“So…” you might ask. “What’s it like renovating a kitchen while having three kids aged four and under, including a newborn?” 

July 30^th. That sums it up. 

July 30^th is the first day I swung a golf club this summer.

The kitchen is more or less done. The heart of the home now beats vibrantly again. Our old kitchen was due for a makeover. 

The countertop was coming apart. The cabinets were loaded with grease and losing their stain. The floor had several spots that were worn and not salvageable. And this weird little nook was, um, well you can see.

Time to get to work.

Despite a few quick projects, I more or less began the kitchen after Becca’s parents left from a visit, about a week into July. I think I would have finished 10 days earlier had Becca and I not had 3 little kids to deal with. Emilie started fussing quite a bit. And the boys, seeing change right before their eyes, fell apart frequently. "Sooo much chaaaaange!!! Waaahhh!"

 While Grandpa Bear was still here he helped remove the doors.

Me scrubbing and TSPing the doors. Seems like forever since I did this.

 

One morning Joseph went off to swimming lessons. Hehehe, it was John Paul and my time to smash some stuff!

More work.

 At two different points I kicked Becca and the kids out. To paint and to do flooring. They went to Grandma and Grandpa’s house in Nipawin. It was amazing how much work I could accomplish without having to run and wipe a poop, pick up a crying baby, or put tools away so that little kids wouldn’t play with them.

 

Me in the basement. It's funny how renovating one room can disrupt the entire house. The basement was a mess. The office was a mess. The kitchen, of course, was a mess. At one point we had appliances and a table in our living room. The bathroom seldom got cleaned. The outside patio still has a table saw on it... The only room untouched was the basement bathroom.

It turns out Joseph's favourite thing in the world to do is stain wood. He wouldn't stop talking about how much he loved it.

 

Slowly some progress. At this point I kicked the family out to do the flooring. Vinyl tile flooring. Holy moly what a lot of knee-breaking work. It took about 30 hours to complete (including the grouting). But with the kids gone I was able to complete it in less than two days.

One last thing before the reveal. You need the right tools for the job. One benefit of doing a major reno every summer is that I slowly get to build up my tool collection. Here is my Makita line of tools. 

They are amazing. We needed an air compressor. Becca let me get the nail gun that goes with it. I love it! The unsung hero of the reno was actually the palm sander. Though all of my tools were put to good use.

Enough of this. Time for the reveal....

THE REVEAL:

You like? That's what a million dollar kitchen apparently looks like. Now for an updated kitchen at around 1/250th that price...

Subway tile backsplash. Never goes out of style. Oh, and new GFCI outlets. Cause in 1963 they didn't have much for code. Not that anyone's been electrocuted here because of it. At least as far as I know.

 
Joseph also loves tiling. I was working away and he asked if he could do some. I put a bit of adhesive on some wood and left him to it. Pretty good! I wouldn't mind hanging this on the wall. Would you like one too? That'll be $50! Gotta pay for the reno somehow.




A decorative pot rack. Made from an old iron piece that a farmer friend had. Not quite a farmhouse kitchen, but we don't mind showcasing some farm roots.

A custom pantry. Mainly with some MDF, laminated pine, paint and hardware. We saved a bunch of $ with this. Becca says to tell you that it looks way better in real life. Much better than what was there.





Our floor. Oh my. The best part is, the floor is actually disgustingly filthy at the moment, and you can't tell!



New water jug. The boys are having a blast filling up cups. Hey, whatever gets them to drink more water. 

Final Thoughts

- Don't like your kitchen? Buy some TSP cleaning product and scrub away. You'd almost swear we had new appliances.

- As mentioned earlier, the boys were a mess for a good chunk of this reno. Yesterday Becca was sick and I simply decided to not work on anything. When they clued in that I was just going to hang out with them it was if a switch went off.  From Evil to Good.

- We're not done yet. I need to build a little spice rack. And a little pull out island to go next to the stove. And buy some items such as a new toaster. And actually tile the entrance (and paint it) since I have some left over tile anyway (and the entrance looks yucky).

- My favourite part? Besides that it is more or less done? Definitely that it's opened up. That one cabinet is gone. Becca and I can't get over that we can cook food and still talk with the people at the table. And it feels like we have way more counter space too, now that we don't have to duck our heads under a cabinet.

All in all, the kitchen is more or less done. Thank you Saint Joseph.

Approved by the chef. And her soon to be helper.

Approved by the eaters too.

Now to go golfing...

Home Home Home

When I was at OLSWA as a student we geekishly created and used a system for talking about "home." When talking about our student residences we used the word "home." Example: I'm going home to eat a pound of bacon that I bought on sale, I'll see you at supper in an hour." When talking about our home where we came from we used the term "home home." Example: "I'm going home home this weekend to get my laundry done for me and to eat bacon and cheese."

