Our Passover Story

close up of hands holding baby feet

We kicked off Passover 2021 COVID-style once again, with one Seder for just the four of us (night 1) and the other on Zoom last night with my family. Typically, we run a full Seder with my family, reading from the Haggadah, and we keep it simple with a few prayers and songs when it’s only the four of us. However, this year, Dan really wanted our small Seder to be more than that.

“Last year at this time, I was unemployed, and job prospects were dim,” he said earlier in the week. “We had no idea what was to come with COVID and we felt pretty isolated. This year, I have a job and am grateful and there’s hope with the vaccines. I want to do something meaningful.”

We started a list of what we wanted to include: lighting the candles; discussing the meaning of what’s on the Seder plate; the blessings – over the karpas, matzah, maror; an abridged version of the story of Passover, welcoming Elijah (speaking of Elijah, I wonder if he masked up this weekend given all of the homes he visited!). And, of course..

Me: We need to include the 4 glasses of wine.

Dan: I love how you think.

Jordan: Mom, it’s 4 cups of wine! Like kid-size cups.

Dan: I like Mom’s version.

There is a significance behind the four cups of wine. The Four Cups represent the four expressions of deliverance promised by God, describing our Exodus from Egypt and slavery and our birth as a nation: “I will take you out,” “I will save you,” “I will redeem you,” and “I will take you as a nation.” The cups are a toast to each of these expressions.

Beyond the Seder and all it includes, one of our favorite Singer family Passover traditions is telling the story of the boys’ birth – which coincided with Passover 2004. I retold the story Saturday night when we started eating our meal.

“Dad and I went to the first Seder on Monday, April 5.”

“Where was it?” Ryan asked.

“Ryan, you know where it was. Mom tells this story every year,” Jordan groaned.

“I want to hear her say it.”

“Mom-mom B and Pop-pop B’s apartment,” I answered.

“With the very long table that took up the whole room,” Ryan added.

“Yes,” I laughed.

“Wait – it just hit me that your last meal before giving birth was all matzah-based,” Jordan said. “That’s a shame. I’m so sorry.”

I laughed again. “No one could believe I was even still pregnant by Passover,” I said.

17 years ago…

By April 5, I was exactly 38 weeks pregnant, but the doctors had predicted labor between 34 and 36 weeks because of the position of Jordan’s head. They even suggested someone stay with me at all times, because when I went into labor, it would likely be a fast delivery.

I’d started maternity leave at 32 weeks and had basically spent the last six either 1) lying on the couch – moving around with my monster belly was difficult and uncomfortable. I think I was the biggest pregnant person ever, carrying 13lbs of baby; or 2) going with my mom to Abington hospital every few days to take non-stress tests for the babies and then out to Bonnet Lane for lunch. The exciting life of a mom-to-be.

When, to the surprise of everyone, we got to the 37-week point, my OB practice scheduled an induction for April 6. They didn’t recommend delivering twins much past 38 weeks. We were told to call the hospital that morning before coming over, to make sure there were beds. If someone had been admitted who was unexpectedly in labor, I’d have to wait a day.

By April 5, I had exactly two outfits that fit the monster belly – both giant sweaters and maternity stretch pants. They are in pictures from every occasion we attended the entire winter. However, Spring came with a vengeance that day, and I found myself with nothing to wear in the 80-degree temps for the first Seder. My mom ran out and managed to find a pretty purplish blouse that fit decently well over the basketball I was carrying. I mention this as significant because the picture of me in that shirt is the last photo I have before life completely changed!

The Seder itself was uneventful (other than all of the good wishes on our delivery the next day), and the next morning, Dan and I woke up at 6:00 am to go the hospital. When I got out of bed, my water broke. I called the hospital to tell them we were coming. A nurse said there were no beds and to call back tomorrow.

“But my water broke!” I interrupted her, not wanting to risk Baby A’s quick arrival at our house. She said to just come over and they’d figure it out.

They found us a room, and we settled in. I was only a few centimeters dilated and not really in pain at that point, and several hours later, my family had gathered to hang out with us while we waited. My parents, sister and brother-in-law, Marni and Dan, Aunt Sue, and Mom-mom and Pop-pop were all there.

Only my family could turn labor into a party. Nurses kept commenting on how much fun we were having. Marni had made a labor mix tape and we sang along and laughed at her selections (eg Push it). After some time, I was 4cm dilated and had started to feel it intensely, but the pain evaporated after the doctor administered an epidural.

