Part Time Authors vs Pintrest

This week we are taking on the idea that everyone online lives in amazing houses where the edges of everything is fuzzy. Yeah, it's not and we should all stop feeling bad that our houses don't look like this:

And our bathrooms don't look like this:

And our tree houses don't look like this:

It's all too much pressure! So in an effort to expose truth of how we really live, let me introduce you to my new floor.

This year we bought our dream house...literally, it was built in 1956 and they were thinking of us when they built it.  A ghost lady (who first lived in the house) lead us to our home and we are all still waiting to see if she is going to be our families spiritual guide or kill us. But the house needed new floors in the kitchen and dinning room and we knew KNEW KNEW what we wanted and what we wanted was...white.  Bright, clean, modern, it was the perfect thing to update our new 57 year old kitchen.

We stresses about what kind of floor we were going to do for weeks...and I mean we stayed up late, we went to store after store, we trolled Pintrest where we found no less then 3,000 floors we wanted but how to make our own?!

We ended up finding these two tiles that we loved.  One was real white and has a linen texture and the other a warm grey smooth like cement.  We then studied tile patterns for weeks, all I knew was that I wanted timeless and not trendy.

After WEEKS of installing the subfloor then the tile then the grout this is how it shook out:

There it is...and that floor is permanent!  We made sure of that when we cemented down the subfloor straight on to the wood slats of foundation of the house. So after months of thinking we were doing a hounds tooth pattern, because hounds tooth is timeless, we knocked out a chevron floor that is going to be dated in three weeks.  Lucky for us, this floor will last 50 years and chevron is going to be back in a big way in 50 years.

Also...the white...

My friend Brittany begged us not to do white tile floors.  She implored!  When she lived in Germany she had had white tile floors and they were the bane of her existence. But she also had a big ol' dog...we have a little one, so we thought we'd be fine.

We were not.  This lovely floor gets filthy just looking at it.  Turns out, two toddlers and a small dog living in the muddy mountains quickly out dirties some big German dog.  She was right...there it is, in black and white, Brittany-was-right.

Here is a shot of our floor this morning*: My wife will kill me for not tidying up before I put this picture up, but this is in the name of reality so this is what you get...sorry honey.

Now, those are not shadows on the floor above...it's filth of one kind or another, who knows really.  And I will say that this is the only real plus side of our floors, if we couldn't constantly see the crap the was collecting on our floor then we probably wouldn't clean then as often, which only means we would still have gross floors we just wouldn't see them.  So when we clean them, there is a empowering sense that these floors are ah real clean!

So there you have it.  Not real sexy, in fact it's the opposite, we wanted Pintrest floors and we got Livingston floors.  But we did do them ourselves and we worked hard and they are better then the ripped up linoleum we replaced.  But please, don't call them chevron...they are hound tooth.   

*Please note the door missing off the corner cabinet.  When we painted the interior of the cabinet (Pintrest told us we were suppose to) I some how took out that rotating shelf. When I went to put it back, I can't get the door back on because the shelves are now screwed into the wrong place.  Yeah, THAT'S REALITY...put that in your pipe and Pintrest it! 

I'm on Top of the World

Last month we moved to our new home in Provo, Utah. It is a beautiful area, we love the neighborhood, we love the spaciousness of the house, and we feel absolutely spoiled being here. Christmas is going to look great! The kitchen is wide open and has a fireplace! Lots of bedrooms for our sprawling offspring! (Hmm. Sprawling Offspring. Did I just stumble upon the title for my memoirs?) Trees surround the house and the wind whispers through them. The view from the back deck is breathtaking.


Have I painted a pretty enough picture for you? Because I am now going to tell you what TERRIFIES me about this house.


It's on top of the most giant hill in the world. Seriously, you guys, uh-THE GIANTIST! If this hill was a rollercoaster track and this house was the car, I would NOT go down it. (And I've never backed down from a rollercoaster ride yet. Becaues I'm extremely brave. But I WOULD on this one!)

Every time I drive home from work I begin praying AND fasting (just for the drive home, and also after I have my driving-home snack) that I will make it up the hill! I drive a Camry, you guys. A 2005 Cam-freaking-ry! (Is that where you place “freaking?” I don't use a lot of C-level swears.)


So I'm almost home and I begin ascending Mt. Kilimanjaro, and I bust through the atmosphere and the Delta-airline-manufactured oxygen mask drops from my car ceiling (it was an anniversary gift from Katie) and I strap it on and then terror sinks in as I contemplate the inevitable...


One day soon, before the end of the year, this hill will be buried in snow. And I will have to drive up it. Or worse. Down it.


In all sincerity, I've had panic attacks about this. I will be lying in bed, lights off and the whole world is still. Trying to dose off, just on the verge of drifting into my night-nights...when the paralyzing image of me attempting to navigate our 12-passenger van careening down the snow-packed slope that is our street overpowers all other thoughts.


I've done preliminary research and asked neighbors who have lived here for years what I should expect. I get everything from, “Oh, yeah, it's treacherous. You'll often have to leave your car at the bottom of the hill. We circulate a list of phone numbers of people on the street who will come pick you up on their snowmobile and take you home,” to “In 30 years I've only ever had to hike home three times. Of course you have a four-wheel drive, right?” And I say, “Of course,” because I don't want them to think I'm the idiot neighbor who has no idea if his Camry has four-wheel drive. (It doesn't, right? I knew it. Cam-freaking-rys!)