From Pencil Drawings

The preliminary drawings for our house arrived last night. The renovation is to improve the structure, foundation, and layout as well as an addition to the master bedroom. We have a list of details we'd like to incorporate, but the total is expensive. Thoughts of having a bathroom that both my husband and I can stand in at the same moment without getting in the other's way compete with my mind's eye thinking of how fabulous marble octagon tiles would look shining on the floor. I can see my husband's eye roll now, but, hey, it would be from across the bathroom floor and all of the light bouncing around and off of that marble floor might distract him. Bare with me, I didn't sleep well.

I tried not to think about the house, the drawings, or the renovations most of the night. I woke up happy realizing that I had slept and thought, "Is it morning yet?" With the sun beginning to light the sky, I could finally give into my intrusive thoughts about colors and textures. Now that my brain has a reasonable layout on which to pounce, it wants to fill in the pencil drawings and make them into colorful magazine shots. Problem is all of those structural layout issues are absorbing the cash flow. The sparkly details may have to wait a while. If you come for a visit and there is a hole where the six burner gas stove is supposed to go, you'll know we ran out of cash, but we planned for the future.

That's my dilemma: do you plan for what you want or what you can afford? I don't mean to say that you plan for stuff you can't afford, but do you do it in stages so you can make it the way you want or do you do the whole thing but compromise on the materials you want? I am torn. If you do the whole thing wrong, you waste your money. If you plan for stuff, you have gaps awaiting to be filled in the indefinite future. Things have a way of working themselves out, but in the moment at hand I want it all. I have a feeling my husband will make me compromise; he always does. He has these logical explanations, probing questions, or insightful assessments that take the thrill out of the day's wants. We always end up in a good place, but the road there can get bumpy.

The preliminary drawings for our house arrived last night. The renovation is to improve the structure, foundation, and layout as well as an addition to the master bedroom. We have a list of details we'd like to incorporate, but the total is expensive. Thoughts of having a bathroom that both my husband and I can stand in at the same moment without getting in the other's way compete with my mind's eye thinking of how fabulous marble octagon tiles would look shining on the floor. I can see my husband's eye roll now, but, hey, it would be from across the bathroom floor and all of the light bouncing around and off of that marble floor might distract him. Bare with me, I didn't sleep well.

I tried not to think about the house, the drawings, or the renovations most of the night. I woke up happy realizing that I had slept and thought, "Is it morning yet?" With the sun beginning to light the sky, I could finally give into my intrusive thoughts about colors and textures. Now that my brain has a reasonable layout on which to pounce, it wants to fill in the pencil drawings and make them into colorful magazine shots. Problem is all of those structural layout issues are absorbing the cash flow. The sparkly details may have to wait a while. If you come for a visit and there is a hole where the six burner gas stove is supposed to go, you'll know we ran out of cash, but we planned for the future.

That's my dilemma: do you plan for what you want or what you can afford? I don't mean to say that you plan for stuff you can't afford, but do you do it in stages so you can make it the way you want or do you do the whole thing but compromise on the materials you want? I am torn. If you do the whole thing wrong, you waste your money. If you plan for stuff, you have gaps awaiting to be filled in the indefinite future. Things have a way of working themselves out, but in the moment at hand I want it all. I have a feeling my husband will make me compromise; he always does. He has these logical explanations, probing questions, or insightful assessments that take the thrill out of the day's wants. We always end up in a good place, but the road there can get bumpy.