tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11351801418016890952024-03-05T01:59:46.287-07:00Muffin CakeMuffin Cakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15921638826104681263noreply@blogger.comBlogger687125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1135180141801689095.post-7340162488737826402013-03-29T00:23:00.004-07:002013-03-29T00:23:56.177-07:00About Time I Got It.I had a revelation the other day. I had just sent a message to my good friend, whose weight loss journey I greatly admire. She lost over 125 pounds with Weight Watchers and is now a WW leader. So amazing. <br />
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Anyhow, the message was this: "Took the kids to Culver for a shake and got myself a scoop of vanilla custard. Before I ate it I tracked it and it's EIGHT points. It's going in the freezer for my husband."<br />
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I mean, NO WAY I'm downing 8 points worth of frozen custard, right? The scoop was tiny, too. Instead, I went home and had 2 chocolate covered pretzels (5 points for 8 of them) and 2 spoonfuls of the kids' shake. And I felt good about it. I mean, right? Go me.<br />
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And then I remembered that I'd also turned down cherry cheesecake one of my staff brought into the office AND banana chocolate chip muffins. Pretty much, this was a golden day of self restraint.<br />
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And all that is good. It is. I am losing weight and so it's good to avoid those foods.<br />
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But then I realized something. Kind of like how what you hold your tongue about and DON'T say to people is really good. Like instead of telling this one guy that I think he sucks at his job, I bite my tongue. And I can congratulate myself inwardly for not speaking. But what matters more is this: what I DO say. Instead of patting my own back over keeping silent with complaints, I should be trying to find something positive and constructive to take its place. It's not what I DON'T do that ends up making the biggest impact. It's what I DO. <br />
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And so...with food. I should be proud that I skipped cheesecake, muffins, and frozen custard all in one day. But what my body knows is not the things I didn't eat, but the things I did. <br />
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Lightbulb moment, people. And it only took me 34 years on this earth. But I swear it made a difference. Since I had this epiphany (a rather dull one at that) I've seen things with different eyes. Because my body will NEVER KNOW that I skipped the frozen custard and cheesecake and muffins. Skipping those things won't be the key to losing the rest of this baby weight. It's what I DO eat that will make the difference.<br />
Muffin Cakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15921638826104681263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1135180141801689095.post-87500455171690398332013-01-22T23:01:00.000-07:002013-01-22T23:01:38.024-07:00Let Him Be Right.The first night Luca was home from the hospital, I thought I would lose my mind. Sleep deprived. Sore. Curled into a recliner with pillows and blankets and pacifiers and a baby whose red faced shrieked to me in rage, "You are fucking this up!"<br />
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She wouldn't latch. Hadn't nursed fully as far as I knew since the one time some strange nurse turned a bright light on over my hospital bed at some unearthly hour and man-handled my breast to get her attached. Here I was at home with no nurse and no bright light and no one who knew what to do and my baby would only cry. She cried and cried and her face was red and her arms were so skinny, my little bird, and I sobbed in that uncontrollable heaving way so many sleep-deprived and hormone-flooded new moms have experienced. <br />
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Through fat tears, my husband's face grew closer. His hands lifted and repositioned our new baby. He helped me latch her and gently rubbed at her chin to get her to suck and before I knew it my baby was eating. Eating, which meant she was not crying. Eating, which meant no more shriek to remind me I was clueless and a brief respite from feeling like a caged wild mama bear whose cub is on the other side of the gate begging me for help.<br />
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That moment where my husband stepped in and took control and knew just what to do to help didn't solve all our problems. <a href="http://theazkahles.blogspot.com/2007/12/can-i-talk-about-boobs.html" target="_blank">Breastfeeding my daughter</a> was one of the hardest things I ever did. And the big lesson it taught me that night is that sometimes, in parenting, my husband really is right.<br />
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There's a trend in the world of moms, to paint the men in our lives as less than us. Less capable. Less instinctual. Less smart. Less nurturing. Less skilled. Less of a parent. <br />
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We break them down into traits and characters. We tell ourselves and others that we're right and they are wrong. We tell them. We tell them in tears and in words, in passive aggressive behavior and in vitriolic words. We overstep them. We parent them because we seem to think they need it. As though we know better. As though by the virtue of being the mother we know; by virtue of being a man they can't possibly.<br />
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We forget the power of those hopeless moments of desperation, a crying baby with fat tears and strained lungs from crying. Those moments when we're lost in our primal mama bear moments and through tears we see the same hands that helped guide our baby here, into our arms, guiding us together. Rubbing a newborn baby chin and silencing the desperation with calm. <br />
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Out of the bath, wrapped in a warm blanket with wet hair and skin the color of apricots. Sitting on the bed, smoothing lotion over legs that keep growing, over toes with chipped polish and hands that now hold a pencil and expertly write her name and all the letters of the alphabet. We have these talks a lot, a routine we started when she was old enough to understand. This is yours, this body. This sacred land of soft skin and long eyelashes and feet that dance circles across my bedspread. Who is allowed to touch you? No one but me. Me and mommy and daddy, and only if you have to. Never if I say no. Who do you talk to if someone hurts you? Mommy. Or daddy. Grandma. A teacher. A police officer or a fireman. <br />
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"I have a scratch," she says, pointing. This body. This perfect little body folded into leggings and skirts and boots. Folded right now into a towel. This perfect little body over which I am smoothing lotion, lifting her wet hair to run my hands across her shoulders and down her arms. I freeze inside, but on the outside I am the calm in the storm. <br />
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A boy in her class. Lunchtime. A hand under the table and she moved away reflexively. A scratch and my brain feels on fire. She is five. He is too, or maybe six. I know enough. I know it's normal. I know that kids do these things and curiosity is the elixir of childhood. I know, also, of mugshots and headlines. Of children who are curious and grow to be men who steal innocence. Men who hurt. Who take childhood and twist it like an ugly nightmare. And this body. The same body that once unfolded from me like a lotus flower and slept on my chest heartbeat to heartbeat. My brain is on fire and it buzzes.<br />
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It's normal. It's probably harmless.<br />
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I will move her to another school. I will never let her leave my sight.<br />
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Instead: "Tell me what happened?" <br />
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A boy who touched her at lunch, from whom she pulled away. Told him not to do that. Told the teacher. <br />
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She did everything right, and sweet relief floods me, soaking through my veins. She did it right. She remembered our talks and she did it all the way we taught her.<br />
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We talk as the minutes pile up in the corner, going over what happened. Who he is. Does she sit by him in class? No. Did he get sent to the office? Yes. Is she ok? Yes. <br />
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She did everything right. We did everything right. He's five maybe. Maybe six. It's normal and it's still not ok.<br />
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Not to mama bear.<br />
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Before I tuck her into her bed, wrap her in a Tinkerbell blanket with another pink blanket on top, I ask her if she wants to tell her daddy. She does. <br />
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She tells her daddy. A window of rage in his eyes, which he shutters quickly. His hand, again, under her chin. This time he looks in her eyes, holding her face, and he says, "You did everything right. And if that (fucking son of a bitch no-good kid) boy touches you again, you don't just tell him no."<br />
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My brain. On fire again. Is he for real?<br />
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"If he does that again, you grab the back of his head, push it down toward your leg, and land your knee square against his nose."<br />
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He's for real. <br />
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She sleeps soundly. Her dreams, no doubt, of unicorns and fairies. She is safe. She is loved. She did everything right.<br />
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Downstairs, I approach the subject. I suggest calling her teacher. Making sure the boy isn't near her ever again in his natural-born life. Maybe he can be moved to another class? Maybe he can wear a straight jacket to keep his 'normal, curious' hands to his goddamned self? Maybe he's been expelled? I plan what to say next. What to do. How to be at work all day while simultaneously serving as her personal bodyguard and never leaving her alone with another boy ever again.<br />
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"She remembered," he tells me, "so you have to let it go. She did everything right, and if he touches her again she can knee him in the nose."<br />
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But I want to keep talking. I want to be sure she knows she did it right. It's not her fault. It's probably normal and probably benign and yet she can always say no. I wonder aloud at a meeting with the teacher. I wonder aloud at what more we need to talk about, to be sure she won't suffer some body-dysmorphic asexual side effect to the perv in kindergarten's actions. I wonder aloud and he stops me.<br />
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"You have to let it go. She's fine. She did it right and she will probably never bring it up again. If she does, you talk to her. You show her the best way to knee a guy in the nose. But until then, stop. Stop talking. Because it makes you feel better and you want to keep talking, but you talk and it makes it bigger and it grows until it's a Thing instead of just something that happened at school once and then she did everything right. Don't bring it up with her again. She talked to you now. She'll talk again if she needs to. Don't beat the subject to death to ease your own mind. For her sake, let it go."<br />
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And I listen. I listen because of the times I've wanted to be the nurterer and he knew the kids needed a "That sucks, but get over it" approach. I listen for the time I tried to talk to the kids about stranger danger and safety words and he interrupted and said, "If a stranger approaches, run. Yell and run and if you have to kick and punch. But first, you run." I listen because when the mama bear is in her cage and pacing and growling and wants to pull her cubs close but she can't because they are on the other side of the gate - - - those are the times papa bear teaches them how to climb the fence.<br />
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I am a flawed mother. A flawed wife. But I love them fiercely and so does he. And I am so thankful for a husband who changed diapers and helped his wife breastfeed and smooths lotion over those same limbs that used to be exclusively ours but are now exclusively theirs. Sometimes my heart loses to his instinct, and in those times I'm so grateful for the instinct of a loving dad to guide them.Muffin Cakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15921638826104681263noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1135180141801689095.post-77368270915013329902013-01-13T23:10:00.002-07:002013-01-13T23:32:48.756-07:00Love Tanked.Perched on the edge of our big new tub, yoga pants rolled above my knees, I stretch one leg across to the far side, smoothing shaving gel over my legs. I'm careful with the razor; the two little bodies in the water have to be kept safe. I shave quickly, the swick swick swick of the blade againt my leg barely audible over splashing and giggling from my companions. I am utilitarian in my mission: make the most of these minutes while the kids are safely occupied in the tub and save a few minutes later when I take my own shower. They are anything but: merchildren of a wild sea, soap-bubble ice cream cone makers, Cinderella wiping the walls clean so she can get to the Ball and meet the Prince. <br />
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I am the laziest mom in the world. I am the most clever. I am a failure at prioritizing myself. I am Mother Earth.<br />
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Little bodies, slick and with a film of white bubbles on kneecaps and shoulder blades and under their chins. They acquiesce, standing still long enough for me to tousle their hair dry and wrap them, burrito style, in towels. I turn and they make a break for it, climbing up onto my bed and jumping, giggles and somersaults and wet towels and clean teeth and toes. <br />
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We read books. Sometimes I am patient with the inumerable questions and interruptions, small hands pointing details of the illustrations out to me. Sometimes I am bone tired, refusing any attempts at plot dissection or character analysis of Curious George. I mean, for fuck's sake---it says right there in the first two sentences of every damn tale that the damn monkey is curious. Must we revisit this each time?<br />
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Potty. Blankets. Kisses. Maybe a song (Mother Earth), maybe not (lazy). <br />
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The days are long and the nights are short. Other times, not so much. I fall asleep on the couch or I don't. I stay up too late, reading in silence because if I don't get a slice of quiet time with no one watching stupid movies (I Am Number 4????) and no one asking me for a snack or a book or a craft or to discuss some bill we need to pay or requesting some marital relations I will short circuit in a matter of days. The tell tale signs will include irrational loss of temper, profanity under my breath, and a clear realization that I'm being a huge ass + a complete lack of giving a shit about it.<br />
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Then later, from a dreamless sleep, a creak in the hallway and the light thump-thump of steps. A warm body - so warm - climbing up next to me. Without rising fully into consciousness my arm raises, scooping up the radiant warmth and swathing my baby in my own blankets. My baby. My sweetest, purest flesh of my flesh. Her: warm belly, long hair, long legs, feet intertwining instantly with my legs, morning breath all night long. Him: shaggy mop, cheeks so soft, hands finding my arm or my face or my neck, breath like honey and milk. <br />
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I may think about moving them. Kicking them out. Tough love. Independence. Space. <br />