Yet there was another home we added. Being well versed in Aristotilean influenced Thomism, we reverently spoke about our true home. Our final destination. Thus we stated the thrice holy: "home home home," when speaking about heaven. Example: "I'll bet there is all you can have bacon, cheese, and chocolate milk for those who go to home home home."

I was thinking about this on the weekend. You see, this past weekend was, for me, the official start to my summer projects. I spent time putting in a new outdoor tap, covering an electrical outlet, patching holes on an overhead shade structure, and moving rock while preparing our garden. It felt good. I honestly didn't want to come to work on Tuesday *gasp*. And throughout the work Becca and I discussed a potential new project: a kitchen renovation. While the idea is barely on my radar at the moment (I have more than enough to keep me busy this summer), Becca is a little more enthusiastic towards such a reno this summer. So she can look into things, for now.

But it's amazing to me to see how we can so quickly get consumed into thoughts about our home. Everything from colours to concrete, flooring to fixtures, quickly becomes a topic to thoroughly discuss. Becca and I are further the type that any talk about hardware on a door quickly balloons into talk about colour of cabinets and walls, to entire house colours, to when to sell the place, to where to live, to eventually discussing our entire life plan, retirement, and even whether or not ISIS will come after us before then. Eventually I find myself lying huddled on the ground sobbing and moaning: "it's just a paint colour..."

In the end, though, I think we lose track a bit. Our entire life plan is not around our home, or home home. It should be around the thrice holy home, heaven. Preparation on a home is important, especially when looking at eventually selling in a very difficult and unforgiving Tisdale real estate market. But it's not heaven. Nor is it anymore than a blink of the eye in comparison to heaven. Jesus won't care about the quality of our flooring, but he will care how I treated my sons as they got in my way "to help" as I laboured at putting that flooring in. He might not care about how I spent time sorting through mixed up rocks (red versus blue), but at whether or not I offered that simple labour up. And that amazing centre piece photo collection on the wall, that was planned and produced with attention to every detail, means nothing next to the crucifix up on the wall next to it. The home is but a sign of our heavenly home. A mere shadow. May our house be called a house of prayer. In the end, the work I do on our home really should be contributing towards the heavenly home, the only that matters.

May Our Lord say to us all some day: "Welcome Home Home Home, my faithful servant"

Points to Ponder: Christmas Break Edition

Two weeks off, and I haven't blogged! Lucky you guys. Well, to make it up, here's a Points to Ponder: Christmas Break Edition.

1) New Year - Same Boring Self

I think Becca and I stayed up until 10pm last night. I sort of shudder to think about when the boys are older, and whether or not they will want to stay up to ring in the new year. That'll be tough on us old parents! But then I learned from someone last night that Netflix has it so that you can play a New Year's celebration at anytime, thus fooling your kids while at the same time allowing you to go to bed earlier.

2) Family Ties

We made it out to Mass last night. I was super tired and ready to go in my pajamas, but Joseph insisted that he was going to wear a tie for the feast of Momma Mary. So what could I do but join him!

I think Joseph's tie made him behave better too. He was so well behaved and attentive at Mass, especially considering it was at 7pm.

3) Sick 

We were actually supposed to sing in Nipawin last night. But there's been a bad flu going around the Millette house there. Needless to say, I don't like having to hold a little boy while he's throwing up and crying out in pain. So we've been hanging out in Tisdale. 

It's too bad. I sure do miss living out of town. Everything is so much nicer out in the country. Why, here's a shot from a walk I took at dusk. That's John Paul with me. He had just fallen over, and couldn't move. I don't think I noticed for a while.

4) Mystery Thriller!

Since we've been in Tisdale it's given me time to do some prep for school. I read a thrilling mystery novel in preparation for a novel study. The book is "The Mystery of the Turtle Lake Monster." It's set in Saskatchewan. Wow, what a great book!

*cough*

Ok, I forgot just how poorly written children's novels are. But I did figure something out. I've been berating my students for writing unnecessary details when working on narratives. However, I know where they get it now. Children's novels are full of unnecessary and boring details.


5) Rehab Attic

I also was able to get up into our attic to add some insulation around the bedroom ceiling corners. I had to be extra careful, however. Our attic has a few inches of vermiculite at the bottom of the added blow-in cellulose. Vermiculite, if it comes from Quebec, contains asbestos. I'm pretty sure the vermiculite used here would've come from Western Canada, but one must always be careful.

6) On Moving Furniture: A Theological Reflection

When I was growing up in Nipawin we had this old messed up priest (sorry, but he was, God rest his soul) come in for one year. Oddly enough, it was the same year that we attended Mass in the community of Zenon Park. He was the same priest who previously destroyed any faith in Tisdale while he was here.

