bathroom floor

I live in a really crappy house. I mean, it is a really small fixer-upper. Our list of home improvement projects is long and foreboding. We are not folks who watch too much HGTV and got over zealous one night with the honey-do list or who fantasize that our house is a work in progress. Our list includes jacking up the sagging front porch, and overhauling the plumbing.

I’m like the proverbial baker’s wife- who has no bread. I am married to a man who can fix anything, but has no time in which to do it.

Don’t get me wrong- we have made a lot of progress over the years. (and when I say “we,” of course I mean Dave)

Last week, we got to one project we (Dave) had been meaning to do for too long- the rotting bathroom floor.

This floor had always been an eyesore, a dirt trap, and an embarrassment. But ever since the onset of toddler toilet training, it just smelled like pee. Every time one of my little angels would urinate just shy of the toilet, all the wetness would seep into the cracked vinyl and stay there, and so would the smell.




Here is a before shot of our bathroom floor:






Yes, that is me after I gave birth to my second daughter. No, I was not planning it quite that way. Fortunately, I was high on endorphins at the moment of this photograph and did not care a mite that I was half naked on this disgusting floor.


This blog entry is nothing more than a celebration of the fact that, three years later, we (and by “we,” I mean Dave) finally replaced the bathroom floor.


It was no small task:





Neither was it any small sacrifice to be without our only toilet for three days.

We were so excited when this was finished, that we took a series of shots of our adorable second-born in the spot where she was born:





We tend to spend a lot of time on the bathroom floor, actually.





If you think about it, you probably do too.