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Fuck tough love.<br />
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Fuck independence. <br />
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And space? The warm bodies and soft skin. The tiny snores and toes tucked under my knees and wide, warm palm on my cheek. Breath in. Breath out. How can they invade my space, when they are so much a part of me.<br />
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I used to worry that I was doing it all wrong. My husband, that dear and kind man, remembers the manuscript of parenting, lackidaisically reminding me that we should kick them out of our bed. I might agree. I might invite him to be the one to crawl out of that cocoon of cuddles and walk tired, fuzzy kids back to own rooms. I might just not comment, the morning light peeking in the bathroom window and lighting their apricot cheeks in golds and roses.<br />
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Fuck doing it all wrong. The night hours - those darkest hours of the day when the stars are pulled over the earth in a silken blanket and dreams dance behind heavy lids. The night hours matter too. We all need our love tank filled. We all need closeness and space, tucked toes and a warm palm on your neck, morning and milk-honey breath. Circulating the air, sharing atoms and oxygen and breaths and blankets. The love tank is emptied by long days of work and school. Rushed dinners. Early bedtimes to quash bad moods. The love tank is filled with couch cuddle puddles and ice cream runs in our pajamas and bath time with warm water and bubbles. By nighttime cuddles in shared dream-space. I might be doing it all wrong. We all might. Fuck doing it all right.<br />
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In the morning, the bathroom tile will be cold and the coffee timer has only a 45% chance of being set. There will be breakfast to figure out. Lunch to pack with nothing appealing to include in it and the freezer packs unfrozen and still in the backpack. Clothes to select. Socks to hunt down and shoes to put on and hair to brush. Someone will be running late or too tired or hungry enough for three breakfasts when time scarcely allows for one. There will be school drop off and commuting to work and long days. There will be a day's end that comes at least an hour later than you'd planned and a rushed dinner that contains nothing organic and at least one thing microwaved. Fantasize about indulgent grocery store trips when the cart brims with leafy greens and fruits of all kinds and organic free range chicken and then the beep of the microwave will end this reverie as you remember that you're out of milk and don't have coffee creamer for tomorrow morning's caffeine rush. <br />
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There's no such thing as doing it all wrong. Doing it all right? Same thing. You just do. You dress and you bathe and you feed and you stress and you love and love and love until your brain is abuzz and your heart is hot pink infected with all that love. You pretend to be sleeping when the kids sneak into bed, surreptitiously curling a blanketed arm over them to wrap them in your love bubble. You hope for the best. You hope you're doing something right. You see in the glow of the alarm clock their long lashes and sleep-swollen lips and you remember a time when they were brand new and you spent hours just watching them sleep. You hope to god you're not doing it wrong.<br />
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There is no right. There is no wrong. There is only a love tank, ready to fill and be filled.Muffin Cakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15921638826104681263noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1135180141801689095.post-35164912425745075262012-10-09T21:51:00.000-07:002012-10-09T21:51:10.190-07:00M.I.A.I've gone missing, and a lot has happened. The biggest news is that I am starting a new job tomorrow. After 6 years of throwing my heart into the same job, a perfect storm occured and I was offered an opportunity I couldn't pass up, so I jumped. <br />
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It was both exhilerating and terrifying. I stood in my boss's office just over 3 weeks ago and bawled telling her I'd been offered a new job, and here I sit one day before starting that job both thrilled and scared like crazy. <br />
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But before starting this new phase in my life I took all my PTO pay-out money and snuck my family away for 2 days at Disneyland and California Adventure. It was so worth it.<br />
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<em>(Yes, my 5 and 3 yaer olds went on the Tower of Terror...and were champs. This was our second time. That's me on the far left in the middle row in green and black. Luca is next to me, burying her face in my arm, and Mo is next to her staring at her as she buries her face in my arm. Darrick is in the 4th seat over.)</em></div>
Muffin Cakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15921638826104681263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1135180141801689095.post-26986643543714231502012-09-03T22:25:00.002-07:002012-09-03T22:25:29.599-07:00Artistes.This morning's crafty fun time involved a roll of butcher paper and my kids' first introduction to oil pastels.<br />
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Muffin Cakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15921638826104681263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1135180141801689095.post-56329969388045628152012-08-30T10:26:00.000-07:002012-08-30T10:44:52.248-07:00I shit you not, this morning a commercial for laser hair removal made me cry. Not because I have an epic she-beard and I'm sensitive to the topic. Because of one little line in it, which I can't even remember word for word right now. But the gist was this:<br />
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<em>Moms, need some time to yourself to recharge? Get laser hair removal.</em><br />
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And I found myself thinking, "If I could afford it, I'd totally get laser hair removal. JUST so I could have an hour of quiet that was all about me."<br />
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And then I cried. <br />
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And from the backseat, <a href="http://theazkahles.blogspot.com/2012/08/my-best-girl.html" target="_blank">my carpool buddy</a> said to me, "What's wrong mama? Why are you making that sad face?" and I was surprised because, truly, I thought for sure that I was hiding the tears. Stealth, silent, ninja tears like we moms get used to shedding. Tears that release that little bit of frustration or anger or sadness or just plain emotional overwhelmedness without alerting the mini-people that mama is seriously losing her shit.<br />
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I did the only thing you can do when caught mid ninja-cry. I played dumb, "What do...um...why do you ask Luca? What face?"<br />
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And, in the rearview mirror, her eyes scrunched up empathetically, she nodded her head and tilted it to the side and said, "Oh mama, it's ok to be sad sometimes. We all get frustrated. I know you love me even when you're mad."<br />
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The ninja-cry dropped from its perch among the ceiling beams with a HEE-YAAAAAAAA! and became real tears.<br />
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Because I lost my patience.<br />
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Because I was running late, again.<br />
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Because the shoes we just bought her a month ago no longer fit.<br />
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Because I would consider a laser 3 cm from my face if it meant an hour of quiet and someone focusing only on making me happy.<br />
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"Is it because you're gonna be late for work again? It's ok, mama. Grandma can walk me to school. No one cares if you're late to Kindergarten."<br />
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Because she forgot her backpack at Grandma's yesterday and I got mad at her for forgetting.<br />
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Because I don't even want to GO to f-in' work. <br />
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Because I need a date night with my husband. Preferably one that involves sleeping in the next day.<br />
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Because I miss so much, every day.<br />
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So I made a decision right there. Late to work be damned, I was going to stop by grandma's for the orphaned backpack, park down the street, and walk my kid to school. I was going to tell her with my words ("Luca, I AM going to be late to work. But you matter more.") and my actions. I was going to hold her hand the whole way from our car to the playground, then watch her run free to give an excited hug to her best school friend. I was going to stand on the edge of the playground watching my kid be a kid and enjoying every second of it. <br />
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When the bell rang, I walked with her and two friends over to the morning line up spot. I listened to the girls giggle together and soaked it in. "I <em>love </em>Justin Bieber!" one of her friends announced. "Are you gonna make him fall in love and marry you????" the other girls asked back, in excited little-girl voices full of laughter. "YES!" proclaimed the Future Mrs. Bieber. And they giggled and held hands. <br />
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Behind me, as I stood there waiting, I heard one mom say to another, "I saw you the other day! In Scottsdale!" The second mom asked, "Do you work up there?" And the first mom replied, "Oh GOD no! I was on the way to my plastic surgeon!"<br />
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And in front of me, three girls slipped pink and purple and sparkle and pony backpacks on little shoulders, giggling together and holding hands. I watched them walk into school and I wish I could say I had some mom-moment epiphany about creating a world where by the time my kid's a mom herself there aren't moms talking about plastic surgery at kindergarten drop off.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She may not be the boss tha pays my bills, but she looks Boss in that outfit.</td></tr>
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But I didn't. Because not every I-had-a-shitty-mom-morning event wraps up neat and tidy, cue audience applause. Because I walked to the car contemplating how I can save every dime between now and whenever and find a way to be home more. Because I imagined a conversation in which I don't cower at the idea of telling my boss I need more flexibility and more time with my kids. Because I need more time with my kids, but damn if I wouldn't let some technician super-analyze my momstache if it meant an hour, just for me.Muffin Cakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15921638826104681263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1135180141801689095.post-41265069340587078972012-08-28T14:29:00.000-07:002012-08-28T14:35:27.950-07:00My Best Girl.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Mornings are different this year, with 2 kids off to 'school'. Darrick showers while I settle the just-waking kids onto the couch with a blankie and some breakfast (and usually Bubble Guppies on TV) so I can start the coffee and pack lunches. The kids get dressed (he with help, she in whatever outfit she chose herself thankyouverymuchMOM). I am still packing lunches. Rohan comes in scrounging for something more to eat because one breakfast is rarely enough for a growing 3 year old boy who's built like a kindergartener. I am still packing lunches. Darrick comes downstairs and helps the kids finish getting ready while I run up to jump in a quick shower and grab some clothes for me to wear, slapping moisturizer on my face before heading back downstairs. <br />
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Darrick gets his things ready as I stand in front of a big mirror hanging on the wall and do my makeup while keeping one eye trained on my kids' reflections in the mirror so I can prompt them periodicially. <br />
"Rohan. Your shoes? Put on shoes, buddy." (dot concealer on undereye circles)<br />
"Luca-bear, we have 5 minutes. Did you brush your hair? You don't need to whine. Your brush is right where you left it yesterday." ('...on the floor where it doesn't belong' I think to myself and line my eyes) <br />
"ROHAN. Are you listening to me? Shoes. Your SHOES. Well, did you put them in your shoe bin like you're supposed to when you get home? What do you mean you don't know? Why don't you LOOK?" (use mascara wand to point to shoe bin below front entrance table, apply mascara). <br />
"Luca, can you please get your backpack ready?" (run brush through hair)<br />
"Rohan, sweetie, I can SEE your shoes from here. Buddy. BUDDY. Look. Look right there. Right there. NO, not in the kitchen. Right THERE in the SHOE BIN." (mentally recite <a href="http://youtu.be/7bgIlHUOojs" target="_blank">Bill Cosby stand-up</a> to self as I dress)<br />
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By the time we head out the door, I consider it a good morning if the kids haven't cried about being asked to put on shoes and brush hair and if everyone remembered their bags and lunches. And if I remembered shoes because, true story, I have left the house without them more than once in the mad morning rush. <br />
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My reward for the morning rush, though, is Luca as a carpool buddy. We ride together to her grandma's house, me sipping my coffee and her working diligently in one of her 'learning books', tracing letters and numbers and counting and adding and just generally preparing to be smarter than her mama in 10 more years. Everywhere we go now, under one arm she tucks an activity book, and grasped tight in the other hand are 2 or 3 markers. Her hands are perpetually stained with marker in a variety of colors. Sometimes her face has marker on it as well. Every few minutes on the ride, she asks me how to draw a '6' or what color she should make the pig she's drawing. We talk about school and she asks me questions about things she's learning. When we get to grandma's, she jumps out of the car and gives me kisses and hugs me tight before running off to another day of adventure, and despite the whining over brushing hair or what shoes are ok for P.E. day and the frustration of rushed mornings and long days of work ahead, I feel so lucky to get that time with my best girl. <br />
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The 10 quiet minutes with Luca alone each morning are the best way to kick off my day. <br />
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<br />Muffin Cakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15921638826104681263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1135180141801689095.post-40373594088008189242012-08-23T22:12:00.000-07:002012-08-23T22:12:34.373-07:00The Answer to the Question, "How's Rohan Adjusting to Preschool?" is...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Check out the comment at the bottom. I removed the girl's name, but this would be the 4th little girl whose name I've heard mentioned in connection with Rohan. Three weeks into school and my boy is already a Casanova.</div>
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I asked him about the girl because I don't know who she is. His response? "Oh, she said I can come over to her house sometime to watch movies together." Trollop.</div>
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I'd say he's adjusting just fine, thanks for asking.</div>
