Bye bye bathtub!

Day 2 marked the removal of the bathtub and lots of flooring. The new shower base appeared in our garage, so I expect that will be the first *new* thing to go in this week.

Beyond the bathroom, all four of us are sharing the hallway bath which was previously exclusively used by the kids. It's been illuminating to be in there ... it was in serious need of a deep clean and Drano. Mark cleaned the tub and floors on Saturday. Today I'm going to make sure the kids only put back in what they are using every day because there's precious little shelf space in there. When I cleaned out my own stuff I found a ridiculous quantity of hotel and travel size shampoo. It's my mission to use ALL of them up during this renovation, with the added advantage that they're tiny and I can put them in odd places.

I gave everyone a new rule to abide by, which is unless you are naked, you have to leave the bathroom door open so someone else can get to a sink. Also there is no reason to be naked in there for longer than a few minutes. Take your shower, dry off, put something on and open the door! (No one is going to follow this rule, but I tried.)

The former tub stall. We're putting in a shower
base so it will be a large walk-in shower.

Toilet and tile are gone, too.
Drywall will be replaced.

Double sink vanity and two mirrors will go on this wall.

The door on the left will be replaced with drywall
and a door from the bedroom will be here.
Thermostat will be relocated to the hallway.

This tile will likely be next to come up.

The new walk-in closet won't have a sink.

Mark harvested the light bulbs from the other fixtures.
He was about to take these when I insisted that
NO ONE wants these light bulbs, most especially me!

Blogging the bathroom

After a three year blogging sabbatical, I'm back (though maybe not for long). Life is jam packed right now with two adults working full-time, two teenagers, one dog, and more housework to do than available minutes to do it. What does a middle-aged woman do when the stress of every day living becomes too much? She renovates a bathroom.

We chose our house very quickly in spring of 2007. There were many good reasons to choose it, but the bathrooms were not among them. With my agreement to sign on the dotted line for this house came the qualifier that both upstairs bathrooms would be remodeled within a year. We moved in, we acclimated to central Pennsylvania, we got the kids' bathroom remodeled, and learned about local contractors, vendors, and options. I planned to put all this education to good use on the master bath project, but when other unexpected projects came up and finances tightened, those plans got put on hold.

Seven years is a long time to hold a grudge, but this bathroom and I reached a stalemate. I hated it. I hated everything about it. I hated the carpet (who carpets a bathroom?). I hated that you had to walk through the walk-in closet to get to it. I hated the fact that there was a SINK in that closet, but no drawers or cabinets to put things in. I hated when the shower tiles started falling off the walls and we had to put one of those vinyl surround things up on top of them. I hated the clunky vanity cabinets in the bathroom. I hated the salmon-mauve wall color. Finally, I hated that the thermostat for the entire 2nd floor was in there. Yes, in the bathroom, where the temperature can fluctuate by ten degrees when someone takes a shower.

Last fall I put my foot down. No more home improvements get ahead of this bathroom on the to-do list. No roof. No landscaping. Nada. Must ... renovate ... bathroom ... first!

Finally, we are getting the bathroom done. Choosing everything has been stressful, especially when most local showrooms are only open while I'm at work. The internet has been wonderful, except the day when I found out the shower tile AND the vanity were both on backorder. Sales rep Stewart at a tile store in Alabama came through for me. He found my allegedly discontinued bullnose tile and got it delivered here more quickly and cheaply than the local place could, but that's another blog post.

For now, I just want to chronicle the journey.

Entry from the bedroom.

Door to bedroom.

Double bi-fold doors (metal).

The sink, with no cabinetry, but trifold mirror!

The lovely carpet (barf!).
Salmon and beige are not anyone's favorite combination.

The shower, before the tiles fell off.

Shower with vinyl surround to hold up the tiles.

The throne. 

The intercom above the toilet, so you can make household
announcements heard in every room while you're on the throne.

The linen closet interior is painted an icky creamy color.

The original flooring--better or worse than the carpet?

Vanity has no functional drawers.

Lower cabinet doors don't close all the way.

These clunky things are too high to reach and make the room seem smaller!

