My longest post ever. In inches.

I warned you in advance.

We have been busy. And not because I'm working (although I am, very hard) or because I'm pregnant (which I am not, sadly), but because we have Finally. Finished. Our house.

I'm out of breath just thinking about it.

It's been a project two years in the making. And to be honest, it's not completely finished. I mean, most of the doors have to be painted, and we have doorknobs to install, but for my own mental health, I shall say, the work is done.

It started in 2007.

Before we even moved in to the house in Carlsbad, Brad and his mom and his dad scraped our popcorn ceilings, and painted the disgusting fireplace, and painted the bedrooms... which made things not so scary when I finally saw it.

I was six months pregnant with Claire. And I was nesting. Hard core. I have pictures to prove it. Lots of them. You get to see them. This is where you cheer.


I really wanted to paint that house soon. Like, the next week. Brad told me that I needed to start sanding down parts of the walls where the texture was too thick.


So, I did.

And I found wet spots.

That turned out to be mold.

In the laundry room.

Under the bathroom sink.
In both showers.
[This is from the hall bathroom looking through the wall into the master bathroom.]


Ew.

We replaced studs. Drywall. We green-boarded/hardi-backed/redguarded EVERYTHING in those bathrooms. It could rain in there. Everyday. It would be safe.


So we didn't get to paint that week.

Then we ripped out the utility carpet (this nasty brown, thin, yucky stuff) in the hallway. It was in the whole house. But we started with the hallway. And then we tore up three layers of linoleum tile in the kitchen. It required a machine. (Believe me. I am a cheapskate. I tried REALLY hard to rip that stuff off by hand.)

See? That's Brad. He's practically horizontal.

And then my special, ultra-fun job was to use a cat's paw to tear out all the baseboard and carpet tacks in that HUGE area to prep the house for tile.


And then we tiled the hallway, bathrooms, and kitchen.
[I did that whole big long row all by myself. My very big pregnant self.]


And then Brad installed awesome shelves in our closets. Because we didn't have dressers and we were still living out of suitcases.


And then, the week before Claire was blessed, the Nevilles helped us rip out nasty utility carpet in the living room/dining room, and we tiled in there.


And then conference weekend, Brad poured the slab between our house and the garage to begin our addition for an entryway/study nook.


And then Brad framed, and stuccoed, and roofed (mostly with his dad, although my dad, and my brothers helped on the roof), and he electrified the addition, and drywalled, and mudded, and...


...then we decided to move.


So we worked like crazy people and with my brother Jay's help we: installed new windows, mudded some more, textured, installed lighting fixtures, installed base, puttied the nail holes in the base (my job), taped every cranny for painting prep (again, my fun, exclusive responsibility) painted (finally) the walls three different colors (midnight blue, pea green, and periwinkle--all Brad's choices) before I finally went to the paint store with him and we settled on a lovely beige (which he thinks is too pink, but it's better than purple).


And then we moved to Dallas and friends rented our house.


And then they moved out, and we painted the base and we installed some six panel doors, and we ripped out all the rest of the nasty utility carpet in the bedrooms and installed beautiful carpet, and put in new front and back doors, and painted the outside of the house (the orange color was all Brad), and landscaped, and installed exterior light fixtures, and ALMOST put in the closet doors. We'll do that next time.


Whew.


And now our friends will move back in. Because they decided to move back to Carlsbad. And we decided not to sell our house. Because who can just sell something that has asked for so much sweat and blood?


Below are some before and after pics for your viewing pleasure. (You're going to have to click on each picture to get the full effect. And in some cases, to see the "after.")

Fireplace, Dining Room/Living Room:

Kitchen, from Dining Area:

Living/Dining Area, Hallway, Kitchen:
Original Entry, New entry, garage door, study nook:
Hall Bathroom:


Master Bed and Bath:
Bedroom #2 (Bedroom #3 is similar... pretend I put in a picture)
Laundry area/Back door:
Congratulations to us! Right?

We do not watch TLC. Promise.

I got a call last weekend while I was with Brad in Carlsbad painting the trim in our house. [About that house: it's old, not new, we've owned it two years, lived in it for one, we're selling it, and I'm sad about it. Hmph.]

It was my little sister Karlee. She started, "Elise, you'll never guess what Grace and Claire were playing a minute ago."

It's true. I never would have guessed.

I'll spare you the details.

It involved a blanket, a baby doll, and Grace coaching, "Okay, Claire! Give birth! Give birth!"

I. am. in. trouble.

Caretaker

I didn't have any pets growing up. Although we went through occasional bouts of begging, my parents never seriously considered getting us even a fish. (No use even thinking about a dog.) We were taught to appreciate wildlife from a distance--specifically from behind the fence at the zoo. 

Not Brad.

So when my parents accidentally acquired an albino lizard, Brad was designated its temporary caretaker. (I don't know how you accidentally acquire an exotic reptile. Leave it to my parents.) 

At the time, it lived in this.

This was apparently unsuitable.

So Brad produced a temporary terrarium from a giant Rubbermaid bin, tile, rocks, bricks, and a pseudo-heat lamp.

He bought--and caught--live grasshoppers for the lizard's eating pleasure.

He even took it on walks. 

(Okay. They weren't strictly walks. Brad just set the lizard out in the grass and let him run around. But the mental image of Brad walking a leashed lizard is so much more amusing.)

I am thinking about this now because Brad is gone, taking care of our house. 

And I am feeling like a sunshine-less, grasshopper-less lizard. I am missing him taking care of me.

False Advertising.

Do these look the same to you?

To the person who stole my phone...

I'll give you 200 bucks if you'll give it back. (Which is more than it'll go for on ebay, by the way.)

Stunned Still

Few things shock me into wondering silence like lightening.

One of those few things is fireworks.

And last Saturday it just so happened that God and man collaborated to brighten the sky.

Most of the guests at the Volpato's 4th of July party ran for cover.

I couldn't follow them inside. Although the earth rumbled, I was stuck. Glued to the ground. Looking up.

Claire rested on my hip.

We watched until we were drenched.

Stochasticity

Does anybody listen to RadioLab? Well, you should. It's the best. Last week's segment discussed randomness.

Which is pretty random.

Because last weekend Brad and I went to a movie theater we'd never been to before to see Transformers in a nearly sold-out room, and almost had to sit apart until a nice group of "kids" scooted over for us. ["Kids" is in quotes because I think they were probably no younger than me. But they looked young. And they seemed careless and free. Which means that can't possibly be adults.]

And they started chatting with us. Which doesn't happen to me very often.

And. They were from Carlsbad, NM. My favorite town. Population: 30,000. Distance from movie theater in question: over 500 miles.

We caught up on the local gossip as if we were old friends.

Random, no?