Once the amazing epidural kicked in, we played a version of the memory game, I’m going on a picnic and I’m going to bring… you know that game where you have to remember what everyone before you said and then add a new thing with the next letter? Our version was I’m going to the delivery room and I’m going to bring… (Anesthesia, Babies, Car seat… is it weird I still remember some of what we brought?) The family was impressed with my memory, given the circumstances, but always competitive, I wasn’t going to let a little labor get in the way of a game!

“Hang on,” Jordan interrupted when I got to this part. “The family was in the labor room with you and Dad the whole time? Playing games and singing? he asked incredulously. “Actually, never mind. I wouldn’t expect anything less. Go on,” he said. (I did, after a quick explanation that no one but Dad was there for the delivery part!)

The day continued. By 4:30, I was 6cm dilated. My ‘fast’ delivery had reached the 10 hour mark. We were finished with games; I was cranky and tired and wanted these babies out. The doctor had given me drugs to speed up labor, and pain was setting in again. There would be no more pain meds to help.

Marni and Dan decided to go to Dan’s mom’s house for the second Seder, since it seemed we still had awhile to go. But – in a dramatic turn of events – I was suddenly 10cm dilated at 6:00pm, and it was time to start the delivery. My mom called Marni and Dan, who had just arrived at his mom’s Seder. They turned around and drove back to the hospital at record speed so they could be there when the babies were born. Because – you know – it would be a ‘fast’ delivery.

Four hours later, I was begging for a C-section, and the doctor and nurses started the prep. Mom-mom, Pop-pop and Sue had gone home and were waiting by the phone for news. Marni’s Dan also went home to get some sleep, so he could go to work the next day. My poor family had hung in there for such a long time!

Finally, a quick 18 hours after my water broke, Jordan and Ryan made their debut into the world on the second day of Passover, at 12:18 and 12:20 am on April 7.

Marni and my parents cooed over the babies when they were wheeled out of the delivery room. They, and Dan, finally went home and fell into a deep sleep.

“How long were you in the hospital?” Ryan asked.

“I think it was five nights.”

“Where was Dad?”

“He was there most of the time,” I said. “One night he went to Aunt Marni and Uncle Dan’s apartment for dinner – they had leftovers from the Seder they never attended. Dad didn’t realize the leftovers were supposed to last them the whole week, and he kept taking more. He ended up eating all of their food!”

Ryan laughed – he loves this part.

“I was really hungry! And tired. And overwhelmed with these new babies!” Dan protested, as he always does.

“And then you brought us home, and that’s the end of the story,” Ryan said.

“Well, it’s actually the very beginning,” I replied, thinking about our 17 years of stories since then – some told through this blog, some kept between us, some still to be told. What an amazing, emotional, exhausting, miraculous journey.

Passover, while primarily about freedom and triumph over adversity, is also about strength, resilience, faith and miracles. I can’t think of a holiday more fitting to have become a mom to these two incredible boys.

January reflections (in COVID times)

Hello, readers – we made it to February! With January, my least favorite month, behind us, I thought I’d share some ramblings about my family’s start to the year. This is a little different than two years ago, when my January reflections post covered school, surgery, and an Eagles team that made it to the playoffs!

A dry-ish January

Dan and I officially finished dry – well, dry-ish – January. Two years ago, when we first decided to give dry January a try, we made it to MLK weekend. Because it would have been rude to not drink the delicious bottle of wine our friends brought to dinner, that was the end of our efforts.

“You did a dry Janu,” Jordan said, when I told him. “You made it through half the month, so you can’t actually claim dry January.”

We decided on January 1 this year to try it again. Jordan just listened and shook his head. “Good luck with that,” he said. He had a point. It’s hard to do dry anything when you’re just sitting around your house most of the time. And, when your wine collection is literally three feet from your desk, and you see it all. day. long.

I read an article earlier this month about how to keep yourself on track if you’re doing a dry January. The suggestions were things like – After work, go straight to an activity, so you don’t think about having an evening drink. Go to the gym. Take a class. Walk with friends. Go bowling. See a movie. So, the author was essentially saying, get out in the world with groups of people? Hmmm. After I confirmed this was not written pre-COVID but actually in November 2020, the author’s credibility diminished, and I stopped reading.

Two weeks into January, we discussed whether one drink on a Saturday – like a short happy hour – would be okay. We could do a very light January, instead of the full-on dry month. Then last week, I made the point that it’s a long week here at home. We’re both going nonstop all day, so how can we deny ourselves a Friday night glass or two of wine as a reward? After that, it morphed into a ‘light weekend’ January.

