50 Shades of a Kitchen Remodel Romance

Four score and 5 years ago, I married Andy. My prince charming, if you will. Somehow we ended up married. He bought me a ring and I know we both said, "I do." And we meant it. He never proposed. No bended knee. No romantic story. It MAY have gone something like this:

Me: When can we get married?

Andy: What are you talking about? This is our 2nd date.

This continued for a few months.

Then, one day, we stopped at Borsheims on the way to buy some fancy olive oil at William Sonoma. I suppose Borsheims is the Tiffany's of the plains. Then we MAY have had a conversation that went like this:

Me: I think we should pick out my ring?

Andy: .......Where's the olive oil?

Well, somehow we picked one out. And the ring too. And then we MAY have had another conversation:

Me: Are we engaged?

Andy: No.

Me: When will we be engaged?

Andy: When the ring is ready.

So, we waited the two weeks or so for the ring to get assembled and sized and then on the way to dinner or maybe it was a Billy Joel concert... I can't remember... we picked up the ring. And as we were pulling out of the parking lot and on to the road, I ask Andy:

Me: So, I can wear the ring, right?

Andy: Yes.

Me: So we're engaged now?

Andy: Yes.

Me: You didn't ask me.

Andy: Ask you what?

Now Andy insists that THIS is when he said something like this:

Andy: Will you marry me?

And if we BELIEVE Andy, then I probably said something like this:

Me: Yes.

I don't remember him asking me. Probably because we were in his car. In a parking lot, driving. And I was probably concentrating on the road for fear the glare off my ENGAGEMENT RING might blind other drivers and cause a wreck! So, I stand by my side of the story. And even if he DID ask me... It doesn't count because we were in oncoming traffic, trying not to crash, whilst admiring my new rock.

And so we lived happily ever after.

But that's not why I'm writing about him. I'm mostly writing to tell you that when I met Andy, he could hardly change a light bulb. I'm serious. Changing a light bulb was a great feat. He could assemble things out of box with directions. He even liked to do that. But otherwise I had a handy man. And my dad.

 One day, we had a baby. Just like that. And there we were, together, with this baby, up all night. Well, Andy must have been bored. He started watching HGTV. Hours and hours and hours and hours of HGTV.

Then when this baby that had poofed into our life was about 3 months old, Andy decided to remodel a bathroom. Then a bar. Then another bathroom. Then when the baby was 1, Andy decided to remodel his room so that we could make room for another baby. Then when this second baby was 1 month, Andy decided to paint the built ins in the family room. Then when this baby was 2 months old, Andy decided to remodel the kitchen.

*thud*

When we bought this house, Andy promised that within "2-5" years we would remodel the kitchen. That kept me quiet for about a year in a half. Especially since up until the birth of our first child, he thought a hammer was a just a overrated 90s pop star.

Since June, Andy has been building the cabinets. And they're looking really good. My prince charming who could hardly wield a lightbulb, stands in the garage with the sun setting and glistening in his dark brown hair.  The heat of the summer unrelenting, as he clenches his fist around his saw, sweat dripping off his...

I gotta stop reading 50 shades of Grey.

Anyway, its hot out. That's my point.

I'll be posting more about his progress... So far, I've gotten bids from the plumber, electrician, HVAC, and waiting for the siding guy to come out. Its a huge job. The entire kitchen is getting bashed to the bones. The layout will change.

Its so exciting. New appliances. New floors. New counter tops. New backsplash. New lighting. New everything. The problem is I really don't love decorating. I like picking out stuff. But I never know if it really looks good with the other stuff I pick out. I have two children under the age of 2. I'm sleeping an average of 5 hours a night. Night after night. And don't tell Andy, but I even feel a bit like an abandoned wife and mother because he is working his ass off to give me my dream kitchen.

Here's what I got so far:

 

This next item shall be known as "Stacy's Faucet". She has a very similar faucet. I have faucet envy. I tried to quit you Stacy's faucet. But I couldn't. So I bought you. But not the soap dispense. 

Visit my Pinterest page to see what other tricks are up my sleeve! 

I also have:

My beautiful friend, Whitney. She got married. I needed a picture. I really good picture, of my friend Whitney. Visit her blog too. 

Whitney has been helping me pick out finishes. Weigh the pros and cons. Plus, she read 50 shades of Grey too. So you know she's good. 

I'll be posting some pictures over the weekend of the cabinet boxes that my carpenter has whipped up. Stay tuned.

Oh, and just in case you were wondering. Adam still insists on pie, every morning, afternoon, and evening. Its the first thing on his mind as evidenced on Sunday morning when I got him up to go to church. We had a conversation that may have gone like this:

Me: Good Morning Adam! Rise and Shine! 

Adam: "Pie eeeeees Gooooooooooood!!! Mmmmmm!"

Lucky for Adam, we were headed to church where there was plenty of pie. 

Drop me a comment and let me know what you think of my kitchen selections! (Of course, only comment if you love them. If you hate them I don't want to know.) 

And until then…

Laters, Baby.