This 'n that with the Darwins

For those of you keeping score at home, today is one month from Baby Boy Darwin's due date. I've been going through a spurt of nesting energy (powered, no doubt, by Friday's impending 36-week deadline for having homebirth supplies in order). After five years here, we've replaced the disintegrating blinds in our bedroom. I've changed the a/c filters and vacuumed the fan blades, scrubbed the shower, and am eyeing the weekend sales for new towels. I have a washed stack of baby boy clothes that have nowhere to go. My baby shower is next weekend.

Oh, and after three fruitless attempts with the parish secretary, I finally went straight to Father, who had no problem in assuring me that we could count on our baptismal date. Lesson learned: following the rules is for schnooks; the only way to get things done is to pull strings. And for those who are feeling impeded, here are the relevant excerpts from canon law and the Catechism (my emphasis):

Can. 867 §1. Parents are obliged to take care that infants are baptized in the first few weeks; as soon as possible after the birth or even before it, they are to go to the pastor to request the sacrament for their child and to be prepared properly for it. (To the pastor, note; not to the secretary.)

1250 Born with a fallen human nature and tainted by original sin, children also have need of the new birth in Baptism to be freed from the power of darkness and brought into the realm of the freedom of the children of God, to which all men are called.⁵⁰ The sheer gratuitousness of the grace of salvation is particularly manifest in infant Baptism. The Church and the parents would deny a child the priceless grace of becoming a child of God were they not to confer Baptism shortly after birth.⁵¹

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The floor is also finished, and I'd love to post pictures except that in all the chaos we lost the cord to the digital camera. There are still some fiddly bits of trim to be nailed up, caulked, and painted (which means that there's still a stack of molding sitting on the living room floor), but overall, the house is getting back to usable condition. There's still some assorted furniture in random places. However, the important thing is that we have the couch back. One of the unexpectedly difficult parts of the flooring process was having nowhere to sit. And our books are slowly being reshelved, which means the bookcases look settled again and we can reclaim the bedroom floor space that the boxes occupied.

We've had a lot of people tell us, "Oh, we're thinking about putting down hardwood floor one day too!" Overall, we're quite glad we did it ourselves as we must have saved at least $4000 in labor costs, but here are some considerations for those thinking about undertaking the process.

1) How great a tolerance do you have for chaos? I don't mean clutter or even mess; I mean the house torn up for weeks on end, nothing accessible or where it should be, the dust and debris tracked all over, the bones of the house exposed. If you're one of those people who don't like their routine disrupted, this is not a job for you.

2) How well do you and your spouse work together? Darwin and I make a good team and find that we prefer to work on a huge job like this with each other rather than with outside help. We also don't carp and snipe at each other. However, if you and your spouse have even a mild tendency to pettiness, snapping, making biting remarks at each other's expense, or get moody, then don't jeopardize your marriage by throwing yourselves into a huge home renovation project from which you can't escape.

3) What about the children? Although our marriage didn't suffer, we did feel like our parenting slipped several notches. Although we tried to let the girls help with little tasks at their level, we were nervous and short-tempered with them underfoot. Although we had several generous friends take the girls for stretches, this kind of job goes much faster without the small fry getting into things. (Let's not even talk about my fears over the nail gun.) As neither of us have family living within a thousand miles, this was a more difficult and time-consuming job than it would have been with dedicated baby-sitting. Fortunately, the children are resilient and will probably remember this as a fun time when they got to play with scraps of wood and tear up the carpets with impunity.

4) Are you pregnant? Hey, I did my fair share, but moving around grew increasingly difficult -- not to mention the contraction scare at 30 weeks... The difficulty is not necessarily in getting down and doing the work, it's in getting up again. Some of my finishing work that involves dragging myself along the floor (caulking, painting) is looking rather onerous to me right now.

But! Although the floor ate our summer, we have a floor! And it looks pretty darn good. And I'd post pictures, but I can't find the cord to the camera...