When Jordan saw me opening a bottle that Friday night, he raised his eyebrow.

“For the record, I called this on January 1st,” he said.

Interestingly, the light January had a positive effect – we’ve both found our tolerance has decreased, and we can’t really drink more than a couple of glasses at a time. Fewer calories are definitely a plus (score 1 point for January), so we decided to keep going with a light February.

Wasting time

One of the things I’ve noticed about our lackluster COVID social life is how much time we spend doing and thinking about things we never would have before March 2020. 

Take the Bernie Sanders memes. They’re hilarious, but would they have garnered the same amount of enthusiasm pre-COVID? I looked back on two nights of family texts a week ago – 45 minutes on a Thursday and an hour that Friday – spent sending our own Bernie memes back and forth. My sister, Marni, and I were the most obsessed. She figured out how to cut out Bernie using the picsart app and sent me some tips. Mine looked awkward at first, but I kept practicing and got better each time.  I figured out on Friday if you click cutout and then select person, Bernie’s chair goes away, and he can fit in so many more places.

We texted our pics to the family – Bernie outside Beth Am (our synagogue), in our family photo at my niece’s Bat Mitzvah, outside Marni’s house before the Bat Mitzvah, outside the boys’ high school, at Cape May sitting on the chairs with Ryan by Congress Hall, on the American University sign next to my college friends and me, playing in the snow with Marni’s kids, sitting next to the Hollywood sign when we were in LA, and with me on various travels around the world.

“You’re still doing this?” Dan asked later Friday night, several hours after I’d started playing around with the app.

“I want to do it,” Ryan said. “Can you show me?” I did, and he picked it up quickly.

“This is really dumb,” Jordan said. “I don’t get it.”

“But look,” I said, pulling up the latest one I found on Instagram. “Here’s one the theater department posted of you and your friend holding Bernie up during your song in the last show.  It’s a riot.”

 “It’s not that funny.”

“It’s the best thing ever,” I argued and pulled up another picture. “Here he is with Bunny (my stuffed animal from childhood)!”

He just shook his head. We usually have a similar sense of humor, but Jordan is not into these types of things (nor does he appreciate political satire song parodies, which I love).

There’s no way I would have spent mindless hours on Bernie memes before COVID. We were always somewhere at night, and free time was precious. But because I had time, I was able to learn a new skill – Bernie cropping! (Score another point for January 😊 )

I’m not the only one losing hours of my evenings and weekends to random things. Jordan has been listening to lengthy Survivor podcasts – one morning he was up at 4:00 am and couldn’t go back to sleep, so he found a podcast that kept him busy until 7:15. Ryan likes to look on realtor pages and virtually visit houses on the market. He’s very into whether the houses are old and cluttered, or are redecorated, and will show me photos, asking when we can redo his bedroom, bathroom, and many other things in our house.

“We just did the kitchen a little over a year ago,” I remind him. “And the shower in my bathroom right before that.”

“So when can we do the other rooms and get new furniture?” (because, you know, we’re made of money and can just renovate the whole house on a whim)

“We can’t.”

“Well, how ‘bout we just move then?” he’ll often suggest. “I can find us a house.”

Speaking of obsessions, Dan has become very interested in his genealogy and recently discovered records dating back to Eastern Europe from great, great, great grandparents  – birth, death, immigration records… it’s interesting stuff, and he tends to research this for hours and talk about it – a lot. When he’s buried in his iPad searching, I can’t get him to concentrate on anything else.

His focus on this is just as intense as when he did 23andMe a couple of years ago and continuously shared his results with us as they were updated. He was most intrigued with his .2% Sardinian roots (which have since expanded to .6% when 23andMe changed its algorithms). Keep in mind, Dan has an interesting DNA background as it is, but it was the Sardinian piece he constantly talked about.

“I’m .2% Sardinian,” he told us proudly several times a week and shared this with anyone who unknowingly brought up the topic of genealogy.

Jordan and I regularly made fun of this. “Did you know Dad was Sardinian?” Jordan would ask when Dan found ways to bring it into meal-time conversations.  

“No way! That’s wild!” I’d reply.

A couple of years ago, we were out to dinner with friends, and one of our friends mentioned genetics. I was sitting next to Jordan and we made eye contact right away. I whispered, “I give it 3 minutes.”

“Bet you it’s less than 30 seconds,” he whispered back. “And 5, 4, 3…”

“Speaking of genetics, I found out I have Sardinian roots!” Dan exclaimed to our friends.