These are slightly cool vintage fixtures.

The thermostat is between the door and the tub. Fluctuate much?

The kindest way to deal with this bathroom? Put it out of its misery! Demolition day one:

 And so it begins ...

Of tidiness and Tupperware

I am not the tidiest tool in the shed. I'm just not. I'm reasonably organized, I keep my house clean enough, but so often I get distracted and move on to the next thing before I remember to clean up after myself. I don't mind admitting that I have a bit of a clutter problem, and I tend to tackle it in short occasional bursts rather than on an everyday basis.

Today's project was my 2 drawers of plastic storage containers. They were getting problematic because not only could I not close the drawers without a stray lid getting wedged in there, but I certainly couldn't match up a container and lid when I needed them. My friend David recently organized our friend Anne's Tupperware for her while staying in her vacation home and inspired me to tackle this project for myself. (Motivation arrived only after David declined my invitation to drive here and do it for me.)

Just for fun, I thought I would document the process for David, Anne, and other exceptionally tidy friends Jane and Michael.

The first step is admitting that you have a problem.

 

"My name is Margaret, and my Tupperware is cluttered."

The next step, according to David's instructions, is to get everything out on the counter so you can match up containers and lids.

Next, set aside anything you no longer need to keep. (Like my kids would be caught dead with a crazy straw or soccer ball shaped ice pack ... right. And our cat died 3 years ago, but I seem to have cat food can lids.)














Then reload the drawer or cabinet so that everything is organized and visible.

Holy cow ... that bottom drawer seems empty! (And don't tell the tidy people, but I probably don't even need everything I put back in this one.)

Final and most difficult step: throw away the rest, and do NOT park it in your dining room for any reason!

Unravelling Traveling

Oy, the pressure to blog for the new year. I have just returned from a weeklong trip to the midwest. The timing of this annual trip is always difficult. Our schools have classes right up through either Dec. 22 or 23, then come Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with their demands for baking, shopping, wrapping, housecleaning, etc. We bulldoze through large meals and visits with local family, getting a few loads of laundry started before Christmas dinner. On the 26th we leave our Christmas gifts behind and pile into the car (always after lunch because it takes that long to get packed and leave the house presentable enough for petsitters) and drive 8 hours to Grand Rapids, Michigan. We stay there for 3 nights visiting Mark's relatives, then go for another 3 nights in Schaumburg, Illinois including an annual New Year's Eve party hosted by our friends Carl and Karyn. We return just in time to jump back into school and work, and I really don't feel like I experience any sort of winter break.

Every year I say, "This is the LAST year I am doing this trip!", and every July Karyn calls me and asks me if we're coming again for New Year's Eve. I hem and haw and then she says something like, "Your family's visit is the highlight of our family's holiday!" And I sigh with the realization that my reluctance is no match for the importance of this tradition to our 2 families. In keeping with the positive nature with my friends' blogs, I will share the highlights of this year's trip.

First, we always eat at Noodles & Company in Ann Arbor, Michigan on the first day of driving. Consistently delicious, fast, and affordable. Probably even healthy! YUM. O that there was a Noodles & Company in State College ...

On Monday evening Mark's Mom hosted a gathering for his extended family. These are fun. I do especially enjoy catching up with his cousins Carolyn, Betsey, and Martha, as well as the aunts and brothers-in-law.

On Tuesday Betsey took her neice Rachel and I out to lunch while the others went sledding. We went to a fabulous restaurant in East Grand Rapids called Olive's. I had a goat cheese salad with bacon and a maple vinaigrette dressing -- out of this world. Betsey and Carolyn are into jewelry making and they each presented me with a pair of earrings to match something they noticed me wearing. Cousins-in-law don't come better than those 2. :-)

Later I made a trip to my favorite Grand Rapids contemporary furniture store, Design Quest. With unlimited funding I dream of buying two of everything in that store, one for me and one for my Mom. I limited myself to 3 small items as an early birthday present to myself. Later I took Morgan and my neice Skylar to the nail salon, and Skylar got her 1st manicure--an important milestone for every girl. (I know I didn't get one until my 20's, if not my 30's!) We went back to my MIL's that evening for pizza and games. This year we taught Aunt Barb to play Sequence; she and I held our own against John and Betsey!

