The Bathroom Brag Book

Our old bathroom. Bone colored toilet, bath and tile. Stained wallpaper. Peeling vinyl floor. Skinniest closet known to man. And FREEZING in the winter. Sometimes so cold the pipes would freeze.

The old shower. About a month after we moved in, Steve leaned on the soap dish and it fell off revealing a nicely rotted wall behind the tile. He installed this surround as a quick fix until we were ready to remodel. You can't see it in the photo but there is a VERY LOW, popcorn coated ceiling over the shower. Every time I cleaned the shower I accidentally knocked a little dusting of popcorn into the tub. And watched the ceiling absorb water. Yuck.

Did I mention we had 2 bids from contractors to remodel our bathroom for us? They both came back with a total of around $15,000. Ouch. And impossible. So, four months ago, Steve started demolition. When he tore out the ceiling, we were surprised to find a whole lotta space up there.

Plumbing needed to be relocated to an inside wall to avoid freezing.

I am pretty good at visualizing, but it was hard to see a pretty bathroom coming out of this. Even after picking out tile, fixtures and paint colors, I was getting nervous about how it would all come together. We got help with the plumbing, but Steve did everything else. Insulation, wiring, drywall, tiling...and it was his first attempt at most of it. He did an amazing job. As an added luxury he installed a fan that is also a heater. No more frigid winter mornings in this bathroom.

Ta-da! The high ceiling (which is so high I couldn't fit it in the frame) and the narrow toilet tank make the bathroom seem loads bigger. The pedestal sink is larger than our old vanity. You can actually set things on the edge of the sink now. I love the way everything turned out.

Steve replaced the world's skinniest closet with some much more functional shelves.

I'm cherishing this photo. Our new, perfect bathroom. Before all of the bath toys, Spiderman toothbrushes, and Elmo bubble bath bottles take over...

Thank you, my brave husband. You are super talented and hard-working. Thank you for giving up all of your free time and most of your sleep for this.

Saying Goodbye to Grandpa

(4 Generations of Carl Schoenebergs)

Yesterday we celebrated my grandpa's life and said goodbye. The visitation was full of family and sweet friends. The service made special note of Grandpa's character and ability as a craftsman. And at the burial he was given full military honors. For me, that was the most emotional part; to watch people who did not know him at all, honor him for serving as a pilot during WWII. It was so long ago, and not a part of his life we knew, but it was not forgotten by our country. It made Grandpa's life seem a lot bigger than our family, which was true beyond just his military service, but something I took for granted. He was just my grandpa to me.

Many sweet words about Grandpa were shared yesterday. Here's what I shared during the service:

In my childhood memories, Grandpa is kind of like a magician. He had a magical workshop full of big scary tools, and various projects in different stages of completion. My brother and I would scour the workshop floor, collecting scraps of wood and metal that seemed like little treasures. (I think that's how Grandpa got us to clean up his workshop for him.) Grandpa could make anything.

Grandpa's garage was full of antique cars and a huge RV that we spent hours in, pretending to drive across the country, making up CB handles while playing cards and drinking pretend sodas out of colorful aluminum cups. Sometimes Grandpa would even take us out for a ride around the neighborhood in one of the cars he was working on. I didn't really understand why, but the ride was better than a roller coaster and I felt like a Princess in the back seat with Grandpa as my chauffeur.

Every time we came over, the projects were a little more complete, the cars looked a little more like cars and when we were really lucky, Grandpa had a project he wanted to work on with us. It was sweet time when you got to be the magician's assistant. As I got older I understood that the magic was really just Grandpa's creativity and hard work. What he did he did well, and he loved it.

His greatest, most treasured creation was his family. He loved Grandma dearly, and every thing he did was out of devotion to her. He was devoted to all of us. And in recent years, when Grandpa couldn't hear so well, and didn't have as much to say, you could still see it on his face. He'd get this little smile and reach out his hand to give the nearest great-grandchild a squeeze or a tickle.

I think what God wants most from all of us (as part of faith in Him) is to try to love each other well. And I think grandpa really tried his best to do that, and to teach his family to do the same. He taught us to respect every single person we come into contact with, to be kind, to be generous, humble, and to lead lives of integrity.

I treasure the memories of the magic, but these lessons; the lessons about how to love well, are his greatest gift to us.

The First Trip to the ER

(Addie, please forgive me for the mugshot.)

Addie slipped in the new tub today, probably because it doesn't have the thick coating of soap scum our old tub had. When she fell, she busted her chin open on the side of the tub. Of course, the person with medical training was not home, so I had to make the call on whether or not the injury required stitches. At Cardinal Glennon, they confirmed that yes, a band-aid would not do. But I was surprised when they told me they were going to glue it shut. The nurses were great. They made sure Addie was completely pain-free the whole time, they gave both of the kids popsicles while we waited and we even got to watch Tom and Jerry. The most uncomfortable part was for me, when I had to hold Addie's hands away from her face while they cleaned the blood and what-not from her chin. Instant heebie-geebies. Addie came through like a champ! Glue should wear off in a week and she'll be good as new.

Birthday Parties

Whether the celebration is for one of my kids or not, birthday parties seem to bring out the brattitude in Daniel and Addie. The combination of new toys to covet, lots of sugar, and the typical afternoon timing of parties appears to be the catalyst for my children to turn into the worst version of themselves. If you ever watch Wordgirl on PBS, one of the villains she battles is a girl named Eileen who turns into a giant green monster named "Birthday Girl" when she wants something and can't have it. (I love that show.) And if Daniel and Addie haven't completely melted down by the end of the party, the treat bag is the tipping point. I can't tell you how many treat bags I've wanted to chuck out the window on the way home.

As Daniel's 5th birthday approaches I dread every party we are invited to, mostly because I don't want him to ask for his own destination birthday party with friends. I just don't want to do it. Number one, I don't want to spend the money. And two, I don't want to be Mom to the "Birthday Girl" version of Daniel in the days (possibly weeks) leading up to the party.

I don't know how to ward off the gimme's and teach the kids to be grateful at this age. My feeble attempt today somehow ended up with me asking Daniel if he thought toys were more important than people. He replied, "Yes, because toys make people happy and making people happy is very important." Ugh.

Plan B: Distraction. If Daniel asks for a destination party I'll tell him, "No, we're having a party in the backyard with family as usual...but as a special treat Daddy is going to take you to Six Flags!"