"Um, I read amazon reviews about which crib sheets are softest and which changing pads don't smell like chemicals while brainstorming ways I can creatively get away with not cooking dinner again this week. ('Look honey, I found these delicious looking frozen burritos at the grocery store!') And in between I'm attempting to discover a successful way to make fifteen pillows on my side of the bed help me sleep at night. Oh, and I'm also trying to get my real estate license before the baby comes."
Usually I just say that last sentence.
And then they say, "Oh when are you due..?"
"One more week."
"Oh, wow. Good luck with that."
When they ask Jordan what he does, the conversation is much more interesting.
"I'm in school for counseling," he usually begins, "and we also flip houses." (Note the generous, if not slightly exaggerated we.)
This is when everyone gets excited.
"You flip houses? That's so cool! I love HGTV."
"Yeah."
"So do you have a whole crew working for you?"
"No, it's pretty much just me. Once in a while I hire a plumber. And sometimes good friends step in at the last minute when we're desperate for help."
"Oh wow. That must be so fun. That's really cool. Do you watch Fixer Upper?"
After that night, Jordan proclaimed that he was going to start telling people he worked construction. Because saying he flips houses sounds cooler than it is. It automatically gives people visions of "your crew" and fancy designers and total transformation after 30 minutes (minus commercial breaks). Construction doesn't quite portray his job, but reality is somewhere in between the two. (And let's be honest, it's only recently that we've been able to add the plural s onto "flipping houses".)
People are right. House flipping is fun. It is cool. But not necessarily for the reasons they think. I've already disclosed that flipping houses in real life is not like HGTV. But I'd like to explain specifically what is and what isn't cool about house flipping.
What is NOT cool about house flipping:
1. Dust. This one is not so bad for me these days since we aren't currently living in the house we're flipping. But when Jordan comes home at night, he blows me a kiss and heads for the shower so as not to give me a fiberglass hug. Sometimes he gets tired of being dirty every day.
2. Mistakes. Last week Jordan was finishing the floors in the garage-turned-kitchen when he accidentally shot a nail into a pipe. He heard the dripping sounds of water leaking and knew he was in for hours of extra work, all because of one nail shot in the wrong place. The next day he went about undoing his work, taking up the floorboards, removing the insulation, and repairing the pipe. HGTV shows need some of that drama, but when you're not watching it on TV, it's less exciting and more annoying.
3. Poop. This story should probably be a stand alone blog post, so perhaps I'll hash it out more when we reveal the Yale House master bathroom. In short, Jordan needed to move the sewer pipe to make room for the new bathroom. It was made of cast iron (read: very heavy) so his plan was to hack it apart with a saw and carry it to the dumpster piece by piece. A sewer scope was done before we purchased the house, but they only looked down the drain, not back toward the toilet. Tragically, that is where it was clogged. When Jordan cut open the sewer pipe to move it, he was face to face with a wall of poop that soon began to drip sewage water onto the floor. (Let's hope the future owners never find this blog.) (That's a joke, real estate commission!) I won't force you to envision the rest, but the terrible truth does entail Jordan heaving buckets of sewage up the stairs and outside for the better part of the day. Not cool.
What IS cool about house flipping:
Transformation.
It happens less like an episode of Flip or Flop and more like transformation occurs in real life. Slowly. Painfully. Filled with small victories and big mistakes. Encouraging days of progress, and days you accidentally shoot a nail into a pipe. Though it doesn't happen in thirty minutes, it is a magical process to watch.
When Jordan comes home after a long day with mortar on his hands and dust in his eyelashes, I am grateful. Because he is covered in redemption's dust. The black grime of restoration's work is under his fingernails.
It's a messy job making the old shine and gleam like the new. But it's worth it. Over time, Jordan and I get to see a home that no one wanted become a beautiful haven. The worn becomes fresh. What was broken is fixed.
And with each new pipe replaced, each fresh tile laid, it's a gentle reminder that God is doing the same things inside of us. He, too, is covered with redemption's dust, the black grime of restoring our lives under his fingernails. And that's pretty cool.
...
[This series of shots of the basement bathroom were all taken from the same angle.]
