The girls’ bedroom has had many incarnations. Before its (thankfully) clean, bright, pretty, and deathly material-free current self, it was a nursery with oddly placed acoustic ceiling tiles. (Nowhere else on the third floor had these bedroom ceiling tiles.) And prior to that, it was a cross between a blank slate and a crack den in a fixer-upper home.
And we were either blinded by our own idealism or constrained by the available properties in our price range- it’s so hard to say. I digress.
Anyhow.
For years, I’d worked oh-so hard to keep that room clean and pretty for Nora. And I’ve gotta tell you, it always seemed an uphill battle. No matter how I scrubbed and dusted and polished, it always seemed…slightly grimy. WELL, THAT’S WHAT YOU GET FOR BUYING A BORDERLINE LIVABLE HOME, we’d laugh to ourselves. HAHAHAHAHAHA.
So when we found out that Jasper would be joining our family, we scooted Susannah upstairs to bunk in what would now be referred to as The Big Girl Room. And it was still slightly dusty, still slightly grimy. But I chalked it up to two very little, very active girls. (And, you know, actual chalk.)
It was only last week- close to five years since we bought our version of The Money Pit- that P.J. noticed a powdery substance in the room- and the way that it was hitting objects suggested that the powder was coming from the ceiling. OH BOY! So we called Our Guy. (Who really deserves his own spinoff blog called They Are Actually Still Living There, People.) And he stopped by to take a look at their room- and perhaps pencil us in for work in a week, two weeks, no rush.
Then he saw the ceiling tile and the powder.
HEY, he said brightly. WE’RE GONNA START THIS ASAP. LIKE AT 8AM.
The girls proceeded to bunk together in our guest room for the next three nights (ooh, whee!) and I proceeded to Jenga every single one of their possessions and furniture items into our bedroom and closets. And the work began.
So here’s what the room used to look like:
And then they gutted. Lookie loo at that disintegrated insulation, just ripe for snowing down on unsuspecting children’s heads!
Here’s P.J., standing in the gutted room, smiling that Who’s Gonna Pay For This “Dad Smile.”
And for funsies, here’s a similar pic of P.J., five years ago, standing in this same crack den nursery and pleasantly wondering what the heck we’d gotten ourselves into.
This is what a patched-up room looks like. Note the smooth ceiling! Also note the brand new walls along the door! (Fun fact: turns out those were painted wooden planks and butted up against our hallway furnace. Inspection fail say what?)
Another fun fact: the joint compound took nearly two full days to dry (a taaad longer than the 8 hours they had promised), pushing painting back a little later in the week. Our Guy said- not for the first time- What is up with your house? (Take a number on finding out that answer, pal.) And remember the baptism we had scheduled for that weekend? And the house full of people? Y’all ever try to get construction dust off of countertops and guest room pillows at breakneck speed? (Spoiler: It’s hard.)
It finally dried so they could prime all up in there.
Here’s a room with some nice Mystic Light paint. We let the girls choose- and thankfully, their choice was neither fuschia nor racing stripes. It’s kind of a periwinkle with slight lavender undertones. (Stop rolling your eyes, P.J.)
And boom shaka laka- New, Non-Room O’ Death! (Please forgive the freshly laundered and thusly wrinkled curtains- and generally non-staginess which precludes me from ever being considered an actual lifestyle blogger. Le Sigh.)
Breathe that fresh, non-toxic air! You are welcome, children.
Speaking of the children, you may have noticed that we took this opportunity to whisk away Zu’s toddler bed and replace it with a matching twin bed to Nora’s.
How’s she adjusting? Like a champ, that’s how.
I mean, it’s hard to compete with a crib shoved in the corner of a disintegrating room…but we try.
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