The next day we drove to the city of Chicago to Brian's favorite restaurant, The Billy Goat Tavern. We ran into a family whose son was a former classmate of Brian's at Aldrin Elementary. Their son had always been the biggest kid in his class, and now Brian towered over him. Very cool that it is still possible to run into people we know in that HUGE city.

Morgan and I squeezed in a visit to the Art Institute of Chicago to see "Sunday Afternoon on La Grande Jatte", the painting by George Seurat which was the inspiration for the musical, "Sunday In The Park With George". Morgan appeared in that musical at Penn State last year and she was BEYOND excited to see the painting in person. We visited the gift shop afterward and more than anything there she wanted to "adopt a dot", which is their current fundraising promotion. Morgan is now the official custodian of one of George Seurat's red dots in the painting we went to see. :-)

We then drove out to Schaumburg so Brian could play in a dodgeball tournament with some of his old friends. They didn't win a single match, but Brian played really well, he was often the last one out. It was a neat way for him to reconnect with his buddies without us making multiple home visits. We got to eat at Portillo's both before AND after the tournament. There is no better chopped salad on earth. I also managed to snag my beloved green tea latte with tapioca from Asia Noodle House.

(Brian is the tall one.)

Thursday we wanted to go with our hosts to the Museum of Science and Industry where they had a special Jim Henson exhibit I was especially looking forward to seeing. When we arrived the main parking garage was full and we were directed to "remote parking". It was getting really remote and we realized if we made the long walk to the museum, that it would be really crowded inside, and the Jim Henson exhibit might even be sold out. We decided to try the Shedd Aquarium instead, but the lines to get in there were out the door and people were standing outside in the drizzle. Plan C was the Field Museum of Natural History, where we had gone last year. Our membership was still valid so we were able to get in at no charge. Apparently Dec. 30th is a HUGE day for museum attendance. That night we got together with Ivan and Shelomi Gomes, who proudly showed us the new Schaumburg Whole Foods grocery store, which I would have LOVED had it been open when we lived there. Morgan played "Wheel of Fortune" on the Wii back at their house with their sons. The Gomes family is so warm and welcoming when we visit.

Friday was Margaret day. I made some connections on my own while Mark took 5 kids to the library and the movies, and Karyn and Carl prepped for the party. When I was in Schaumburg I was part of both a playgroup and "Mom's Night Out" group with a bunch of Moms. For the past 3 years we have met at the same restaurant for lunch on New Year's Eve. It is amazing that those little rugrats we used to complain about potty training are now starting to graduate from high school. These friendships pick up right where they left off, and I do miss laughing with these women. They are the Illinois version of my current "SOS". (I'm hoping someone will e-mail me a photo!)

After lunch my dear friend Leah went to Woodfield Mall with me. I am not the most fun person to shop with; I am very mission-oriented, especially when time is limited. That day's mission was a new purse, and Leah quickly figured out my criteria and price range and was a very good sport about keeping up with my fast and finicky pace. I did find something and I'm so glad, as the previous purse was probably 2 years old and very very shabby looking. Leah also came up with the fantastic idea of finding someone at Nordstrom's to do my makeup in preparation for that night's "Dress Like Your Favorite Rock Star" party. I planned to be Cyndi Lauper, but loved the idea of having somone else give me some authentic glittery 80's eyes. I had never experienced a department store makeup application before, Leah said I lit up as the process evolved. I'm sure I did, who doesn't love a little pampering without financial guilt?

I had initially found the party invitation to be overwhelming; who wants to have to add costume shopping to their holiday to-do list? But I went to the State College Goodwill on Christmas Eve and found some perfectly ridiculous and cheap things for my Cyndi Lauper costume. The party theme turned out to be VERY fun, it made for lots of good conversations and I thoroughly enjoyed romping through the crowd singing "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun". I definitely need to host one of these in State College! Mark went as Phil Collins, Brian as drummer Buddy Rich, and Morgan as Pink.