The first thing he did was move all the "furniture" in the sanctuary. Now the Lord did work through this priest, because he actually moved the tabernacle back to the sanctuary, and it has been there ever since. But the most noticeable thing he did was move the altar, or as liberals call "table", right to the side of the wall. He then moved his chair smack in the centre of the sanctuary. I mean, there was his chair. Just smack dab right there in the middle. If you wanted to kneel to Jesus, you had to go through him first! Totally bizarre. What made it worse was that his eyes were such that they appeared to always be looking at you, no matter where you are. Even his photograph was like that. Anyway, I still remember the explanation he gave the parish, "Sometimes in your house you just need to move furniture around. That's what I've done here."

Now I've always know that theologically the priest was dead wrong. The Church teaches us how to worship properly. This comes from God himself (e.g. book of Exodus), and centuries of organic development and practice.

But now that I own my own home, I also know the priest is dead wrong in his home-sense explanation. No! We don't just move around furniture willy nilly. Furniture placement must make sense (unlike his church furniture placement)!

For instance, after we painted our wall I knew it was time for our room to make sense. So we moved couches around, shelves, and even our T.V. The point was to have the room makes be functional (and aesthetically pleasing). Now people can sit on different couches and see each other and hold an actual conversation! They also can see the T.V. comfortably if needed.

To do so I actually had to run a new satellite cable across the room. See our trim here? Look closely, the top part of the trim is actually a cable, glued to the wall. Weird, I know. But it works.

We even have a little music section!

Ahh yes, moving furniture. Only an ___________ would do it for no reason. Ok, obviously this priest had some underlying theological reasons for doing what he did (i.e. more attention to the "presider"... I hate that term... "presider"... it detracts from the fact that the Mass is a sacrifice). But he was in a parish where the majority have no backbone, and so he got what he wanted... until he left.


7) New Year Greetings

Have a blessed new year! Thank you for making this blog the number one Millette Family Blog in the world (the other Millette Family Blog, some people from Utah, haven't posted in four years...). And remember:

You Have to Want to Go Home

My basic rule of thumb with work is to show up, work, and go home.

I know I know, the start of another boring blog post. What next? I like bread on my sandwiches? Latin in my liturgy? Football on TV? But hear me out. I go to work, I work, and I go home. During recess breaks if I don't have supervision I do some marking or planning. After school I work diligently until I finish what needs to be done, and then I go home. I chat with the other guys there, but usually while in the midst of an extra-curricular event.

To be honest, I'm not sure why I race through my work so that I can rush home. Normally when I get home, at the minimum, I am promptly put in charge of the two boys until supper is made. Sometimes I am put in charge of one boy and supper. In rare cases I am put in charge of both boys and supper, while some crisis gets mopped up by Becca. When I get home, my work day is usually just beginning.

That is a purely economical way of looking at it. The reality is that what awaits me is usually a smile from a 3 year old. He runs up, smiles, and promptly finishes a conversation that has already been racing in his head for a while. I always look forward to what his first words to me will be. I'll hear the likes of "let's go see my bunkbeds," "I got stuck in the ditch," "we crashed," and even "do you want to come die with me?" Then I see John Paul. It's always the same with him. He's drooling away, looks up, recognizes me, and starting laughing and smiling hysterically. Some days if I'm lucky he'll smile so much that he farts. Oh yeah, and seeing my little wife also is alright too. Especially on those days when supper is all finished. But also on the days when it is not. It's a tiring life we lead, but one we cherish and wouldn't trade for anything. I like to come home.

So this past Friday afternoon after school me-the-hero-who-deserves-a-cookie was in the computer lab at work. One of the things I do at school is help out with the tech issues. I was putting 25 new laptops into a new laptop cart. It was tedious and time-consuming work, and required me to fiddle around with cords and reach into tiny areas for each and every laptop. The lab was extremely hot, and smelled like grade 5ers after a long day of exercise, sweat, and Axe body spray. I was working as quickly as I could. My motivation was to go home (where I was promptly charged with making supper and looking after Joseph).

The entire time in the lab I heard the sound of women talking. Shocking news considering I work at an elementary school. But for over an hour I heard women talking. Non-stop talking. Just chatting kind of talking. A regular occurrence to be sure, but it struck as being out of place as I sweated away in that lab. You know, if people want to waste time at work and chat then that's up to them. So long as we're not paid by the hour, I don't care. Yet what disturbed me is that the sound of talking came from women who all had kids in daycare at that moment. Now I know we all need a break from our kids to relax every now and then. And I know these women love their kids dearly. I'm not judging them. So stop judging me by thinking I'm judging them. Sinner. Still though... you have to want to go home. Do you not? Despite the work, and the tantrums, and the lack of glory... you have to want to go home.

Yes, you have to want it.

Here's to home!