You know how you have those moments when everything comes together and you feel all content and calm, and look at your family and home and think, yep, I’ve got this shit nailed?
No. Me neither.
So I had this brilliant idea that now would be the time to do up our old lady bathroom.
That I couldn’t have another bath looking up at the apricot polystyrene tiles on the ceiling.
That the sink that has been fitted inside a kitchen unit, (that’s right, someone had the fantastic idea to build a kitchen unit in a bathroom,) was losing its quirky charm.
I could have done a bit or research.
Worked out what we wanted.
Costed it up.
Got some drawings or whatever it is you do done.
That would have been the sensible thing to do.
Alternatively, I could have just thought fuck it, I’ll get the wall knocked down and then work out what the fuck we’re doing afterwards.
So. There is one minor problem here.
Actually there’s loads if you think we now have to go to a neighbours to bath the kids until we get our shit together, but on the plus side my gym membership is finally paying off with using their shower every other day.
But the main problemo is our totally change averse two-year-old.
I had tried to warn him that the bathroom might look a tad different when we were driving home from the childminders.
I could see him clenching his little firsts and sucking his lip in, gearing up for the mother of all mardies.
But I reckon half the street could here his screams of ‘FIX IT! FIX IT! FIX IT!’ as he looked at the half torn down wall.
I kind of get what he means.
This doesn’t scream 'long soak listening to radio four with the candles lit.'
But it will.
I will have an aspirational bathroom that cries out how together my life is.
Then I’m going to build my life around it.
I’m just one B and Q bathroom planning session away from being a grown up.