The evening ended with a rousing adult game of "Catch Phrase" and of course a champagne toast at midnight. We weren't in bed until nearly 3, got 6 hours of sleep, and got up the next morning for the long drive back to Pennsylvania.

In summary, lots of happy moments that make the trip worthwhile, despite the intermittent moments when I long to be cozily relaxing at home in my jammies. Maybe next year, maybe not. :-)

In search of a better fit.

This weekend I have been purging my closets and dressers. I don't think I've thoroughly attempted this job since we moved to my Pennsylvania hometown in spring of 2007. At that time we moved to a new state and also to a whole new phase of life which now bears little resemblance to the one we had in Illinois. Part of that change has resulted in me getting 4 clothing sizes bigger, so when I apply the "get rid of anything you haven't worn in a year" rule, there are a LOT of clothes that aren't getting worn.

Weight is a sensitive issue for most women. I reached an uncomfortable high point 8 years ago when I was dealing with the loss of my brother and also reaching the end of nursing my 2nd child. Sometimes life has to get really bad before it can get better. When my brother died I kind of crawled under an emotional rock for about 6 months until sitting alone in the dark actually got so dreary and boring that I eventually crawled out and looked into the sun again. One thing I did was to join a gym and start working out. It got me out of the house and also put me into contact with new people. One of those people was a personal trainer who looked me in the eye and told me that he could help me lose 30-40 pounds. I thought he was crazy; that would make me weigh less than I did in high school. However I was so desperate for change and improvement that I signed on. That journey is a blog post for another day, but when it was all said and done, a 65-lb. weight loss took place. In the process I became a fitness and healthy eating fanatic. I spent approximately 8 hours a week working out, and became the success story poster child of the gym and the personal training dept. At this point in my life I was not working nor involved in theatre at all, so it became my hobby and passion.

After our move I continued to make fitness a priority for the first two years. However, between needing to go back to work and reviving my passion for theatre, soon there were not enough hours in the week anymore to honor my previous commitment. At this point I admit I am not happy about my current weight and size. People still tell me "you look great" but I think that's more about having a smile and being immersed in things I am passionate about. Going shopping for BIGGER clothes is not nearly as much fun as going shopping for smaller ones.

So, as I purge my closet, I must accept that I probably won't wear those clothes with the smaller numbers ever again. I'm holding on to just a few things that are one size smaller, maybe some kind of miracle will occur and I'll be able to take ten pounds off along the way, but realistically I'd rather someone else got some wear out of these things before they're too far gone fashion-wise. Now that my closet is mostly clothes that I can actually consider wearing, it's not only more spacious but less depressing to look at. I don't need all those reminders of my former figure.

The more I purge my closet, the more I want to purge this entire house of so many things that we realistically won't return to. The kids' toys and books, most specifically. Lately the size of our house has felt overwhelming to me. I don't want to be bothered with yard work anymore and wouldn't mind paying an association fee if someone else would take care of it. Our house in Illinois was smaller and when we moved here I thought, "Finally we have room for all our stuff!" Now I'm thinking, why are we paying a bigger mortgage and higher utility bills to maintain a museum of stuff that we don't use in our daily lives? Sure, it's nice to have room to host a cast party or a kids sleepover or out-of-town guests, but those events take place very few days of the year. Plus whenever they occur, I have to spend an entire week hiding all the stuff that creeps out onto the plentiful surfaces.

A friend just sold his large house that had the PERFECT view of the fireworks in State College. I enjoyed this amenity this past 4th of July and felt so lucky to be told I could have a "permanent invitation" to come back every summer. He and his wife decided the upkeep of the pool and house size were not worth the only occasional enjoyment they (and their large network of friends) got from them, and bought an older house in need of restoration out in the more rural section of town. While I'm sad that my "permanent invitation" only got me one amazing 4th of July, I'm now wondering if I should be following their example. What's the point of all this square footage anyway? Does this house really fit the body of my life anymore?

Much to ponder.

