The "before"

It is February 10 as I write this. We’re about to embark on a major kitchen remodel, and I’m going to blog about it. Not because we’re remodel experts. Not because we’re DIY-ers. Not because I’m trying to make money by using affiliate links for crap products that I don’t really want to buy or want you to buy (but if I do link it to something, it will be solely because it’s awesome and I want to share). Not because I’ve discovered some fabulous IKEA hack that will involve time and expertise I don’t have, and that will look good for five minutes until the damn thing falls apart. (I have a story about some bookshelves that will be told at some point.) 

I’m writing a blog about it because I’m sick of remodeling blogs. You know the ones—with professional photos of bathrooms that look like they should be in Architectural Digest, or at least on Houzz or Pinterest, kitchens that have never even dreamed of stinky clouds of accidentally scorched garlic or splatters of Sunday morning bacon, living rooms with dogs that magically don’t play in the mud or shed or walk in their own poo and track it in. I’m sick of remodeling blogs with people that seem to have endless days off to re-do flooring or bump out their kitchens, with matching endless funds to buy that carrera marble backsplash or the reclaimed barn wood flooring. I'm sick of blogs that never show lamp cords or the accidental dent in the fridge front that you didn't notice until it was too late to return it.

No, I’m writing a blog because we’re about to spend $XX-ty thousand on something that may or may not be more attractive than what we’ve got right now, may or may not be user-friendly, will be $X-ty thousand more than we budgeted, and will have a least a handful of major flaws that we will ultimately have to learn to live with. It will involve marital stress, dog anxiety, friction with one or more construction professionals, decision fatigue, arguments and compromise, and lots and lots and lots of dust. Dust in everything. I’m writing the blog as a release from that stress. I’m writing it partially as a cautionary tale of what can go wrong, because, believe me, if we’re involved, something always goes wrong. I’m writing it because I’m sure I’ll sort of wonder if it was a good idea in the first place. After all, our son is spending less and less time at home these days, our extended family lives far away and doesn’t visit often, and we have very few friends in this town to invite for meals or parties. Also, I just started an eating program which I hope to be a lifestyle change, which goes completely against my former identity as a foodie. As I write this, the idea of a major kitchen remodel actually seems like a stupid idea. 

But….I want a new kitchen.

That was the deal when we bought the house seven months ago—the kitchen would be the first to go. It was really the only part of the whole house that made us go “ugh.” 

Official "before" photo

No, it’s not horrible. We could have made it work. We could have painted cabinets and bought a different fridge and changed the backsplash and countertops. But that’s not us. We don’t do anything unless it’s super complicated, really expensive, and takes forever. 

We’ve been down this road before. We remodeled a kitchen in our 1901 foursquare in Illinois. Less than 200 square feet, and it took us seven months to complete, since we contracted out each bit out ourselves. We saved money, of course, but I quickly grew weary of having a fridge in the dining room and doing dishes in the bathroom sink. I even survived hosting a Thanksgiving dinner that year when the only thing in my kitchen—no drywall, no flooring, no water—was my stove. 

Guess where my fridge is right now?

The dining room.

Sigh.

And so it begins. This weekend was floor demo. Chunks of layers of ugly tile and underlayment are currently weighing down our little trailer; my husband is sneaking away from work for a few hours to take it to the landfill. His muscles are screaming from two days of scraping it all up by hand and with a hammer drill. My ears are still ringing from the noise. We probably did this all too soon because the flooring guys won’t be able to come for another couple of weeks. I still need to box up some things, and the boxes will go in the newly-minted library (remember those bookshelves I was going to tell you about?). There’s a new kitchen faucet in my living room, as well as the pendant lights we ordered. “Before” photos have been taken. 

I’m ready.