<br />Muffin Cakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15921638826104681263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1135180141801689095.post-10594804638257229552012-08-20T22:27:00.002-07:002012-08-20T22:27:44.440-07:00Learning to Let Them Go.Last night before bed, Luca picked her outfit for the first day of kindergarten: a brown dress with pink polka dots and her new brown shoes. Rohan asked me to get his orange 'buttons' shirt, and I selected some new khaki shorts to go with it. I packed Luca's lunch, cutting her turkey sandwich ino a star and a letter 'L' and including a strawberry cupcake she chose at the grocery store. I scrawled 'Rohan K' on the inside of an old t-shirt and pair of shorts with a Sharpie and tied them into a bag with his name on the outside. Extra clothes for school, in case he has an accident. Luca's bag was packed with her purple pencil case and a towel for after-lunch rest time. Everything was ready to go. <br />
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We took a bath together, the three of us, washing the manes and tails of every My Little Pony in the house and also washing Luca and Rohan's new hairstyles. Hers: bangs. His: short and neat.<br />
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<br />Before bed, Luca told me she was worried about kindergarten because even though she can count, "Sometimes I skip a number." I assured her it was ok, and that lots of kids skip numbers and she was goign to school so she could learn how to remember ALL the numbers when she counts. That seemed to satisfy her, and before she rolled over to close her eyes she smiled at me and told me she was excited to start school.<br />
<br />This morning both kids were still sleeping when I got out of bed, so I went and woke them by rubbing their back and telling them it was time for school. Luca jumped out of bed, excited to put on her pretty dress and take her new backpack to class. Mo was a little slower going, telling me several times that he didn't want to go to preschool. I got them downstairs, dressed, and sitting in front of Bubble Guppies so I could finish getting everything ready to go. <br />
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The morning was punctuated with Rohan's sadface, as he told me several times he didn't want to go to preschool. I didn't know what to say to him other than to fill him with platitudes about how preschool is super fun and he's going to make a lot of new friends and learn new things. It didn't work. He was curled on the recliner in a ball telling me he didn't want to go. Even Luca chimed in, telling him how she was worried about preschool but it ended up being so fun and she made lots of friends. He still wasn't convinced entirely.<br />
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We parked down the street from the elementary school, following a crowd of other parents as they led kids large and small to the playground to line up for their first day. Each of my hands held a tiny hand of one of my children, and if you think for a second I didn't feel the power of that moment you must never have met me. <br />
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We got to school a few minutes before the first bell, found the spot where Luca's class lines up in the mornings, and waited. I could tell Luca was nervous, and Rohan could too which made him nervous which in turn made ME nervous and on the verge of tears. We stood together in a cluster eyeing the other kids and their parents. I was trying to guess which kids would be the nicest and hoping my kid would be seated next to them, and Luca was probably admiring all the Hello Kitty backpacks jealously. Her teacher made her rounds, checking to be sure all the right kids were in her line and she knew how they were all to get home every day that week and I tried to look friendly by half-smiling at the other parents while behind my sunglasses my eyes nervously scanned the group of new kids and parents. <br />
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I leaned in close to her, feeling very sentimental as every ounce of mama love burned in my throat, and whispered into her cheek, "Luca, I'm so very very proud of you and school is going to be amaz--" and she cut me off. "Mom," she said impatiently, "your breath stinks like coffee." Sentimental moment over.<br />
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I wasn't sure how Luca would do when the time came to walk into the school with her class. After two years of preschool this is sort of old hat to her, but it was a different school and this is a new teacher and new classmates and new rules and a new schedule. Leading up to the first week, she was really excited, so we went with that and played up the excitement in the hopes it would pay off the first day. And while she was a bit nervous, clinging to my hand most of the morning, when the time came to kiss her good-bye she was ready to go.<br />
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We stood there, Mo and I, watching her walk away from us and into big kid school. She turned several times and waved, blowing kisses as we enthusiastically waved and blew kisses back. I snapped pictures through tears I'd held in until that moment, and as she passed through the doors and disappeared down the hall to her first day of Kindergarten, I turned with Rohan, took 4 steps across the basketball court, and was stopped cold by a wave of heavy tears. Rohan was looking at me sadly, so I scooped him into my arms as I cried, and he burrowed his head under my chin, his right cheek flat against my collarbone and his left arm stretched wide to pull me into a hug. <br />
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That moment? I will never forget it. And when I looked down into my son's big blue eyes, he was crying too. We stood there for a moment, holding each other together, then he walked beside me to the car holding my hand the whole way there.<br />
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The ride to preschool for Rohan's first day was quiet. My right arm was stretched into the back seat, and he held my right hand in both of his for the whole drive. We got there much too fast and before I knew it I was unbuckling Rohan's carseat and pulling his backpack out to rest it on his shoulders. Thankfully, his hesitation and nerves had calmed some and he didn't try to change my mind about leaving him in preschool that day. Because, I swear, if he'd asked me at that moment to let him stay home one more day I would have burrowed him to me and whisked him home so we could snuggle on the couch together for a whole day. </div>
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There wasn't much time for long sentimental good-byes once we got to preschool. Most of the kids were there already and the class was just sitting down for circle time. One of the high schoolers that works in the class came right over and greeted Rohan, taking his hand and leading him to his space on the rug. And suddenly, I had two kids in school. Just like that. Babies, done. Kids, here. </div>
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I knew I should leave, but I couldn't. I needed one more hug and kiss from my son. Needed to sniff his skin and feel the softness of his blonde hair and remind him to be good and kind and listen well. So I waited patiently for circle time to end and the kids to go wash their hands and I grabbed him and held him close to me for a kiss. And then, I watched him walk away and join the other kids at the little circular table for snacks.</div>
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I walked out alone, sat in my car, and let the tears come. I was crying from pride that a new phase of their lives is starting, and in equal measure from sadness that the last chapter is ending. No longer can I even pretend they are my babies. They are big kids now, with classmates and teachers and lunch bags and friends. They bring home pictures and classwork with their names scrawled across the top. They ask questions such as, "Mama, how does a car turn all the wheels the same at once?" (him) and, "Are whales mammals? Because I know that dolphins are and whales feed their babies milk too." </div>
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Learning to let them go and let them grow up is hard for me. I absolutely adore the people they are becoming. I beam at the praise from their teachers. I smile when I hear about new friends and eating in a cafeteria and recess and music class and share day. My throat tightens and my heart feels like it will burst as I witness them growing minute by minute into the little adults they will someday become. </div>
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This will be a big year. I'm trusting my kids to teachers and other families and their kids. I'm letting my kids go and grow. And I cannot wait to look back at this time in our lives and remember it sweetness.</div>
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Muffin Cakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15921638826104681263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1135180141801689095.post-68749167848405896702012-07-31T15:02:00.000-07:002012-07-31T15:02:04.520-07:00Building Rememberies,.Yesterday I had to travel for work to attend a candidate forum. On a whim I decided to take Luca with me. I figured having a buddy for the 6 hours in the car (3 each way) and dinner in a small town couldn't suck. And she felt pretty damn special. So: win, win.<br />
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We left my mom's house (and an almost-napping Mo) to hit the road about 3. This particular trip took us through some reservation land and some farm land and it was one of those smack-you-in-the-eye-sockets beautiful days in Arizona. <br />
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Among the awesome topics of conversation, brought to you by the number 5 (as in years) and the letter L (as in _uca):</div>
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"Mom, how did the Earth get to be?"</div>
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"Mom, tell me everything you know about the moon?" (and then when I told her people walked on the moon: "Was that you and your friends?")</div>
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"Mom, let's think of baby names for the little brother and sister I want. Twins."</div>
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"Mom, do you know, like, <em>any</em>thing about science? Why don't you tell me ALL the things you know about science?" (pretty sure I was being judged here)</div>
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Eventually she decided to 'read' her book. I think she's decided that she is destined to be smarter than I, so she's getting a jump on the whole deal by teaching herself to read.</div>
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And then she fell asleep. And the cuteness that is little kid napping, complete with puffy lips and big eyelashes made me think maybe she's onto something with her twins idea. True story. </div>
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The event itself was boring for her and marginally interesting for me. We entertained ourselves with Wiki Sticks, which now lead the pack as far as I'm concerned in the whole 'entertain your children quietly without a mess' field. She created a fishing game with the sticks, and then we built a village together.</div>
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After the forum, we went to a diner and had dinner and a chocolate milkshake. Required fare for any 5 year old road-tripping and getting politically savvy, right?</div>
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On the drive home, she was wound up on over-tired and excessively-sugared adrenaline and wouldn't stop talking. No, seriously. For like 35 minutes straight she just jabbered on and on about what happened at story time last week and that one bracelet she got at Peter Piper 2 years ago and what an epic disappointment I am at knowing things about the moon and how her daddy like 'gangsta music' such as 'that song about sexy and I know it'.</div>
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Just before she passed out at 11:30 pm an hour away from home, the quote of the day happened.</div>
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"Mama," she said. "I got to come with you today and Rohan's already home in bed. And that's because I am 5 and he is 3. I can listen gooder and behave when you ask. And, I have a gooder remembery. I do. Have a gooder one. A remembery."</div>
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Epic. </div>
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</div>Muffin Cakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15921638826104681263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1135180141801689095.post-32786548141328920042012-07-11T23:28:00.002-07:002012-07-12T08:33:01.340-07:00Master Bathroom Renovation, the Pictures.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik4hoOT1bplgOs6P-nx3eDqTtT5DF3dMqGdje4ZyLdfgQLCAbZjkjQUIa6lfzmzyAfZT1dtro8dZzNS3cP5Pw4j03TV1cYRlz9uE5C8ViUGVEyS8zDp3YXH9-FbTVwHaM1XkCXLhnDaA4/s1600/DSC_0970.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik4hoOT1bplgOs6P-nx3eDqTtT5DF3dMqGdje4ZyLdfgQLCAbZjkjQUIa6lfzmzyAfZT1dtro8dZzNS3cP5Pw4j03TV1cYRlz9uE5C8ViUGVEyS8zDp3YXH9-FbTVwHaM1XkCXLhnDaA4/s640/DSC_0970.JPG" width="428" /></a></div>
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Our new view from the master bedroom.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOZ85STztKnV0uJVWZaIheCL9nO34G3IKjxMDMYncM6JYKB9TM9bFlp1VBggYOcF9s767VnwLF9CV_-_ecv0FzBmc1jq4YK90tZ5HvxJe5-X3mmsSWDD1OtBIQSYO8ZsnYKWy4OzOjkyU/s1600/DSC_0973edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOZ85STztKnV0uJVWZaIheCL9nO34G3IKjxMDMYncM6JYKB9TM9bFlp1VBggYOcF9s767VnwLF9CV_-_ecv0FzBmc1jq4YK90tZ5HvxJe5-X3mmsSWDD1OtBIQSYO8ZsnYKWy4OzOjkyU/s640/DSC_0973edit.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Restained vanities (<a href="http://www.minwax.com/wood-products/stains/minwax-wood-finish" target="_blank">Minwax Dark Walnut</a>), new counters (<a href="http://www.homedepot.com/webapp/wcs/stores/servlet/ProductDisplay?productId=100393852&storeId=10051&langId=-1&catalogId=10053&ci_src=14110944&ci_sku=100393852&cm_mmc=shopping%2d%5f%2dgooglebase%2d%5f%2dD29X%2d%5f%2d100393852" target="_blank">American Standard Newbern from Home Depot</a>) with new faucets (<a href="http://www.homedepot.com/Plumbing-Bathroom-Faucets-4-Centerset-Sink-Faucets/Glacier-Bay/h_d1/N-5yc1vZbrhkZn7Z1z10p7r/R-202185782/h_d2/ProductDisplay?catalogId=10053&langId=-1&storeId=10051&superSkuId=202783216" target="_blank">Glacier Bay from Home Depot</a>), new towels (Target Home Blue Crab bath sheets and Target Home Trout Stream hand towels). The mirror is the same one we had before, but we raised it up about 4 inches to acommodate the higher vanities. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCrCCg-pD0Aq3zYC6QVFA-VifANZjrwlWCOJMWhlbxG9DQfMT_RpI70dMAxKfp-o84UwKPBRHcmFA8p3YPTwQ-dRtq5tDa-1kmQD9ZKxKtZQALF9h8ztbEB8I0ilILitxySD7-JMnyxfY/s1600/DSC_0974edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCrCCg-pD0Aq3zYC6QVFA-VifANZjrwlWCOJMWhlbxG9DQfMT_RpI70dMAxKfp-o84UwKPBRHcmFA8p3YPTwQ-dRtq5tDa-1kmQD9ZKxKtZQALF9h8ztbEB8I0ilILitxySD7-JMnyxfY/s640/DSC_0974edit.jpg" width="428" /></a></div>
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The refinished light fixtures = love. In the corner here you can see our toothbrush holder, which is an old Ball jar. We have a ton of these, all from back before the 1950s. My grandparents live on a very old property in nothern LA and one year Grandpa found hundreds of old glass containers buried at the far end of their back yard. He saved them in a shed, and when he died my Grandma wanted to clean the shed so she asked us to take whatever we wanted. We have a few dozen really cool and unique old glass jars and containers, and I loved how this one fit in here.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEG-NT4BMBmSIfg5_hn80HnLDN-pfeV28omfNXtfLZeUyyfnXxbcyCDrIsjWlsU2Xf7AQ4bv3mIiMw0KSBcMCpbMxoxkx4HU4tXdbDfEfiYbzTEOaU_zn1wif2AkwmrCl8DfbZ2RxPQew/s1600/DSC_0975edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEG-NT4BMBmSIfg5_hn80HnLDN-pfeV28omfNXtfLZeUyyfnXxbcyCDrIsjWlsU2Xf7AQ4bv3mIiMw0KSBcMCpbMxoxkx4HU4tXdbDfEfiYbzTEOaU_zn1wif2AkwmrCl8DfbZ2RxPQew/s640/DSC_0975edit.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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The ceiling, door, and trim were all painted Behr Bright White in high gloss. I love bright white high gloss.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_JxrgFTdu35FgsRdKoE-xUto_PjrTXgc4meKLJN43fo2CAKE_lhwVBAPJ5A-yuauzzP2vRLu-VPMnAWUAHgdQxdjmWZmC79fMPlX5dJrAM0VeclF3mDDcotRFYMbpYrIXBKK8JPtXJgI/s1600/DSC_0989edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_JxrgFTdu35FgsRdKoE-xUto_PjrTXgc4meKLJN43fo2CAKE_lhwVBAPJ5A-yuauzzP2vRLu-VPMnAWUAHgdQxdjmWZmC79fMPlX5dJrAM0VeclF3mDDcotRFYMbpYrIXBKK8JPtXJgI/s640/DSC_0989edit.jpg" width="428" /></a></div>
