting them up for a joke. But how can I explain the cultural and literal meaning of a word at the same time?

Birthday Blog: 32 Things I've Learned So Far

1. Priorities change as you get older. 2. Family is important and although I tell myself not to take them for granted I sometimes still do, but what's important is I try. 3. Make plans, lots of plans all the time to give yourself something to laugh about later. 4. One good drink is better than ten bad ones. 5. Beer can be good. Bud Light is not one of those beers. Ever. 6.  BFF's are the ones that change/grow with you. Not every person who was a BFF will stay one. That's okay too; you were in each others lives when you needed to be. 7. Smart beats hot. Every time. 8. Being around negative people is like licking a sick person's hand. It's contagious. Stay away. 9. Patience. Patience. Patience. (I'm still learning that one). 10. Life can continue without that MarcKheil'sChanelSevenChantelleDior thing. It can. Really. 11. If you can't have a conversation. Take the hint. 12. It's okay to cry. A lot. 13. Music. Music that you love that you fee

Los Dichos

No hay mal que por bien no venga. Tanto quiere el diablo a su hijo que hasta un ojo le quiere sacar. Mejor sola que mal acompa ñ ada. Tanto pedo para cagar aguado. Lo barato sale caro. Más seguro más amarrado. Para buen entendido muy pocas palabras. Para cada roto un descocido. Hijo pepe mariquita! Para pendeja no se estudia. Limosnero con garrote. Soy como Orozco, cuando como no conozco. La zorra nunca ve su cola ni el zorrillo su fundillo. El muerto y el arrimado al los tres días huelen. Amores de lejos, amores de pendejos. Estaba haciendo chili con la cola. Me  da diarrea con gusanos. Enfermo que come y mea, y el diablo que se le crea. La esperanza es la última que muere. El flojo trabaja doble. De noche todos los gatos son pardos. Una cosa es Juan Domínguez y otra cosa es no la chingues. Es de Don Cuco, entra la bola no se supo. Primero me besa un ciego. Dime con quién andas y te diré quien eres. No porque te levantas más temprano