Taking one for the team

This morning Diane suggested that I blog about what it's like to have the lead in a show. There's a lot I could say about that, but I worry that much of it would sound either narcissistic or whiney. Then I went for a walk in the woods with my dog, which is my usual Sunday morning ritual, and ran into someone who had seen me on stage this summer. She said she really enjoyed the State College Community Theatre season, with the exception of "Mrs. McThing". (That's the show I had the lead in.)

This is a person I encountered in the woods approximately two years ago and made small talk with while our dogs tore around a field. In our first conversation she ended up unburdening to me that she had unexpectedly lost her son that fall, and was an emotional mess and overwhelmed with all of the unanswered questions that come with losing someone you love, especially as the holiday season approached. I in turn shared the story of losing my own brother and the effect it had on our family, particularly my Mom. Parents are not supposed to outlive their children, and it's very confusing when they do. A few weeks later I sent her a card and told her I was thinking of her and hoped she was finding some peace. She sent a card in return and was so grateful that I had reached out to her ... it was one of those "pay it forward" moments which made me feel good about myself for being a comfort to someone in grief, as I had relied on my own band of angels when I went through something similar.

Fast forward two years ... this morning I saw her ahead on the path and thought, "Oh, haven't seen her in a long time, wonder if we'll have another deep conversation today?" As it turned out, we did not. We talked about theatre, specifically the quirky show I was in. I had my own misgivings about accepting the lead in "Mrs. McThing". It was the underdog show of the season, a last-minute addition made without enough information, and without time to consider alternatives. After the show was added to the season slate, I ordered a used copy of the script and read it in the car en route to Chicago. I had two thoughts: First, "Why did we choose this show?", and second, "Why is there suddenly a giant arrow dangling over my head that says, "Mrs. Howard V. LaRue III"? Months before auditions I knew that this was one quirky, dated script, and also that I was a darn good fit for the lead character, a presumptuous, disapproving mother.

I tried to get cast in a different show that would overlap with Mrs. McThing so that I wouldn't have to make myself available for it, but that didn't work. I seriously asked myself if I wanted to check the box for that show on the audition form, or to limit myself to the more popular shows, even if it meant a smaller or chorus role. In the end I decided to let fate play it's own hand, made myself available for five shows, and declined to rank preferences. My strategy was to get the best possible opportunity the directors could offer. To no one's surprise, I was offered the lead in Mrs. McThing.

It's been a long time since I had a real lead. I'm entirely comfortable being cast in an ensemble with a manageable number of lines and plenty of time for offstage cavorting. However, the road back to theatre since college has been a long one and thought I was ready to take on the challenge. Making the long story of the rehearsal process short, it was a difficult time of year for me to be the lead. I missed blocking rehearsals because I needed to attend my own kids' spring performances. I was working more than I ever had while being in rehearsal for a show, and found I had precious little time to drill lines the way I needed to. I tried and tried and tried but despite my best efforts the lines weren't sticking, largely because so many of them didn't make any sense. I put out a call for help on Facebook for people to run lines with me in the final weekend before tech, and help me they did. I saw Morgan's class perform in her dance recital but ducked out of the auditorium to spend the rest of it sitting in a courtyard running lines with my iPod. My character had over 200 lines, many of them long. Here is a typical excerpt:

"I can't keep her here. I'm afraid of her mother. Oh, Howay-if he had her here-Mrs. McThing would be sure to come around. I can't fact that. No-no-don't sulk. Howay-I man no. Mimi-it's a beautiful place-you'll have a pony like Howay's-a bicycle-swimming pool-dancing lessons-they'll all be so kind to you, dear-oh-let me show you a picture of Miss Finchcroft, the founder."

Lines are easier to memorize when they are somehow sequential, when they tell a story or banter back and forth in response to another character. Mrs. LaRue just rambled on to herself in broken, often repetitive phrases. Even though it didn't matter to the audience if I said them verbatim, my cast mates relied on me to deliver their cues in order, and I couldn't consistently deliver. Tech week was VERY stressful. In addition to not feeling secure about my lines, we got derailed with lighting problems that short changed us on the traditional full run-throughs we needed. At our first tech rehearsal I had no costumes to work with. My friend Drew, the show photographer, has witnessed many tech rehearsals at the Boal Barn, and confirmed that ours was the worst tech rehearsal on record. Not all of the problems were within my control, but many were. I was petrified of performing for a paying audience with the potential to disappoint them, my castmates, the organization of which I am an executive Board member, and most of all myself. Clearly I had taken on too much. To play the lead in a show that is a flop is no honor.