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This is where the shower wall meets the door. We decided to tile all the way over to the door just in case water gets outside of the curtain. Better waterproof than sorry. You'll also notice I didn't do the best job every painting those door hinges. I like this picture because it's a good close up of the grout and the accent tile AND the paint color. The grout was my husband's choice and I threw a FIT about it because it's GRAY and I wanted WHITE. And it was the hugest pain in the entire bathroom, in part beause it was epoxy grout which is notoriously difficult to work with and in part because gray on white meant we had to be meticulous or mistakes would show. </div>
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When all was said and done, I still wished we'd bought white but I actually don't hate the gray. It brings a little more life into the shower and ties into the new faucets, light fixtures, and other accessories. The color is <a href="http://www.homedepot.com/h_d1/N-5yc1v/R-202529902/h_d2/ProductDisplay?catalogId=10053&langId=-1&keyword=epoxy+grout+delorean+gray&storeId=10051&relatedSearch=epoxy%20grout%20delorean%20gray" target="_blank">Delorean Gray</a> from Custom Building Products at Home Depot. The link looks a lot darker and bluer than it does in real life. It's a pretty true mid-gray in person. </div>
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Those accent tiles are their own story. Originally we bought the small green tiles with the idea of making a row of them and then doing some equally-spaced square tiles above, tilted on an angle so they are diamonds and not squares. We picked up about 10 of the tiles you see above, which were actually square before I 'customized' them by cutting them into subway tile shape. The tiles were on clearance, and we bought the 10 the store had expecting it to be enough and then it took several weeks to get to the place where we wanted to start the accents. Once we had the row of small green tiles in place, I nixed placing the squares on an angle. Honestly? It felt very sparse and outdated to me. I wanted something more one-of-a-kind. </div>
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I ended up sitting on it for a few more weeks as we slowly added a few rows of white at a time. When I couldn't sit on it any longer, I knew I had to make a decision. I spent several hours measuring out spacing and taping tiles to the Hardiebacker with painters tape to see if I liked the look. I hated every combination I could create with those square tiles, but I LOVED the tiles. So I decided I needed MORE and then I could do something different with them. We went to 3 Home Depots with no luck. At the last one, a really nice lady offered to ask her manager if we could buy the samples that were grouted to a sample board and hung on the wall. Assuming we could remove all the tiles on there and they would be useful, we'd have 9 more tiles. She took my number but I never thought I'd hear from her again.</div>
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Two days later, she called. She couldn't sell me the floor sample, but she had located 14 more tiles someone had returned, now on clearance for $0.74 each. Did I want them? I did, but after inspecting them a bit and discovering some had been placed and grouted, then removed from the grout and cleaned to return (and thus had some damage) we ended up with 11 of them.</div>
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I took them home and started playing around with configurations and landed on the one above. I cut each tile in half (face down is the best way, as it reduced chipping) and laid them out and it was a perfect fit in terms of the number of tiles we had exactly matching what was needed.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj21BjN_DdCacGqQw5757PRyiwQUYt-hHp7Q0lySK_wbBbp1qI6F_nmwzz9Wj3_I7tVIiZ-VEJqewnDqVjCy7QzzVnA2QTefr1IYA2MYBHrPtjFzNLxCw06X93hEzR5PuVMU9_sVIZdzOI/s1600/DSC_0992edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj21BjN_DdCacGqQw5757PRyiwQUYt-hHp7Q0lySK_wbBbp1qI6F_nmwzz9Wj3_I7tVIiZ-VEJqewnDqVjCy7QzzVnA2QTefr1IYA2MYBHrPtjFzNLxCw06X93hEzR5PuVMU9_sVIZdzOI/s640/DSC_0992edit.jpg" width="428" /></a></div>
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<img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkkgtFSzdC8KUuEW4LC9ctEWTQVCGsKYUKbxZt5hvsn9WfdL7DN7OtPGT_RWps8USdRfglSzoH4FlcDb7yKFN5CL1DT-Rt6lViT1UvyW3YdfBD4bLW1R9H3rTSQrjefsb7n0k1Fay_4v8/s640/DSC_0993edit.jpg" width="428" /></div>
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Once I had the tiles all in place, I hated the two horizontal accent lines. I sat on this for over a month not wanting to grout it into place because grout would make it feel permanent and I was sure I was going to hate it. </div>
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And then one day, I looked in the bathroom and fell in love. I love the colors. I love that it's totally 'us'. I love that there is no bathroom in the world exactly like ours. I was sold. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_QL1Pk9m0h9gu1JOek_lnVJ3NtHQWhdqV7OPCphQAB0peiy04B8Gro97wCHOmBj3I7Jsn8N-JHKUu33rpaqwl5kecAUl3FXWDyBSR8lJ60bRIJKwfUoo05PqSrtTLyrVQ0VBBMFzo5jA/s1600/DSC_0979edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_QL1Pk9m0h9gu1JOek_lnVJ3NtHQWhdqV7OPCphQAB0peiy04B8Gro97wCHOmBj3I7Jsn8N-JHKUu33rpaqwl5kecAUl3FXWDyBSR8lJ60bRIJKwfUoo05PqSrtTLyrVQ0VBBMFzo5jA/s640/DSC_0979edit.jpg" width="428" /></a></div>
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And above we have Exhibit 2 of the My Husband Is Right Sometimes Too. I came home from work one day to find this shower curtain laying across our bed, attached to that new shower curtain rod (both from Target) and I was annoyed. I had this image in my mind of a white, bright shower curtain and here was THIS thing with stripes...and a few true blue stripes at that. Our bathroom is decidedly NOT true blue. I immediately revolted, moaning about how it was sure to not match and it was too blue and why did HE get to pick it out and and and...he told me as gently as possible that he loved it and wanted me to see it in place before judging. SURE it would be a horrible fit, I smugly agreed.</div>
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And he was right. Would it have been MY first pick? No. Not even now, knowing it looks good in there. But is marriage about ME getting MY first pick all the time? No. Only MOST of the time. ;)</div>
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The shower curtain is <a href="http://www.target.com/p/target-home-aquamarine-shower-curtain-72x72/-/A-13930408" target="_blank">Target Home Aquamarine</a>, and the floor rugs are <a href="http://www.target.com/p/home-color-stay-bath-rug-trout-stream-20x34/-/A-12086929" target="_blank">Target Home in Trout Stream.</a> </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQruZaZyU5YI2SsflInOORZkon9PdmewM1OgE01L_7AEPFby_iFYgqi5R1FPbUFNsaPfo6sKyTweF95X4CutAUnupIpXMUafEuM2R4-VTuG5aJwtYLGHmHf9qRZElHbF3L7ZM81EKcOxM/s1600/DSC_0996edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQruZaZyU5YI2SsflInOORZkon9PdmewM1OgE01L_7AEPFby_iFYgqi5R1FPbUFNsaPfo6sKyTweF95X4CutAUnupIpXMUafEuM2R4-VTuG5aJwtYLGHmHf9qRZElHbF3L7ZM81EKcOxM/s640/DSC_0996edit.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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And then there is the wall color. The wall color was tricky in that we had green and blue and white and gray happening in here and figuring out the best match was tough. We had a bajillion samples and then one day the whole family went to Home Depot and looked together. My husband found a few he liked and we were comparing them to some tile samples we had from home and feeling like any of them COULD work, but none of them were super exciting. <br />
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I had grabbed a Martha Stewart Metallics collection sample or two before, loving the silver and pearl colors. Darrick wasn't too into either of those, but I found myself gravitating to that section again and suddenly grabbed a new color and added it to the mix of samples we were debating. It was an immediate winner for us both so we bought it and never looked back.<br />
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The color is Martha Stewart Metallics Tide Pool, and it's heaven on earth. The trick with this paint is that you have to follow their directions and not give up after one coat. Because after one coat, it was streaky and really green in most lights, though it photographed decidedly bright turqoise. <br />
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After a second coat, however, it looks amazing! You have to use a lot of paint (this bathroom is maybe 12'x12' and we used nearly a full gallon) and be patient and meticulous, but it's 100 billion majillion times worth the effort. As you could see above, it picks up some of those blues in the accent tiles in the shower. It also goes well with the green tiles, which have a bit of a mother-of-pearl sheen themselves in some lights. And it changes quite a bit depending on your angle and the type and brightness of light in the room, from definitively blue to aqua to teal to a sea glass color. The sheen is subtle (think a pearl finish rather than a reflective metallic) which I think is perfect on textured bathroom walls in a smallish room. All in all, I am in LOVE with this paint.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTn7Saf21JBI-rkI7g2vE3OQhRSjuE9dAT9Ob8fYCIggs_6536j59SoQQiAS3WGV1j0n_EcJ1RTg6PloNYVstgaIkZO2ufuITW6IXu-_lSvq_OvtYD8TRzVtwYVm10uzAp3vHpxQhO45Y/s1600/DSC_0997edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTn7Saf21JBI-rkI7g2vE3OQhRSjuE9dAT9Ob8fYCIggs_6536j59SoQQiAS3WGV1j0n_EcJ1RTg6PloNYVstgaIkZO2ufuITW6IXu-_lSvq_OvtYD8TRzVtwYVm10uzAp3vHpxQhO45Y/s640/DSC_0997edit.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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So there you have it. The master bathroom renovation in pictures and lots of words. I have plans to put all the details and costs together, more for my own curiosity than anything else. Ballpark, given the amount of work we did ourselves and how much we managed to reuse rather than replace, I think we spent about $1800-2000 from start to finish: ripping down to studs and subfloors and building back up again. No matter what we spent, however, the fact is simple: we LOVE this bathroom and it was a major accomplishment for us all around!</div>Muffin Cakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15921638826104681263noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1135180141801689095.post-52875006124159670502012-07-08T22:25:00.001-07:002012-07-08T22:25:04.128-07:00Master Bathroom Renovation, the Steps.We still have one small step left, but it's not an essential one so I am calling this bathroom renovation complete.<br />
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Do you have any idea how AMAZING it feels to say that????<br />
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Let me rewind. When we bought our house, the bathroom looked like this:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJMT6HnGzUFblFTiKZwf20dEDQRkH5WSHhwfbEnW0SO_bos2c39iijUxuGWI9E2P7SpyiWwlSxZ92FQcRfgqomN5lOnftO0QLty1UY2odWLN9nOaKt18yC-IaaAMuAXGhZKu0syaUCiPg/s1600/before.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="464" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJMT6HnGzUFblFTiKZwf20dEDQRkH5WSHhwfbEnW0SO_bos2c39iijUxuGWI9E2P7SpyiWwlSxZ92FQcRfgqomN5lOnftO0QLty1UY2odWLN9nOaKt18yC-IaaAMuAXGhZKu0syaUCiPg/s640/before.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I'll be honest and say I never LOVED it, but it didn't really bother me. On our list when house hunting was a big tub we could soak in, and this bathroom had it. It also had saltillo to match that in the other bathroom and downstairs. I always found it odd that the previous owners painted a dark brown set of stripes on that one wall and put in oil rubbed bronze fixtures while leaving the sink and shower faucets builder silver and the vanities honey brown. But all in all it was an en-suite master bathroom with a big tub and I didn't HATE it, so I made do. Truth be told, on the list of home updates and renovations I wanted to get done, this wasn't even ranked.</div>
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And then, on New Year's Day 2012, I gave the kids and bath and a few minutes after the tub had drained Darrick went into the garage to get something and <a href="http://theazkahles.blogspot.com/2012/01/drip-drip.html" target="_blank">saw water dripping from the garage ceiling</a>, right below the bathroom.</div>
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So began our first ever complete bathroom renovation. We've done tile and paint and replacing faucets and fixtures before, but never a complete strip down (to the studs in some places) and rebuild. </div>
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The first step turned out to be <a href="http://theazkahles.blogspot.com/2012/01/updates-in-january.html" target="_blank">removing the tile</a> because it sat in front of the tub apron so it had to come out for the tub to be removed. </div>
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Once the tile was out, we <a href="http://theazkahles.blogspot.com/2012/01/because-my-husband-is-badass.html" target="_blank">pulled off the surround walls, and then we were able to pull the tub out</a> with no effort at all. </div>
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Which is a big, fat lie. That tub was a complete pain to remove, resulting in me frantically going to get the jack for my car to try to lift one end while my husband Hulk smashed the sucker out. </div>
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And we started the process of removing the long countertop that bridged the two vanities. I loved that space below the counters when we first moved in, dreaming of uses for it. But eventually it had turned into a big gaping place for trash, empty toilet paper rolls, and dirty clothes to pile up and be ignored. So we had to remove the backspash and decide what to do with the counter and vanities. </div>
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After debating various ways to remove it in an effort not to destroy it so that hopefully it could be sold on Craigslist or donated to the ReStore, we realized we couldn't remove it without it being damaged. So it got the sledgehammer treatment just like the tub had.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGGH6XZCvuVOiBX4vHkYQ230KKblw_S3nt60KI9h3dY4VoXNzpkWXcX_T2LP_ylIlbvdzeJ01XIGVNJBtfM1HquqBNvTvWJH9Z1nbNfWotrXcI7i-uYRDrkH295VVNA4Bk-74DgmUlZr8/s1600/removed+counter" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGGH6XZCvuVOiBX4vHkYQ230KKblw_S3nt60KI9h3dY4VoXNzpkWXcX_T2LP_ylIlbvdzeJ01XIGVNJBtfM1HquqBNvTvWJH9Z1nbNfWotrXcI7i-uYRDrkH295VVNA4Bk-74DgmUlZr8/s640/removed+counter" width="640" /></a></div>
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This same weekend, we pretty much <a href="http://theazkahles.blogspot.com/2012/01/break-it-down.html" target="_blank">gutted the tub and shower area and started the work</a> of fixing the plumbing. We still naively thought we'd be able to fix that, pop in a tub, tile, paint, and be done. We're so cute when we're naive.</div>
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This is also when I decided for sure to stain the vanities darker. Our original plan was to remove the doors and drawer fronts and leave the vanities in place, but we later changed our minds and removed them to <a href="http://theazkahles.blogspot.com/2012/02/it-goes-on-and-on-and-on.html" target="_blank">build a base that would make them higher</a>.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtSznUnALlYWabQeC6peqPOWtv52y3B_hIyrFiBTobQ9ju0ZD7eRzNcRsA8Y473bw5s8YGS_RtM56ggsh646jujud8PK8TvrfOo8j5Y8e41o6UlvHOFalRisCtc2j02DAuA3SY6cMSlCw/s1600/vanity+before+stain" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtSznUnALlYWabQeC6peqPOWtv52y3B_hIyrFiBTobQ9ju0ZD7eRzNcRsA8Y473bw5s8YGS_RtM56ggsh646jujud8PK8TvrfOo8j5Y8e41o6UlvHOFalRisCtc2j02DAuA3SY6cMSlCw/s640/vanity+before+stain" width="428" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLSicVcqP5MwLeCCuZlUQIj3KNfwF3XrzYkhOn7ygWFKPRk4l1VtK-7q-K7kTttKrDAyrbMAc86WOMDtT_Iw6hyphenhyphenzMY0qB9lITQEbc9UG6fNFNq8MAbM9GW-z23BOqsRwQLay9ngjB-z8k/s1600/vanity+being+stained" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLSicVcqP5MwLeCCuZlUQIj3KNfwF3XrzYkhOn7ygWFKPRk4l1VtK-7q-K7kTttKrDAyrbMAc86WOMDtT_Iw6hyphenhyphenzMY0qB9lITQEbc9UG6fNFNq8MAbM9GW-z23BOqsRwQLay9ngjB-z8k/s640/vanity+being+stained" width="428" /></a></div>
