After harping at my daughter all weekend long to get her room clean, she finally managed it Sunday night before bedtime. By then I think she finally understood that if she didn’t get it done herself, Mama was going to “clean” it Monday while she was at school…meaning she’d have a lot less crap in her room when she got home. They never want Mama to clean their rooms.
I told her Monday morning that I would just go in a straighten things up a little, since she got most everything put away on her own. And I did. Put play sets together, collected the hundreds of dolls, outfits, and shoes scattered in different places…and then went to put stuff in her closet.
I started to pull out the large plastic boxes to put stuff inside. One holds all her dishes, kitchen, and food sets; the other holds her huge collection of dress up clothes and purses. (She is her mother’s child, after all.)
I just managed to yank my hand out from under the bottom shelf before it collapsed on top of the plastic box lid. I pushed some of her clothes to the side to see what happened, and realized the whole shelving system (already installed when we bought the house) had pulled out of the wall…the only thing holding it up at all now was the plastic boxes. I knew I couldn’t fix it on my own, so I closed the closet up, put a bunch of stuff in front of it to remind my daughter to NOT open it until her daddy could fix it, and left it alone for a while. I’m just glad this happened when I was in there, and not her.
JB stopped by Lowe’s on the way home and picked up some stuff to fix it. After we finished dinner, he got to work on it. Using the stud finder, he saw that the guy who installed the shelves had marked the studs, yet missed them totally when he drilled the shelves in. Not only that, he used no anchors at all, just put it directly into the sheet rock. I’m surprised the shelves hadn’t fallen sooner.
It’s just another example of the shoddy work the people who lived here before us did in this house. I have realized now, that when we found this house in August, we I had blinders on. I saw a decent house that we could afford while I stayed home a while; I saw a chance to hurry the process up so that my family could be together again instead of living in two different cities; I saw the better of the 60 houses we toured in the span of two days. We jumped on it.
It took me a while, but once the boxes were unpacked and I could settle down and look around, I started seeing everything that I didn’t before. The tile floor is something I loathe, especially in the living room. I can handle it in the kitchen and laundry room, if it was a prettier tile. We hope to eventually change that. None of the windows have moldings. Not big in the grand scheme of things, and I didn’t notice it before because they had curtains up, but to me the rooms don’t look “done” without that little detail. The painting was just plain awful, garish colors, flat dull paint, and messy spots. Yeah, that can be fixed, and we are in the process but it’s slow. The privacy fence that I was happy to get? Yeah, Handyman Wannabe built it himself, it sags, isn’t really finished, and only He-Man can push open the gates. The pretty white hutch/pantry that’s built into the kitchen? Yeah, it’s pretty to look at, and it functions well as a pantry…but several times the doors have literally fallen off in my hands. It’s MDF and yet again, Handyman Wannabe didn’t build it very solidly. The list just goes on.
Thankfully, my husband is very good at building and fixing things. I can’t even begin to list all the things he worked on at our previous home, but stuff he builds lasts and is sturdy. He built both of our children’s first big kid beds, and our daughter still sleeps in hers. So I know that eventually, this place will be up to “our code”. We knew that moving into a “not brand new” home like we lived in before there would likely be some things we’d have to work on, but this is getting ridiculous!
We never intended to spend forever in this house, and we knew that going in…this is just a transitional place for us until we know more about this city and just where we want to be. I still don’t know enough about this place to know exactly which neighborhoods I want to one day live in, but you can bet the next time I tour houses, the realtor is going to think I’ve lost it…I’m going to go over each house with a fine toothed comb. I’m gonna nitpick, darn it.