I Dream of Craigslist

About ten years ago, I went into the Mission in Steubenville, OH, looking for a desk. I had the budget of a college student supporting herself on a minimum-wage campus job, and the tastes of the yuppie demographic specifically targeted by Pottery Barn. The Mission was (and still is, for all I know) a second-hand store that rambled all the gutted shell of a once-ornate Victorian manse -- perhaps in reflection of the decline of the Steubenville area, which once had one of the highest per-capita incomes in the country in the grand days of steel and the mob. Styles were changing in the Ohio River Valley, and the Mission was jam-packed with stuff people had cleared out of grandma's sitting room or attic. Unfortunately, even at fire-sale prices most of the elegant pieces were well out of my reach, but I did find a cute little corner desk with an old fashioned drawer handle and a veneer top on which I could and did set drinks.

The corner desk held up fairly well over the years, but with the advent of small children who would sit and kick it while watching a movie on the computer, it became time for something more sturdy. However, second-hand stores are passe now with the redecorating crew. If you want to buy used, you've got to turn to the local Craigslist.

Spending a few days scouring Craigslist reveals much about your own tastes. I've found that I will almost automatically click on any listing (regardless of item for sale) which contains the following terms:

• vintage (this one is often disappointing -- people try to foist their burnt-orange 70s-era couches on innocent buyers by labeling them "vintage")
  
• antique
• solid wood
• green (the color, not the environmental designation)
• armoire (unless designated as pine)
• Pottery Barn (yes, I'm a sucker)
• victorian
• craftsman
• queen sleigh bed (in honor of the bed that the roach destroyed, still not replaced)
  

Terms that repel me:

• southwestern
• rustic
• pine
• Eurway (ultra-svelte modern is not my style, it seems)
• IKEA
• plaid

When designations coincide -- "Solid wood pine plaid victorian couch from IKEA!!!" -- I skip it. The seller is obviously crazy.

I also skip any ad without a picture. It boggles the mind how anyone thinks they're going to sell a $700 dining room set without providing an image for the prospective purchaser to consider. What am I, crazy? I'm not even looking for a dining room set, and it annoys me.

As it happens, Craigslist provided us with a desk: a old teacher's desk remaindered by the Boston public school system, and as sturdy as you like. It was a bit battered, but Darwin sanded it down and refinished it, and I scrubbed the drawer handles with steel wool until they shone. It looks pretty fine, and I'll put up a picture if I can ever find the cable for the digital camera.

And I have a corner desk, medium honey tone with veneer top, one leg kinda wobbly but still works okay, if anyone's interested.

Getting there

Here is a preview of what the finished project will look like. Not all that shoe molding is nailed on yet, and we need to caulk and paint (it came pre-primed), but at last, we have a foretaste of final floor bliss.

It's also amazing what a difference it makes when you dig through the garage for the paint can and touch up all the scuffs and nicks and long gouges on the walls. Makes the paint look fresh. Perhaps I should do that in the kitchen as well, which looks a bit like a war zone only three years after being painted.

See those darker bits in the corner? Funny story about that. Unfortunately, we ran out of wood and adhesive with about five square left to lay; fortunately, we had to make a trip down to the flooring store anyway to return an unused bucket of sealant. Unfortunately, down at the flooring store, we couldn't match the color exactly; fortunately, the closest match was still teak. Unfortunately, we had to buy the entire box just to get five square feet; fortunately, the salesman priced the box at fifty cents a square foot. (That's $0.50/sq. ft., if you like your figures expressed that way.) I defy anyone to find a better deal. And since we were returning the sealant, we actually made money on the deal (though buying molding ate through that, and then some).

Just to contrast, here's what the rest of the living room currently looks like.

The Floor Show

The downstairs floor is finished. All the wood is installed. (Let's not speak of the baseboards, the grout, or the thresholds.)

To celebrate this, I give you the Misses Darwin, perched upon what are now empty boxes.