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I also decided at this point to <a href="http://theazkahles.blogspot.com/2012/01/bathroom-lights.html" target="_blank">refinish the lights</a> and fixtures in brushed nickel, since I'm not really an oil-rubbed bronze kind of girl. I still think it's one of the best choices we made, in addition to changing out the globes to lighter ones.</div>
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This was also the timeframe when we bought our tub (Habitat for Humanity ReStore purchase, new in the box) and <a href="http://theazkahles.blogspot.com/2012/02/it-goes-on-and-on-and-on.html" target="_blank">started to prep the tub and shower area</a> by moving the showerhead up about 6 inches and putting up Hardiebacker.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLUlnZIIN9BO4QO8eK-fo6BMF2NElJ8TsBQBHhD5sRSN2z8x_QEy3KtobRlq23fxDLYa43vzpI2tu04fqY6E0Ay-sKldvY5GJr1TlF8waSe4VmRpg4uh0T18tcoQC9aAnP2ghtcYSpAlQ/s1600/shower+higher" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLUlnZIIN9BO4QO8eK-fo6BMF2NElJ8TsBQBHhD5sRSN2z8x_QEy3KtobRlq23fxDLYa43vzpI2tu04fqY6E0Ay-sKldvY5GJr1TlF8waSe4VmRpg4uh0T18tcoQC9aAnP2ghtcYSpAlQ/s640/shower+higher" width="428" /></a></div>
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Then FINALLY we had the tub in, Hardiebacker up, and we were ready to <a href="http://theazkahles.blogspot.com/2012/03/thats-amore.html" target="_blank">start tiling the shower surround</a>. This was a weeks-long process as we did it when we had a few hours here or there and it required a lot of care.</div>
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In the meantime, Darrick cut out some <a href="http://theazkahles.blogspot.com/2012/03/flooring-finally.html" target="_blank">old rotted subfloor</a>, replaced it, fixed the pipes below the floor that go to the toilet, and figured out that subflooring on a second floor bathroom means several layers.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGnocs1DdSJs-NIxtSW5rvEV1tyGYGDVkRKZkAGTql-6nJgMTbGcUVBn2IejYjk8itXzbrgYhReoj0egUYXk5Tr-Lo_dmtUDHLhjlMkO6avf7emugVmnZw0ebwjg3TFCIeIEtrT28IpgI/s1600/DSC_0205.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGnocs1DdSJs-NIxtSW5rvEV1tyGYGDVkRKZkAGTql-6nJgMTbGcUVBn2IejYjk8itXzbrgYhReoj0egUYXk5Tr-Lo_dmtUDHLhjlMkO6avf7emugVmnZw0ebwjg3TFCIeIEtrT28IpgI/s640/DSC_0205.JPG" width="428" /></a></div>
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And then, <a href="http://theazkahles.blogspot.com/2012/03/flooring-finally.html" target="_blank">we had a tile floor</a>!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih3DTs6RABzsOH8cm4VmTbvgKRDHYHKpzSK4e2gcc5Qrd-d2wj0eI24DN69lFAPEvH102Q42-Ut4eEruTy-D4JpJ3HCIP-_33lnc2rLdhEByR1sGQ8lPy83Rs0RSEXEmFy2H4LZooIiKY/s1600/tile.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih3DTs6RABzsOH8cm4VmTbvgKRDHYHKpzSK4e2gcc5Qrd-d2wj0eI24DN69lFAPEvH102Q42-Ut4eEruTy-D4JpJ3HCIP-_33lnc2rLdhEByR1sGQ8lPy83Rs0RSEXEmFy2H4LZooIiKY/s640/tile.jpg" width="428" /></a></div>
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Pretty soon, we had <a href="http://theazkahles.blogspot.com/2012/04/almost-there.html" target="_blank">shower tile</a> done and faucets put back in place, and then it was time to <a href="http://theazkahles.blogspot.com/2012/05/15-feet-from-bed.html" target="_blank">choose paint and install a new toilet</a> and pick out accessories. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNoAEnCp6G6ueNyoeEY9XP9-j5RKTm7X5sFgiO7AbTc5v-ToD1QdBENfm37WUFyzul_8cjLFde239cZJLFlRip30sY7MTc0wQ9fSCCWsaPiUtNc_teeA2PKHZfdroBaMZ2yPzl0-ntNqU/s1600/13930408.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNoAEnCp6G6ueNyoeEY9XP9-j5RKTm7X5sFgiO7AbTc5v-ToD1QdBENfm37WUFyzul_8cjLFde239cZJLFlRip30sY7MTc0wQ9fSCCWsaPiUtNc_teeA2PKHZfdroBaMZ2yPzl0-ntNqU/s640/13930408.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Finally, we <a href="http://theazkahles.blogspot.com/2012/07/little-checkmarks.html" target="_blank">installed tile base'boards'</a> and painted the ceiling, door and trim pure bright white last weekend. And this weekend? A final coat of paint, fixtures re-hung, accessories in place! Unbelievably, we're done enough to call it done!</div>
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Yes, there are more pictures. And more details, including paint color and accessory information and a cost breakdown. But for today, there's this huge rundown of all we accomplished in the past 6 months and a feeling of complete joy.</div>
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<br /></div>Muffin Cakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15921638826104681263noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1135180141801689095.post-48063205982261422122012-07-02T11:13:00.002-07:002012-07-02T13:16:35.693-07:00Little Checkmarks.We are officially at the 'Devil is in the Details' phase of this bathroom remodel. And you know how everyone has those people in their life who geek out about the minute details and then those people who love the big picture? I'm definitely more naturally a big picture girl, and then I lose steam on the details. It's not that I don't like details. In fact, I've bee known to get a bit on the obsessive side about certain details, running down a rabbit hole faster than Alice on 'shrooms. <br />
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But with this bathroom? The details are KILLING me, man. It's not the design details or even the construction details. It's the little crap on the to-do list that you just keep putting off until it can be put off no more. <br />
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We attended to some of those this weekend, with consensus between the both of us when Sunday night rolled around that you could hardly tell what we'd done. I mean, WE knew, but it was all stuff no one else was likely to ever notice. Even the BIG project we undertook looks fabulous but also blends in so seamlessly that you'd think it had always been there:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQilu_SsRhq5zIm2wFRQ3R9_xK7y6p9nWSc1JBTXneeNvetaoRxmQhmWkPfFqQuYgiQWVolqVzDc57sjWahSDVrNqncNBoOXJ8Kcr4UQf6DGfdpnDw_quJaJA3X1F_WLEWzm7kivCjlXI/s1600/DSC_0942.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQilu_SsRhq5zIm2wFRQ3R9_xK7y6p9nWSc1JBTXneeNvetaoRxmQhmWkPfFqQuYgiQWVolqVzDc57sjWahSDVrNqncNBoOXJ8Kcr4UQf6DGfdpnDw_quJaJA3X1F_WLEWzm7kivCjlXI/s640/DSC_0942.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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You see them? I call them tile baseboards, though technically that name is a misnomer since clearly they are made of tile, thus NOT boards at all. Either way, there they are and it feels like the always were. It's important to note that these pictures were taken while the grout was still wet, so it actually dried to match the grout on the floor surfaces perfectly. Which is pure kissmet, seeing as how my husband couldn't find the same exact color in regular grout, only in epoxy which he in no uncertain terms informed me he would rather staple his balls to his thigh than use for this project, so it was pure luck that he found something that ended up so damn close to perfect.</div>
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The dirty details on installing this aren't that impressive. We had a full box of floor tiles left, so we simply used the tile saw to cut them into thirds. My mother in law, the detailiest of all details people, came over to help and used the same goop behind these tiles as we used for the shower walls. She cleaned the floors really, really well and then matched the tiles up so the grout lines would perfectly mirror those on the floor. Buttered the back, stuck them in place, and used spacers under the tiles and between each one to properly place them. After the full width pieces were done, we marked all the cuts and placed those. About an hour after she finished, we went back through with the grout. She filled it in and my husband and I took turns cleaning it off the tile surfaces and cleaning the grout lines and that grout up top. Our goal was to make it as smooth as possible and to keep the heigh consistent where we could. On the walls, the top of the grout will be covered with paint. Should we decide we need to on the vanity fronts and sides we can cover the grout with matching silicon. </div>
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This area right here is between the two vanities and will have some sort of shelving filling it with a space for a laundry hamper and possibly a trash can. The sides of the vanities need to be cleaned up a bit, and the walls are all getting another coat of paint hopefully during the week.</div>
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Why did we decide to use tile instead of wood? A few reasons. One, we had the tile already. Two, it is much more waterproof (obvs.) than wood in case we ever have a leak or flood up here. And three, it is a better physical barrier against bugs. This bathroom is upstairs, so bugs have never been a problem. Other than that ASSHOLE scorpion I found in the tub once. True story: I'd been tiling the shower walls for little snippets of time for several days. I had a towel down on the floor of the tub and a stepladder in there for the high places. The day I was done, I moved the towel out and there, under the towel I'd been on barefoot for probably 10+ hours total was a dead scorpion. Meaning that jerk had been ALIVE in that tub at some point and probably been squished to death. ::shiver::</div>
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The other question might be why we decided to tile in front and on the sides of the vanities. We'd considered skipping that, but we thought it looked cleaner to do it there. Plus, when <a href="http://theazkahles.blogspot.com/2012/02/it-goes-on-and-on-and-on.html" target="_blank">we built the risers to make those vanities taller</a> they looked really nice, but after moving them in and out of place several times and doing other work in there they started to look less pretty. We were going to find wood to put up around them, but honestly I liked the idea of tile everywhere and I didn't want to deal with cutting, sanding, and staining wood. So...laziness = why we did it this way.</div>
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Here's a picture that's pretty true to life in terms of color, except that the vanities are not black which they appear to be. But this is how the color of the walls (Martha Stewart Metallics Tide Pool) and tile looks in normal daylight. I am in LOVE with the color as it perfectly brings out the greens and blues in the shower accent tiles. It actually sort of changes color depending on the light, so sometimes when I photograph it, it is super green and other times it's super blue. Either way....LOVE. I read a lot of review online about this paint, but didn't find it to be nearly as much of a pain in the butt to use as others said. Maybe I got lucky? It does need a second coat, which I hope to accomplish this week. I also LOVE the new WHITE ceiling. It was 'builder white' before and had weird blotches that were yellowed like maybe someone enjoyed sitting on the pot and smoking cigarettes or something. Super gross. So now the ceiling, window sills and door/door frame are WHITE. I also spray painted the door handle to brushed nickle.</div>
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Anyhow. More pictures to come later when I get the paint done, put up fixtures like the towel bar and toilet paper holder, and lay down some pretty accessories. </div>
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<br />Updated To-Do List:</div>
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<strike>- Call
insurance and file claim</strike></div>
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<strike>- Remove baseboards</strike><br />-
<strike>Remove toilet and cover hole</strike> <br />- <strike>Remove
tile</strike><br /><strike><span style="color: blue;">- Remove subflooring below
tile</span></strike><br /><strike><span style="color: purple;">- Remove flooring
BELOW subflooring.</span></strike><br />- <strike>Remove tub surround (also
involves removing showerhead and closing off that pipe)</strike><br /><strike>-
Pull out and discard tub (also involves removing and covering drain into
floor)</strike><br /><strike>- Have insurance assessor look at damage and
determine if it's going to be covered by insurance</strike><br />- Cut away
water-damaged drywall in garage ceiling<br />- Put in new insulation and replace
drywall. <br />- <strike>Potential repair/replacement of subflooring in
bathroom</strike><br /><strike>- Potential refinishing of
cabinets</strike><br /><strike><span style="color: blue;">- Sand, stain, buff, and
poly cabinets, doors, and drawers</span></strike><br /><strike><span style="color: purple;">- Build risers to increase height of
cabinets</span></strike><br /><span style="color: purple;">-<strike> Buy new
counter tops and faucets for cabinets</strike></span><br /><strike><span style="color: purple;">- Move sink plumbing on both sides to accomdate taller
cabinets</span><br /><span style="color: purple;">- Move, replace, or cut down
mirror to accomodate new taller cabinets</span><br /><span style="color: purple;">-
Replace layer of plywood on subfloor, sealing together with Liquid
Nails</span></strike><br /><span style="color: purple;"><strike>- Install Hardi
Backer over floor plywood with mortar and screws</strike></span><br /><span style="color: purple;"><strike>- Install new tile</strike></span><br /><span style="color: purple;"><strike>- Grout new tile</strike></span><br /><span style="color: purple;">-<strike> Fix pipes below floor level for
toilet</strike></span><br /><span style="color: purple;">- <strike>Replace toilet
flange and put in new toilet</strike></span><br /><strike>-</strike>
<strike>Removal of current counters and cabinets</strike><br /><strike>- Removal
of hardware (towel rack, light plates, etc.)</strike><br /><strike><span style="color: blue;">- Spray paint bathroom hardware to brushed
nickel</span></strike><br /><strike><span style="color: blue;">- Buy new globes to
cover bathroom lightbulbs</span></strike><br /><strike><span style="color: purple;">- Spray paint light fixtures to brushed
nickel</span></strike><br /><strike><span style="color: blue;">- Spray paint
cabinet hardward brushed nickel</span></strike><br /><span style="color: blue;">-
<strike>Clean ceiling to prepare to paint</strike></span><br />- <strike>Repaint bathroom
ceiling and</strike> <strike>walls<br /><span style="color: blue;">- Move existing drain and
pipes for bathtub to accomodate new height of
tub</span></strike><br /><strike><span style="color: blue;">-</span><span style="color: purple;">Move showerhead up 6"</span></strike><br /><strike><span style="color: blue;">- Build support box for tub to sit in</span></strike><br />-
<strike>Installation of new tub</strike> <strike>and surround</strike><br />-<span style="color: blue;"><strike> Buy and install new waterproof drywall for shower
surround</strike></span><br /><span style="color: blue;">- <strike>Tile new shower
surround</strike></span><br /><strike><span style="color: blue;">-</span><span style="color: purple;"> Tile front of tub</span></strike>- <strike>Hook up
plumbing to bath</strike> <strike>and shower</strike><br />- <strike><span style="color: blue;">Paint room</span></strike><span style="color: blue;">-
Reinstall fixtures on walls</span><br /><span style="color: blue;">-
<strike>Reinstall bathroom lights</strike></span><br /><strike>- Installation of
cabinets (either refinished old ones with risers or new ones)</strike><span style="color: blue;">- <strike>Paint and install new baseboards OR</strike> <strike>use
tile as baseboard</strike></span><br />- <strike>Installation of countertops (either
current one or new)<br />- <span style="color: blue;">Put in new
faucets</span></strike><span style="color: blue;">- <strike>Add new shower
curtain</strike> <strike>and bath mats </strike></span><span style="color: purple;"><strike>and toilet
paper roll</strike></span><br /><span style="color: purple;">- Look into storage options in
room</span></div>