As often happens in non-professional theatre, somehow everything came together. The dress rehearsal was rough with it's fair share of pregnant pauses and improvisation of lines, but we definitely had some momentum to work with by opening night. Costumes appeared, and I planted index cards with my challenging lines in backstage corners so that I could cram them into short-term memory before making entrances. The theatre family gelled; there was no animosity backstage, and that is really quite unusual with a large cast. We were all supportive of each other and laughed at our onstage foibles. We started to love our quirky little show and had a lot of fun with Facebook statii about the play, particularly inserting the prefix "Mc" before any and everything ... McNap, McBarn, McShow, etc. While the audience consensus was that the final five minutes of the show were hard to follow, they enjoyed our characterizations and efforts to take the inherent silliness of the show over the top. While Mrs. McThing didn't send anyone home with a profound new insight about anything, I hope it was entertaining. I learned much about myself as an actress, and many good friendships blossomed. The cast party, which I hosted, was a hoot. We actually got a phone call from one of my neighbors because we were laughing too loudly around my dining room table while playing a game called "True Colors" with the windows open. Great times.

Having the lead in a show isn't about glory. It's about challenge, dependency, disappointment, vulnerability, and fear. This time it was also about fun, and being cast as a character not too different from who I am every day who sweats the small stuff and wishes the world would raise it's bar up to her own personal standards. State College Community Theatre needed a Mrs. Howard V. LaRue III, and I needed a challenge, and preparation met opportunity. I don't aspire to always be the actress who gets to take the final bow during curtain call, but this time I think I earned it.

Fine. You win, ladies.

Those who know me well will laugh when I admit that I really don't like to be outdone. This week it seems like I am surrounded by BLOGGERS. Every time I turn around someone's posting eloquent insights about their life. I don't want to blog! I want my insights to be private or shared selectively! But I also don't want to be left behind while everyone else embarks on a new adventure without me. Hmph.

Diane says I don't have to blog about personal things, she has a friend who blogs about vegan recipes. Even the topic of vegan recipes makes me insecure, because I'm not a Mom who puts much thought into what's for dinner. At one time in my life I subscribed to cooking magazines and saved the food section of the Chicago Tribune to clip the recipes. Since returning to the workforce, that has moved way way down to the bottom of my priority list. There are about 8 things I could make for dinner that my kids both like that don't take much effort from me with time or ingredients. Tonight I outdid myself by making frozen potstickers and shrimp fried rice. (By the way, I make my rice from scratch, with boiling water and everything. And not that Minute Rice or boil-in-a-bag, either. Jasmine rice. Tonight I even added chopped scallions.) My daughter was elated, but my son got braces just yesterday and had a hard time chewing his shrimp. However, they both seemed to appreciate one of their favorite meals.

I really do believe in the concepts of healthy eating, meal planning, and frugal shopping. I admire my friend Mala who raised two sons who love vegetables more than junk food. Joanne has her week's meals listed on her fridge. Amanda B. regularly boasts that the grocery store had to pay her to leave after she redeemed her coupons. I admire those families who make dinner a non-negotiable time for gathering and sharing news of the day. I admire my grandmother who used her china regularly and made every meal a multi-course affair. She would serve us each our own individually molded jello salad on a lettuce leaf ... I would never sacrifice a perfectly good head of lettuce just for visual presentation of fruited jello.

Truth be told, neither my husband nor I grew up with ritual mealtimes, which I'm sure has a lot to do with the loosey-goosey informal meals we serve. My kids do not get napkin rings or individually molded jellos, but they seldom have to fend for themselves. Of course they can make their own grilled cheese sandwiches, ramen soup, pancakes, and scrambled eggs, but they consistently know that one or the other parent has thought about dinner and made sure there was a plan of some kind, even if it was frozen pizza. Not all children are so lucky.

They are fed. They are loved. It is good enough.