Until CPod finishes what he started.
Our house was new when we bought it 6 years ago. We loved it then. We love it still, but the bedrooms are small and our only options are to cram three little boys into one room, or let MayDay share with the baby. Both are viable, but only for so long.
We own some land -- just a couple of acres, but it's lovely and close by and as soon as CPod's student loans are paid off (soon!) we'll be building something that suits our needs a little more fully: a big bunk room for all the boys, large enough for all of them to have personal space, and close enough quarters to let them keep tabs on each other; a better spot for a good garden (the property overlooks farm land, after all -- we'll have to follow suit); a studio for all of the musical instruments and accompanying accessories, so I'll be ready when the time comes to begin teaching again; a capacious and accessible pantry for food storage.
In the mean time, we're DIY-ing some minor upgrades and updates to make this house a bit more marketable.
I say minor. But how can anything be minor when it consumes every available (read: when children are sleeping) hour and turns your kitchen into something out of one of those disaster shows on HGTV.
CPod is actually quite capable. He worked his way through undergraduate doing electrical contracting work during the summers, so he installed hard-wired under-cabinet lighting all the way around the kitchen. It's wonderful.
We also installed a smaller cabinet above our stove to make room for an above-the-range microwave. This will free up the counterspace currently occupied by the behemoth dinosaur we've had since we got married 12 years ago, increasing the available work area a ton. (It smells like burnt popcorn anyway. Every single time we use it.)
Once all of the other stuff is done, we'll have someone else install moulding on top of our cabinets. Some things, CPod just isn't willing to do, and complicated use of the miter saw tops that list.
He has self-educated himself into tiling expertise. Our new subway tile backsplash will look wonderful -- as soon as it's finished. Therein lies the problem.
Our time is so limited that you can only make so much progress in an evening, and still get enough sleep to function the next day. So, in 4 nights, he's finished about a third of the kitchen. But all of his materials stay out -- except for the tile saw, which spends its days on the deck. Everything that ordinarily inhabits the counters (basket of sweet potatoes and Vidalia onions, knife block, paper towel dispenser, etc.) has been crammed onto the only available bit of counterspace left. Which means I have no place to work.
It's not that I mind. Really, I don't. I've been folding laundry in the living room the past couple of nights, and since CPod is otherwise occupied, I've been able to indulge in one of my small obsessions: TiVoed episodes of Miss Marple, on Masterpiece Mystery. CPod hates this show. No exaggeration. It's so dry and British that he just can't take it. He doesn't get Are You Being Served? either, but I could crack myself up right now just thinking about Mr. Humphries picking up the phone and saying, "Menswear."
I should just pause it every time he uses the tile saw, but somehow, it makes me feel smarter to know that I've unraveled the mystery too, even though I'm missing 30 seconds of essential puzzle-piece dialogue every five minutes or so.
It WILL be done soon. Otherwise, we're going to have to seriously increase our food budget to compensate for all the take-out. And it will be wonderful when it's finished. But then we'll move on to another project, and before too long, we'll be working on sweat equity projects in the house we'll build. It's just like laundry: never done, unless you're naked. Or dead.