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<br /></div>Muffin Cakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15921638826104681263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1135180141801689095.post-51091061865736490042012-06-27T23:02:00.001-07:002012-06-27T23:03:26.198-07:00Should Be Simple Enough.I'm thinking tonight about how hard it is for me to get past myself sometimes. How I stand in my own way. How I make one mistake and let it snowball into a day of mistakes.<br />
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If I could figure out how to get past, move on, and let go I would be set.<br />
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I'll start tomorrow.Muffin Cakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15921638826104681263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1135180141801689095.post-88489869194512980332012-06-27T12:52:00.001-07:002012-06-27T12:52:49.428-07:00700.A weird thing happened to me over the weekend. I clicked to start a new post and realized it would be post #700. And I froze.<br />
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For some reason, this particular post didn't feel right for my 700th post. It wasn't...I don't even know...deep enough? Good enough? Interesting enough?<br />
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It wasn't 'writing' so much as it was just a bunch of stream of consciousness type self-obsessed journaling.<br />
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So then I spent a few days thinking about what would be a better 700th post. What would be big and meaningful. Maybe something insightful and thought-provoking? Perhaps a good story or some beautiful pictures. I even thought hard about waiting it out until next weekend when our master bathroom should be completely done and I could REVEAL it in all its glory.<br />
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And then I realized it doesn't matter that much after all, and maybe it would be better if my 700th post just said:<br />
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Holy wow...700 posts!Muffin Cakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15921638826104681263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1135180141801689095.post-10420507585522436662012-06-22T07:53:00.001-07:002012-06-22T07:53:37.324-07:00Eek! (A Peek.)I wasn't going to share pictures until all is said and done and my last to-do list items are checked off. But I'm a fool for photos, and this morning while the light was good I snapped a few. A sneak preview of the bathroom. I think I'm in love.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNyMb4wlZy4TWPrZOtXvY9ynVXeKgHcer25aQR7CHmiW-8CU2GPiOar77xnsPTksEVEImELG0Q9Vs81Zdyn5GpNgguZXtuc0yXb-8v3fAAHtnNjpJ-AzLT-sXRQEWL5-y5oh3SrG8wmy4/s1600/DSC_0813crop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNyMb4wlZy4TWPrZOtXvY9ynVXeKgHcer25aQR7CHmiW-8CU2GPiOar77xnsPTksEVEImELG0Q9Vs81Zdyn5GpNgguZXtuc0yXb-8v3fAAHtnNjpJ-AzLT-sXRQEWL5-y5oh3SrG8wmy4/s640/DSC_0813crop.jpg" width="310" /></a></div>Muffin Cakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15921638826104681263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1135180141801689095.post-22655058886392425382012-06-21T23:06:00.000-07:002012-06-21T23:06:29.150-07:00Yellowstone (continued)All in all, we spent 4 days in Yellowstone and the surrounding area of West Yellowstone. We visited the park each day and got out of the car at every stop off, look off, and easy hike. <br />
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Yeah, no. I have no idea what the hell that face (---^) is about.<br />
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So, Yellowstone = Old Faithful, right? At least, to most people it does. Well, my Yellowstone spoiler includes this tip: Old faithful is pretty damn far down the list of awesome things to witness in Yellowstone. As evidence, we went and sat in the seats surrounding Old Faithful just in time for her to spout. And when she did spout? The kids could not be torn away from picking up tiny black stones in order to look at Old Faithful, no matter how many times their Grandma tried to convince them to look at it.<br />
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I did convince Mo to smile for me in front of Old Faithful, only you would never know it since his big ol' thunder dome of a head is covering what's left of the spout.</div>
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And then, there were more hot water pools and sulphur smells and big trees and wild animals. One of my favorite moments was Friday evening, when we were leaving the park close to sunset and had to pull over on the side of the road to let some bossy bison pass. We pulled to the right and put on our hazard lights along with 2 or 3 other cards, and I got out of the car (I was on the far side with a van between the animals and me) to take some pictures. Just as they were about to pass the van, the veered very slowly and - we can only assume - very deliberately toward the van and walked about 8-10 feet from the driver's side. By this time I was back in the car with everyone else (I had gone back in the car when the bison got about 10 yards away because I'm no fool) so we all had a good laugh at the bison getting feisty and showing us who owned the road. </div>
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Now, if you go to Yellowstone for Old Faithful and also find it fair to middlin', take yourself on the trail behind O.F. that leads you to Grand Geyser and Riverside. We never got to Riverside (it was a little too much sun and the kids were getting tired) but we did hit Grand Geyser. We weren't sure what it was or whether it was worth a wait, but coincidentally Rohan was feeling a little blah right about the time we got there, so we decided to give Grand a chance and let him rest. We happened to sit next to an older couple from Idaho who told us they are in Yellowstone sometimes every week in the early and late summer and Grand is one of their favorite spots. While we sat there, they told us all the ways to tell when Grand is ready to blow, including the easiest tip of all: wait for Geyser Watchers. I'm not even kidding....there are volunteers and park enthusiasts who pass time by staking out around the geysers and documenting their every move and change. The couple from Idaho told us, "See that old man in the red jacket? When he stands up and picks up that walkie talkie (used by the Geyser Watchers to contact each other and the park) you know the geyser is ready to blow. And they were right. And Grand was totally worth the wait to see 3 vents going at once for almost 10 straight minutes. That's not even mentioning the raven we witnessed killing a squirrel as we waited. Holy nature.</div>
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<br />Muffin Cakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15921638826104681263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1135180141801689095.post-74231309043301144092012-06-21T23:02:00.002-07:002012-06-21T23:02:34.424-07:00Bathroom Progress.We are so very close to being done with the bathroom renovation that I don't want to get into a detailed or photo heavy post. Instead, just a quick update to the to-do list. If all goes as I expect, there will be pictures of everything completed to share in the next week!
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<strike>- Call
insurance and file claim</strike></div>
<strike>- Remove baseboards</strike><br />-
<strike>Remove toilet and cover hole</strike> <br />- <strike>Remove
tile</strike><br /><strike><span style="color: blue;">- Remove subflooring below
tile</span></strike><br /><strike><span style="color: purple;">- Remove flooring
BELOW subflooring.</span></strike><br />- <strike>Remove tub surround (also
involves removing showerhead and closing off that pipe)</strike><br /><strike>-
Pull out and discard tub (also involves removing and covering drain into
floor)</strike><br /><strike>- Have insurance assessor look at damage and
determine if it's going to be covered by insurance</strike><br />- Cut away
water-damaged drywall in garage ceiling<br />- Put in new insulation and replace
drywall. <br />- <strike>Potential repair/replacement of subflooring in
bathroom</strike><br /><strike>- Potential refinishing of
cabinets</strike><br /><strike><span style="color: blue;">- Sand, stain, buff, and
poly cabinets, doors, and drawers</span></strike><br /><strike><span style="color: purple;">- Build risers to increase height of
cabinets</span></strike><br /><span style="color: purple;">-<strike> Buy new
counter tops and faucets for cabinets</strike></span><br /><strike><span style="color: purple;">- Move sink plumbing on both sides to accomdate taller
cabinets</span><br /><span style="color: purple;">- Move, replace, or cut down
mirror to accomodate new taller cabinets</span><br /><span style="color: purple;">-
Replace layer of plywood on subfloor, sealing together with Liquid
Nails</span></strike><br /><span style="color: purple;"><strike>- Install Hardi
Backer over floor plywood with mortar and screws</strike></span><br /><span style="color: purple;"><strike>- Install new tile</strike></span><br /><span style="color: purple;"><strike>- Grout new tile</strike></span><br /><span style="color: purple;">-<strike> Fix pipes below floor level for
toilet</strike></span><br /><span style="color: purple;">- <strike>Replace toilet
flange and put in new toilet</strike></span><br /><strike>-</strike>
<strike>Removal of current counters and cabinets</strike><br /><strike>- Removal
of hardware (towel rack, light plates, etc.)</strike><br /><strike><span style="color: blue;">- Spray paint bathroom hardware to brushed
nickel</span></strike><br /><strike><span style="color: blue;">- Buy new globes to
cover bathroom lightbulbs</span></strike><br /><strike><span style="color: purple;">- Spray paint light fixtures to brushed
nickel</span></strike><br /><strike><span style="color: blue;">- Spray paint
cabinet hardward brushed nickel</span></strike><br /><span style="color: blue;">-
<strike>Clean ceiling to prepare to paint</strike></span><br />- Repaint bathroom
ceiling and <strike>walls<br /><span style="color: blue;">- Move existing drain and
pipes for bathtub to accomodate new height of
tub</span></strike><br /><strike><span style="color: blue;">-</span><span style="color: purple;">Move showerhead up 6"</span></strike><br /><strike><span style="color: blue;">- Build support box for tub to sit in</span></strike><br />-
<strike>Installation of new tub</strike> and surround<br />-<span style="color: blue;"><strike> Buy and install new waterproof drywall for shower
surround</strike></span><br /><span style="color: blue;">- <strike>Tile new shower
surround</strike></span><br /><strike><span style="color: blue;">-</span><span style="color: purple;"> Tile front of tub</span></strike>- <strike>Hook up
plumbing to bath</strike> <strike>and shower</strike><br />- <strike><span style="color: blue;">Paint room</span></strike><span style="color: blue;">-
Reinstall fixtures on walls</span><br /><span style="color: blue;">- <strike>Reinstall
bathroom lights</strike></span><br /><strike>- Installation of cabinets (either refinished
old ones with risers or new ones)</strike><span style="color: blue;">- <strike>Paint and
install new baseboards OR</strike> use tile as baseboard</span><br />- <strike>Installation
of countertops (either current one or new)<br />- <span style="color: blue;">Put in
new faucets</span></strike><span style="color: blue;">- <strike>Add new shower curtain</strike>
and bath mats </span><span style="color: purple;">and toilet paper
roll</span><br /><span style="color: purple;">- Look into storage options in
room</span><br />
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<span style="color: purple;"><span style="color: black;">Yep, all we have left to complete is the tile baseboards, a second coat of paint, putting the fixtures back, painting the ceiling, choosing storage for between the vanities, and buying accessories like new towels!</span></span><br />
<br />Muffin Cakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15921638826104681263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1135180141801689095.post-3088653982133793242012-06-19T00:03:00.000-07:002012-06-19T00:03:08.994-07:00Yellowstone.After a 5-ish hour drive through northern Utah and eastern Idaho, we found ourselves in West Yellowstone, Montana without even realizing it had happened. <a href="http://yellowstonekoa.com/" target="_blank">Our KOA</a> appeared almost out of nowhere by the side of the road, patches of snow still covering the ground in the shadows. We checked in, went to our kabin (the KOA version of a cabin, of course), went back to the office to switch to a kabin closer to the bathrooms and with a little more grass outside, and settled in. The kids were as excited as I'd ever seen them, running in and out of the kabin's door, climbing the bunk bed and 'helping' us unpack. We decided as soon as we got there that we would skip the park that afternoon and just settle in, eat dinner, and roast some marshmallows.<br />
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My in-laws had also made the trek, leaving a few days before us and taking a slower pace getting there. They were staying in a hotel up the road a few miles, so they came over to join us. The kids were so excited to see Grandma and Grandpa in a whole new state! They could not get over the fact that we'd traveled so far and still got to spend time with family.<br />
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Luca made her own marshmallows with just a little help. Oh, and if you're a novice camper please take note of our 'chocolate warming' technique seen in this picture. You have not had s'mores until you've had them with the graham cracker slightly toasted and the chocolate melty and warm like this. In a traditional campfire, you just set them on the rocks near a flame (but not too near, unless you want chocolate syrup). </div>
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But while I may be an expert in s'mores, I am less of one in beers. We'd stopped for groceries south of Salt Lake City and I thought I was a totally awesome wife for buying a 12 pack of local brewery beers for my husband. And he was happy. He was. Except for the fact that those bottles of beer were 3.5-4% alcohol each. What can I say - - - Darrick likes a good, strong beer and Utah didn't deliver. (He did say, however, the the funny names like Polygamy Porter and the good flavor almost made up for it.)</div>
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Sadface beer.</div>
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The kids were beyond adorable in their bedtime excitement. They could not wait to put on footie jammies and climb up in the top bunk together to go to bed. Not to SLEEP, mind you, because sleep would be boring and kabin adventures are not boring. It took these two beasts over and hour to settle down and sleep, but the payoff of sitting outside in the cold night area drinking hot chocolate with Kahlua and listening to their giddy laughter was more than enough compensation for kids up hours past bedtime.</div>
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The drive into the park the next morning was breathtaking. Darrick and I were in Yellowstone 8 years ago at the end of summer, but early summer Yellowstone did not disappoint. Getting in for 5 days only cost $25 and we felt a little bit like we were ripping off Mother Nature.</div>
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We were in the Park about 5 minutes before seeing our first field full of bison. Mamas and babies and males skirting the edges of the herd, all eating grass and laying in the sun. They took your breath away.</div>
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That first day was a tour of hot pools and sulphuric smelling water and beautiful rock walls and more wild animals than you could count. </div>
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There were hikes and silly faces in pictures and this new diva girl pose Luca randomly decided to adopt for pictures:</div>
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Swear she's trying to give her dad high blood pressure already.</div>
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My favorite things the first day in Yellowstone, in no particular order:</div>
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- blue, blue pools of steaming hot water</div>
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- bison</div>
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- elk</div>
