It all started with this lovely leak in our kitchen ceiling.
We called our insurance company and got an estimate for fixing and painting the ceiling, and fixing and replacing the old, cracked, mildewed, leaking shower floor above it.
That was simple enough, but then it was like we plunged headfirst into the "If You Give a Mouse a Cookie" book and couldn't get out of it. If you aren't familiar Laura Numeroff's books, one thing leads to another which leads to another which leads to another and so on. The progression makes for charming children's books; however, when adapted to home renovations, it gradually leads to bankruptcy.
When choosing new bathroom flooring, we couldn't help but think, "we should really get rid of all that dreadfully boring white tile in the shower at the same time...
and go for frameless shower glass too.
If we were having someone come in to do all that tile work anyway, it was a perfect time to get rid of the hanging shower caddy, right?
Sure, the insurance payment wasn't going to cover a dime of (not one, but two) custom built-in shower shelves, but you know... since it was all ripped apart anyway, it only made sense.
I never did like that white tile floor with the little black accent squares. And who was the genius who thought white grout was a good idea?
If somebody was going to be working on laying tile anyway, then obviously it was time to get rid of all the builder's grade white tile and replace it with travertine. Obvs.
Insurance was going to cover the cost of replacing the tile around the edge of the tub.
But you know... those big soaker tubs have always looked so inviting. Apparently, if you give a mouse a cookie, she's going to want a new bathtub to relax in while she eats it.
We initially planned on keeping the existing cabinets, countertop, mirrors, and lighting. The white would still go with all the new tile, and of all the things I have hated about this bathroom since we moved in, the light fixture was never one of those things.
So much for best laid plans. If you're going to spring for travertine floors, you gotta get the travertine counters to match, right?
And if your contractor is going to the trouble to build new cabinet drawer and door fronts (we did actually keep the existing cabinetry), then why continue to use the purchased-from-Target-20-years-ago medicine cabinet?
If you give a pig a pancake, he's going to have the contractor build a brand new medicine cabinet to hold his syrup.
Oh, and since the toilet had to be lifted up to replace the tile...
Then clearly, it needed to be replaced with a stronger flushing one with nice flat sides that don't collect dust.
So, it all started with a little insurance money to fix a leak in the shower floor, and it ended with a completely renovated master bathroom, a very modestly updated kids' bathroom, most of the upstairs painted, both stairwells painted, a new closet built in the office, new walls built in the playroom, new lighting in the playroom, and the entire downstairs ceiling painted. I think our poor contractor thought we were going to make him move in.
I have to say though, I'm very pleased with the transformation. From the sterile grey paint with the white tile, white tub, white counter, white floors, white sinks, white cabinets, white trim, and that horrendous white grout...
to our own little warm, inviting spa-like retreat.
Now we just have to figure out how to convince the insurance company that the little leak in the kitchen necessitated work being done all over the house. That shouldn't be too hard. Surely they have read "If You Give a Moose a Muffin", right?