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- kids eating up their Grandparent time</div>
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- Luca's fashion sense</div>
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- cold weather</div>
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- my kids, just being best buddies and loving being outdoors</div>
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^--This is what happens when you marry a science nerd.</div>
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(to be continued...)</div>
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<br /></div>Muffin Cakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15921638826104681263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1135180141801689095.post-77093743172172052292012-06-17T11:35:00.000-07:002012-06-17T11:35:00.150-07:0060 Hours (Part 2)The second day of vacation we ate shitty hotel free breakfast (because it's basically a vacation pre-req, right?) grabbed groceries and hit the road. Northern Utah is amazing, and southern Idaho will make you long for afternoons running through fields of yellow flowers.<br />
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We stopped just south of Idaho Falls for a picnic lunch and dove into a watermelon full force. The kids took off their shirts and let the juice drip down their faces. It was a slice of heaven.<br />
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This particular rest stop had a mini hike you could take over volcanic rock. The best part of the walk wasn't the nature or the weather, but the scares from Dad. Darrick would go ahead a bit while the kids took their sweet time lagging behind with me, waving a bubble wand through the air and sending huge bubbles floating above the black rocks.</div>
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And then they would come around a corner and...</div>
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Oh man, every time I look at those faces, I laugh so hard. Kids. Gotta love them.</div>
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We wrapped up our walk and headed back to the car to finish the drive north. </div>
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The kids fell asleep in the car, tired from running and shitting their pants with fear and eating half a watermelon. So Darrick and I had a little over an hour to just swoon over the landscape as it unrolled and unfurled around us. Everywhere we looked were idyllic farms and green pastures and rolling mountains. </div>
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The most amazing part was when we found ourselves in the northern part of eastern Idaho and out the right side of the van was nothing but endless green pastures and a sneak preview of the Grand Tetons. They rose into the sky and touched the clouds and I snapped about 200 pictures of Idaho rushing by.</div>
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Shortly before we got into the corner of Montana that we'd be making into a home-base the kids started to stir in the back, so we took the first turn off road we could find to give them a chance to go to the bathroom and stretch their little legs. By luck, we ended up in Henry's Lake Park which was a beautiful glimpse of what the next week would have to offer. Luca's head bobbed up sleepily from her nap, she stretched and looked out the window, and from the backseat we heard her exclaim, "Wow! This is awesome!" And let me tell you that even if the rest of the trip had been a complete disaster, that little outburst of pure unadulterated kid amazement would have made it all worth it to me.</div>
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There was a lot of time for running around in tall grass and picking wildflowers, which was just what we all needed after so many hours driving.</div>
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Those dandelion flowers became a mainstay of our trip. They were everywhere, and my kids could not be stopped from picking them. People would give them weird looks, carrying around these weeds, but in their eyes the were picking bright yellow wildflowers. Isn't a wildflower just a weed someone chose to admire, anyhow?</div>
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I mean, this guy is technically a weed, but he's also the size of Rohan's head and had people stopping to lean over and snap shots of him. </div>
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<br />That's the most beautiful thing about traveling somewhere lik Yellowstone with kids. People go there for the Grand Canyon of Yellowstone or Old Faithful. Kids see the beauty in bright yellow blooms they named 'sunny flowers' and a huge purple weed thriving by the side of one of Yellowstone's biggest pools of thermal waters.</div>
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(to be continued....)</div>
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(posting is slow going because of the # of pictures...)</div>Muffin Cakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15921638826104681263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1135180141801689095.post-86005807566396268142012-06-08T22:27:00.003-07:002012-06-08T22:27:35.696-07:0060 Hours of Driving.On Memorial Day, we woke at 4 am, threw the last of our things in the van and tied two suitcases to the roof rack and then headed out the door. The TV was unplugged, the sprinklers were set to go off every other day rather than every, the A/C was set to 85 and the sun was just starting to toy with the idea of rising. <br />
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We stopped for coffee, gas, and donuts and then headed over to gather the kids from my mom's house, where they'd spent the night so we could go to a wedding the night before. They were awake and dressed, and we bundled them into their car seats with their blankets tucked around them and their travel bags of toys and books next to each seat.<br />
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That first day, we didn't know how far we'd get. we only knew that our goal was to make it as far as we could before we lost both kids to epic meltdowns. We made it to Flagstaff around breakfast, so we stopped at a McDonald's so the kids could work out some energy and we could all use the restroom and get something to eat and drink. They were pretty excited to get back on the road, and we were anxious to put some distance behind us. The next few hours took us around the Grand Canyon National Park to the east, through reservation land where the sand is colored salmon and ochre and violet and the skies are baby blue. It was still early, and with the windows down and a cool breeze the ride was easy and went quickly enough. We stopped for an early lunch outside of Lake Powell.</div>
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Before hitting the road again, I took a few minutes to snuggle my puppies in the back of the van and telling them it was time to take a nap. Amazing as it seems, they DID nap. Success!</div>
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A few hours later, we checked into a hotel south of Salt Lake City and took the kids to dinner. The weather was amazing and the mountain range was topped in white snow when we found a sweet little elementary school and raided their park. Poor kids were so beat from a day of travel that they only played for a bit before asking to go to the hotel to sleep. </div>
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We went for a quick swim at the hotel's indoor pool, bathed the kids, and tucked in for the night. Luca and I laid down in one queen bed and Mo started the night next to Darrick. Before I fell asleep I felt his warm little body climb in next to me, and I drifted off for the first night of vacation sandwiched between my two kids and completely in bliss.</div>
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10 hours on the road, complete.</div>
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(to be continued)</div>
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<br /></div>Muffin Cakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15921638826104681263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1135180141801689095.post-55892819006251791022012-05-23T23:23:00.001-07:002012-05-23T23:23:35.813-07:00First Day/Last DayLuca's last day of preschool was today. And, in spite of my big fears it would go otherwise, I rolled with it pretty well. I only got choked up once, when talking to a co-worker about how I couldn't believe we will have a preschooler and a kindergartner in August. <br />
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She's grown and learned so much these past two years. She is completely the same in so many ways, but new in ways that really matter. Above all, preschool gave her a chance to become her own person outside the world of our family and gave her confidence. I look at the pictures of her biting her lip before walking into her first day of school, and compare that to the happy girl who ran to the car today to start summer break and I am eternally grateful for growth.<br />
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First Day:<br />
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Last Day:</div>
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<br /></div>Muffin Cakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15921638826104681263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1135180141801689095.post-39711349083980362732012-05-21T23:14:00.003-07:002012-05-21T23:17:28.063-07:0015 Feet from Bed.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
It's been awhile since I <a href="http://theazkahles.blogspot.com/2012/04/almost-there.html" target="_blank">updated on our master bathroom</a>, mostly because it's been awhile since we did anything significant in there. Shortly after my last update we hit a stalling point. I spent a solid day with my mother-in-law helping me to finish the tile surround (going up and down and up and down and up and down the stairs to get from the bathroom to the tile saw is not the MOST fun I've had in a weekend), and then it sat like that. For....um....weeks. Because the next step was to go in there with a green scrubbing pad and hot water and make those tiles shine. And really, there is very little that sounds as un-fun to me as the idea of spending hours scrubbing every last bit of thinset off of and from between tiles so we can grout.</div>
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Except grouting. THAT sounds less fun, but really only because my husband buys epoxy grout which is about as easy to spread on the walls and into the joints as frozen peanut butter being spread onto soft white bread. </div>
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We did manage to move the mirror up a few inches to accomodate the taller counters. That was all KINDS of fun, but it's done and it worked.</div>
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Anyhow, once the tile was up and I was officially stalling to avoid scrubbing it clean, we had a few other bathroom items to attend to before we could move on. Number one on the list was a new toilet. The old one worked fine, but it was almond colored, and with all the fixtures in the bathroom being white now that just wasn't working for me. So one Saturday morning Darrick followed a Craigslist ad to a rich neighborhood not too far away to get two new white toilets. Turns out, rich people buy houses brand new and then rip out the unused toilets and sell them on Craigslist. For $25 each. When they would have cost about $150 new. </div>
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We ended up getting a second one to replace the toilet in the other bathroom because why not, right? He still had to run to Home Depot for toilet seats and lids (no way were we getting THOSE off Craigslist!) and while there he decided it was as good a time as any to buy our new countertops and 2 new ceiling fans. Why new ceiling fans, you ask. I'm not sure. I mean, we needed them but we did not need to spend that money and deal with installing them (3 hours each, anyone?). Alas, we compromised on the ceiling fans and I let him keep one for our bedroom but made him return the other for now.</div>
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I also let him keep the countertops, which look like <a href="http://www.homedepot.com/Bath-Bathroom-Vanities-Sinks-Cabinets-Bathroom-Vanities-Vanity-Tops-Side-Splashes/h_d1/N-5yc1vZbz9s/R-100678332/h_d2/ProductDisplay?catalogId=10053&langId=-1&storeId=10051" target="_blank">these</a> except without the cheest 1992-style builder basic faucets. </div>
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Once the new toilet was installed, my husband got kind of lazy. Ok, that's not entirely fair as he's been working his butt off, but it might be considered accurate to say he got complacent. I mean, once you're without a master bathroom toilet for 5 months and then you get one back....what more does a man need? He can shit in his OWN BATHROOM! And you had better believe I heard that no less than eleventy bajillion times in a week.</div>
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But this weekend? This weekend we killed it. First, my husband installed the cabinets in their place by screwing them into the studs. Then he put the countertops on them and attached them to the wall with liquid nails and added the side splash guard things (which he kept calling bumpers for some unknown reason and thusly almost drove me nuts to the point where I just bit my tongue instead of correcting him so that I could then feel very proud of myself for not correcting him when he was in the bathroom slaving away). Once those were in place, I reattached the cabinet doors and drawer fronts, and then 'we' went back through and took the drawer fronts off and re-reattached them because 'we' hadn't done it well enough the first time and they were a bit loose and crooked. And the only thing that's allowed to be BOTH loose AND crooked is a hooker in an old Clint Eastwood western. </div>
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::ahem::</div>
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When all that was done and the tiles were scrubbed too (Finally! Jeez!) Darrick installed the faucets and then we stood back and felt really special about the whole thing cuz DAMN does it look nice.</div>
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This is where I should share picures, but: (a) I don't have any uploaded, and (b) I'm waiting to show pictures when it's ALL DONE. Which at the rate we're going will be sometime in June or November.</div>
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The last thing we did? Picked a godforsaken paint color (and, sadly, threw away the collection of 3,472 paint sample chips I've amassed since January) and slapped a first coat up on the wall. And after MONTHS of going back and forth and taping up samples and even buying a gallon of paint only to hate it on the walls, we decided together on a color we both love:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeKbk-qYbYyF2HMeu_0U5LZZJa9Otm6j65bLSr0i0ku3PerWGhxsQgxIAGRlXgDBMkeylxM8cJ4tEJhlGq4ssrZAOc5h-ds0DzQsLMxvOxDaMyF4bfyeQh2PzBsB1F5spsMUdY-Y0QrtU/s1600/paint+bathroom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeKbk-qYbYyF2HMeu_0U5LZZJa9Otm6j65bLSr0i0ku3PerWGhxsQgxIAGRlXgDBMkeylxM8cJ4tEJhlGq4ssrZAOc5h-ds0DzQsLMxvOxDaMyF4bfyeQh2PzBsB1F5spsMUdY-Y0QrtU/s640/paint+bathroom.jpg" width="462" /></a></div>
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<em>From: </em><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAPJjpQBhn54V9Yn_5F0FQahsCtVC1YB4nWmWV428mCfE5nX3kriBM1Ejp0ClR-dT7m7as0d0pH1KnZj7pU1EVQjNCrHLufEy0zNYLJ3_iBiq_YNNOO_jUSbod6saM1cUMSWoiB7SMs3q1/s320/Color+Swatches.jpg"><em>https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAPJjpQBhn54V9Yn_5F0FQahsCtVC1YB4nWmWV428mCfE5nX3kriBM1Ejp0ClR-dT7m7as0d0pH1KnZj7pU1EVQjNCrHLufEy0zNYLJ3_iBiq_YNNOO_jUSbod6saM1cUMSWoiB7SMs3q1/s320/Color+Swatches.jpg</em></a></div>
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Can you guess which one? Dun dun duhhhhhhhh...</div>
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Time to update the to-do list!</div>
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<strike>- Call
insurance and file claim</strike></div>
<strike>- Remove baseboards</strike><br />
-
<strike>Remove toilet and cover hole</strike> <br />
- <strike>Remove
tile</strike><br />
<strike><span style="color: blue;">- Remove subflooring below
tile</span></strike><br />
<strike><span style="color: purple;">- Remove flooring
BELOW subflooring.</span></strike><br />
- <strike>Remove tub surround (also
involves removing showerhead and closing off that pipe)</strike><br />
<strike>-
Pull out and discard tub (also involves removing and covering drain into
floor)</strike><br />
<strike>- Have insurance assessor look at damage and
determine if it's going to be covered by insurance</strike><br />
- Cut away
water-damaged drywall in garage ceiling<br />
- Put in new insulation and replace
drywall. <br />
- <strike>Potential repair/replacement of subflooring in
bathroom</strike><br />
<strike>- Potential refinishing of
cabinets</strike><br />
<strike><span style="color: blue;">- Sand, stain, buff, and
poly cabinets, doors, and drawers</span></strike><br />
<strike><span style="color: purple;">- Build risers to increase height of
cabinets</span></strike><br />
<span style="color: purple;">-<strike> Buy new counter tops
and faucets for cabinets</strike></span><br />
<strike><span style="color: purple;">- Move sink plumbing on both sides to accomdate taller
cabinets</span><br /><span style="color: purple;">- Move, replace, or cut down
mirror to accomodate new taller cabinets</span><br /><span style="color: purple;">- Replace layer of plywood on subfloor, sealing
together with Liquid Nails</span></strike><br />
<span style="color: purple;"><strike>- Install Hardi Backer over floor plywood with
mortar and screws</strike></span><br />
<span style="color: purple;"><strike>-
Install new tile</strike></span><br />
<span style="color: purple;"><strike>- Grout
new tile</strike></span><br />
<span style="color: purple;">-<strike> Fix pipes
below floor level for toilet</strike></span><br />
<span style="color: purple;">-
<strike>Replace toilet flange and put in new toilet</strike></span><br />
<strike>-</strike>
<strike>Removal of current counters and cabinets</strike><br />
<strike>- Removal
of hardware (towel rack, light plates, etc.)</strike><br />
<strike><span style="color: blue;">- Spray paint bathroom hardware to brushed
nickel</span></strike><br />
<strike><span style="color: blue;">- Buy new globes to
cover bathroom lightbulbs</span></strike><br />
<strike><span style="color: purple;">- Spray paint light fixtures to brushed
nickel</span></strike><br />
<strike><span style="color: blue;">- Spray paint
cabinet hardward brushed nickel</span></strike><br />
<span style="color: blue;">-
<strike>Clean ceiling to prepare to paint</strike></span><br />
- Repaint bathroom
ceiling and <strike>walls<br /><span style="color: blue;">- Move existing drain and
pipes for bathtub to accomodate new height of
tub</span></strike><br />
<strike><span style="color: blue;">-</span><span style="color: purple;">Move showerhead up 6"</span></strike><br />
<strike><span style="color: blue;">- Build support box for tub to sit in</span></strike><br />
-
<strike>Installation of new tub</strike> and surround<br />
-<span style="color: blue;"><strike> Buy and install new waterproof drywall for shower
surround</strike></span><br />
<span style="color: blue;">- <strike>Tile new shower
surround</strike></span><br />
<strike><span style="color: blue;">-</span><span style="color: purple;"> Tile front of tub</span></strike>- <strike>Hook up plumbing to
bath</strike> and shower<br />
- <strike><span style="color: blue;">Paint
room</span></strike><span style="color: blue;">- Reinstall fixtures on
walls</span><br />
<span style="color: blue;">- Reinstall bathroom
lights</span><br />
<strike>- Installation of cabinets (either refinished old ones with
risers or new ones)</strike><span style="color: blue;">- Paint and
install new baseboards OR use tile as baseboard</span><br />
- <strike>Installation of
countertops (either current one or new)<br />- <span style="color: blue;">Put in
new faucets</span></strike><span style="color: blue;">- Add new shower curtain and
bath mats </span><span style="color: purple;">and toilet paper
roll</span><br />
<span style="color: purple;">- Look into storage options in
room</span><br />
See?!?!?! Almost there!!!!! I can't wait until we're done because while the coup de gras for my husband was shitting a mere 15 feet from his bed, for me it will be the first long bath in that nice new tub!Muffin Cakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15921638826104681263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1135180141801689095.post-6589228251968402222012-05-07T23:22:00.003-07:002012-05-07T23:30:27.639-07:00She Is 5, She Is Mine.This little baby:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQAaTSfiHK7rOrofSWrOxXD18AeDo0wWE_saGxJamAMU0jjbUsZ8Fd7VKSlofHrFg48aZvkq2S50z4dsgc3zwRrJ5j0F1c6nKPMzeQ-eYkwKqmq-k35FaQIvMsTvxFHK-XZ0WF3oZzo4U/s1600/sweetness2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="464" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQAaTSfiHK7rOrofSWrOxXD18AeDo0wWE_saGxJamAMU0jjbUsZ8Fd7VKSlofHrFg48aZvkq2S50z4dsgc3zwRrJ5j0F1c6nKPMzeQ-eYkwKqmq-k35FaQIvMsTvxFHK-XZ0WF3oZzo4U/s640/sweetness2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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She is 5 today.</div>
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I don't know how it happened, but the little doll-baby with the huge blue eyes and peach-soft cheeks is now a little girl.</div>
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Birthdays in preschool mean treats, so Darrick dropped off Rohan this morning so I could steal some sweet alone time with my first baby. She chose a fancy purple dress for school and we pulled her hair away from her face. We drove to school talking about parties and balloons. I took her to the store where she picked popsicles for the class treat, and she made sure we didn't forget Skittles for her friend in class who has allergies. He's not allowed to eat birthday treats because of fear of an allergy attack, but Skittles are on the short list of treats he is allowed. </div>
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<br />We walked into class together, her tiny hand with newly painted nails (Hello Kitty sparkle polish) grasping mine. I handed the bag of treats to her teacher, and she pulled out the Skittles and asked for it to be put aside for her friend who can't have popsicles. I felt a tug at my heart for this girl, my girl, who always remembers her friends.</div>
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Dinner tonight was pizza with family and best friends. We played games and won prizes and laughed and ate cake. She tickled the cheeks of her baby cousin and colored a picture of a butterfly to give her best friend. </div>
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Since her birthday was a Monday and I couldn't miss work we made Sunday into Luca Day. "Anything you want to do," we told her. "Anything?!?!" she asked. The world hers for the taking, she chose donuts for breakfast, park and splash pad fun, and lots of cuddles.</div>
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Grandma and Grandpa took us out to dinner, her first fancy meal to celebrate a certain sense of coming of age. From toddler to child. From little girl to little lady. There were big glasses filled with Sprite and fancy linens and roses on the table just for her. There was the story, from Grandma, of how she was born and 4 days later I walked with her in my arms across a huge, hot parking lot so she could see her Daddy graduate from ASU. For dessert, she had a piece of cheesecake all to herself. Afterward, we went to a park nearby and walked around the lake. She held her brother's hand and chased trolls from under the bridges that criss-crossed the lake.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJDhpui6EkjiJaFVRRMLoro8m8g_Dt8H87CIdvXGyW6NL3kYRN7Jxp9oAHzvcDVmx_r0Y-MIKLCp_xWDou_yq4NC9QHhu6HruC0449fgFFoe891TwqI36ZKQ6KXPV5wdYVWRNjhkU0r2g/s1600/DSC_0808copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJDhpui6EkjiJaFVRRMLoro8m8g_Dt8H87CIdvXGyW6NL3kYRN7Jxp9oAHzvcDVmx_r0Y-MIKLCp_xWDou_yq4NC9QHhu6HruC0449fgFFoe891TwqI36ZKQ6KXPV5wdYVWRNjhkU0r2g/s640/DSC_0808copy.jpg" width="428" /></a></div>
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It was one of those nights where everything was perfect: the sky, the food, the company, her. Always her.</div>
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For Christmas she asked for a horse. When we told her it wasn't likely that Santa would deliver because we couldn't possibly house one in our yard, she acquiesced and said a unicorn would do.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjMYaXs72gtUfDsbR6KpIcsxXouePOKHKSXG3ojJYjMW2nq480A-Bsd2AjqVlyaGJeVJmzRLqAEToQmUmsMyJZLXDwdVfYj5A_pYrketmt_4V6IJ5jfH4ttHAlilP9HamqHpN8Bdo__0s/s1600/DSC_0792.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjMYaXs72gtUfDsbR6KpIcsxXouePOKHKSXG3ojJYjMW2nq480A-Bsd2AjqVlyaGJeVJmzRLqAEToQmUmsMyJZLXDwdVfYj5A_pYrketmt_4V6IJ5jfH4ttHAlilP9HamqHpN8Bdo__0s/s640/DSC_0792.JPG" width="428" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPfK9v8SPWTY8Fn5LJTPh2lbhyphenhypheny5CWrRArUrTwVhti3oyEmIEByKWSxQutrW5dvKZhrTq3_lduaKptaM6D1FxDDFa05_eZbf7VDSTpaBBfCcQytn9unZZN29L7Yyzwq95YbP0kI-p9BOw/s1600/DSC_0788.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPfK9v8SPWTY8Fn5LJTPh2lbhyphenhypheny5CWrRArUrTwVhti3oyEmIEByKWSxQutrW5dvKZhrTq3_lduaKptaM6D1FxDDFa05_eZbf7VDSTpaBBfCcQytn9unZZN29L7Yyzwq95YbP0kI-p9BOw/s640/DSC_0788.JPG" width="428" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSptYnSKkgkVuZawZBkXloEuNkNBoPBMxfsLuVM2fXJQgDze10cXKtXfff60NF-tfCjtQCQvByuozWaFS0fylLVqJhNzlCqAKC3wGnMZV-MA6w2gwSptjEDWe-lVq7SrWEd610QjLy5h0/s1600/DSC_0799.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSptYnSKkgkVuZawZBkXloEuNkNBoPBMxfsLuVM2fXJQgDze10cXKtXfff60NF-tfCjtQCQvByuozWaFS0fylLVqJhNzlCqAKC3wGnMZV-MA6w2gwSptjEDWe-lVq7SrWEd610QjLy5h0/s640/DSC_0799.JPG" width="428" /></a></div>
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She got her unicorn.</div>
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When we got home from dinner, Darrick and I had to work together on installing a new ceiling fan in our bedroom, so the kids decided to make the best of it and throw an animal party. Before we knew it, every stuffed animal in the house was circled around the unicorn in her bedroom. Big and small turtles, Minnie and Mickey Mouse, three bears, a duck, a hippo, a puppy - all sitting on the floor together facing the desk in her room, where a CD was playing from her Disney Princess player.</div>
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<em>Emancipate yourself from mental slavery;</em></div>
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<em>None but ourselves can free our minds.</em></div>
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Bob Marley was singing and the animals were listenig. And in the middle of it all, a unicorn nursed her young. As soon as she was done, Luca dressed her properly in a rainbow glitter tutu, then took a seat to milk the unicorn.</div>
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<em>"You're milking the unicorn?"</em></div>
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"Yeah, she has a baby who drinks her boobie milk. But all these other babies - " sweeping a hand over her minions, "- they all need her milk too."</div>
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<em>"Oh, well by all means. Milk away."</em></div>
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They filled several small buckets with invisible unicorn boobie milk and passed them around. Letting the other animals drink the fortifying magical milk of unicorns.</div>
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I could not make this shit up if I tried. And I also can't even pretend to be anything less than smashed-to-pieces in love with this kid. This girl. This beauty. This amazing magical wonder whose soul is older than dust but whose spirit I hope stays forever young and full of wonder.</div>
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Tonight they splashed together in a tub of bubbles, Daddy washing their hair and scrubbing their backs while I remade their beds with fresh sheets that smell of gardenias and honey. I wrapped them in towels, tousled their hair dry, rubbed lotion into their skin before letting her choose the bedtime story. I sat on the floor and she stood in front of me and it was only when she asked me what was wrong that I realized I was smoothing lotion into the knees of a <em>kid</em>. Not a baby, whose fat knees are smooth and puckered. A kid, whose knees hold the stories of trips and falls and scrapes and 5 years of life. But I couldn't explain that to her because how do you tell your first-born you're both mourning the loss of baby-soft knees and listening to the stories to be told by that ever-changing skin? </div>
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Wrapped under a gauzey tent that hangs above her bed, cocooned in a swath of pink blankets, she <a href="http://theazkahles.blogspot.com/2007/11/6-months.html" target="_blank">asked to hear the story of when she was born.</a> We were just to the part where we'd left her Grandma and Grandpa's house and rolled down our windows to breath in the last moments of Just Us as we drove home when I spied Rohan, listening in from the doorway. She invited him in and then it was the three of us. Minnie Mouse played the part of Luca, hidden below my shirt. Giggles erupted from both kids when I told them how I'd been unable to sleep, so full of excitement and all, so I'd bathed and done my toenails and then watched movies and slept on the couch all night only waking here and there to aknowledge the early cramps of labor. </div>
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Her eyes grew huge when I remembered all the people who came to meet her and how we all just stared into this tiny, beautiful face and these impossibly huge blue eyes and fell madly, swiftly in love.</div>
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"It hurt when I was born, right mommy?"</div>
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<em>"It did. But I don't really remember it hurting. I just remember being so happy."</em></div>
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"So when you have a baby, it hurts? And then the baby is born and love comes in and fills all the spaces that hurt? And instead of being full of hurt, you're all full up of love?"</div>
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<em>"Yes, I think that's about right."</em></div>
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"So love is soft like your belly?"</div>
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<em>"I guess that must be true."</em></div>
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<em>"You're not a baby anymore, Luca. But you will always, always be my first baby and I'll always love you more than you could ever know."</em></div>
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"Always?"</div>
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<em>"Absolutely."</em></div>
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"Wow."</div>
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<em>"Absolutely."</em></div>
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<em>Five years ago yesterday, I was anxiously working through labor, pumped with adrenaline and wonder. Waiting to meet her.</em></div>
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<br /><em>Five years ago this morning, at 12:10 a.m., she came earthside and I felt the world collide around me. Waiting to know her.</em></div>
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<em>Five years ago tonight, I was exhausted and elated and stayed awake despite the pleas of nurse just to watch her sleep. Waiting to find the mom in me.</em></div>
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<em>Five years, filled with so very much love and soul-expanding lessons in being humble and human and greater than I knew I could be for her. For both of them. For us.</em></div>
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She is 5, she is mine.</div>
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<br /> </div>Muffin Cakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15921638826104681263noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1135180141801689095.post-78167866242928802192012-04-27T11:01:00.002-07:002012-04-27T11:01:48.184-07:00Love Love Love<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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