“Nicely played,” I said to Jordan.

Ryan’s questions

I’m sure I’ve mentioned in other blogs Ryan likes to ask lots and lots of questions. About 90% of them start with Mom. I think he says the word, Mom, 600 times a day. “Mom,… why are…?“Mom, what’s going to happen when…” “Mom, when is…?” “Mom, remember when…?”

He mostly sits on the couch with what I call his ‘equipment’ surrounding him. His iPad, phone, charging block with multiple USB ports, and plugs, which I’m constantly tripping over. I’m always telling him to move his equipment before he causes an accident.

Ryan’s questions generally fall into three categories:

  1. Questions about things that happened in the past (e.g. bad behavior stories), which he knows the answer to but wants to hear me say it again.
  2. Questions about an upcoming event where he has concerns (e.g. his recent IEP meeting). These questions have also likely been answered many times, but he finds comfort in talking about them over and over.
  3. Questions about something in the future where I don’t have an answer and can’t control whatever the topic is (e.g. the weather), but he wants to hear what I think, take it as gospel and then ask me about it again. (and again…)

The third category was the source of most questions last month, with the majority being about the COVID-19 vaccine. Questions focused on when our family members in the 65+ category will get the vaccine, when the four of us will get it, what we can safely do this summer if we all get the vaccine by then, etc. It originally seemed promising. I was guessing, based on the news, our 65+ family, and maybe Marni as a teacher, would be vaccinated in February/March, and the rest of us by Summer. Given that timeframe, of course we’d go on vacation. I might even send him back to school in the Spring, knowing our older family members wouldn’t catch anything he might bring home.

“What do you mean by summer, Mom? May? June?”

“Hopefully one of those” I said.

But PA, like many states, is very behind in rollouts, and if my 95-year-old grandmother can’t get an appointment, some days it seems unlikely the vaccine will get to those of us who are younger and don’t have preexisting conditions in time for the summer.

“It could be July/August,” I said on another day.

“I thought it was May or June,” he argued.

“Well, I was just guessing. I’m not in charge of the vaccine.”

Why not?”

“Ry!”

“But, Mom, it’s May or June, right?”

“Ryan, I don’t know!”

“If we get the vaccine, can we go to Hawaii?” (We were supposed to go in August, and of course we cancelled that trip.)

This went on for weeks.

One day, it seemed so dismal hearing about how hard it is for people to get appointments here, so when Ryan asked, I snapped. “It’s going to be 2025!”

“Huh?” he asked, staring at me like I had lost it. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No, it’s never happening. We’re going to spend the next four years together in this house. Four more years of you on the couch with your equipment. Four more years of negotiating space when Jordan needs quiet so he can record something for school – because he’ll be taking online college music classes from his room. Four more years of Dad sitting hunched over at that bay window in the bedroom. Four more years sitting in my basement office with no sunlight. When someone compliments your elementary school artwork on the wall behind me while I’m on a video call (which happens frequently – my walls are full of the boys’ artwork), I’ll say, ‘Thank you. My boys, who are almost 21, made them. I meant to replace the school art with big canvas prints Ryan took in Hawaii, but we never made it to Hawaii because we’re still waiting for the vaccine!!!’”

“Mom? Are you having a temper tantrum? Do you need a time out?”

Yes.

After about 30 seconds… “Mom? When will we really get the vaccine?”

Most days I’m generally positive, but every so often, it’s easy to hit a wall.

As we kick off February, I’m raising my glass of sparkling water on this cold and snowy Monday in hopes of an early spring — and to an emergency authorization of the new J&J vaccine helping speed up the rollout — so everyone who wants to can be vaccinated by the Summer!

Two Voices

In today’s world, do you sometimes feel like you have two voices in your head? One is practical and grateful. It says things like:

  • Of course, we need to stay inside to keep ourselves and our families healthy. The death toll is at a scary all-time high.
  • Of course, we should have a slow transition back to life once the governors deem conditions safe enough to do so.
  • Of course, it’s not difficult to stay at home on our couches – we’re lucky if that’s the worst thing we’re faced with. Other people are putting their lives on the line working in stores and doctor’s offices and hospitals every day. We’re lucky to be healthy with our biggest challenge being managing kids, homeschool and work – other people are suffering badly with COVID-19. People are in the hospital and can’t see their loved ones. Others are at home sick, trying to take care of their kids. And many are struggling to pay their bills.
  • Of course, I’m grateful the boys are older, understand the situation and are handling it so well. It must be so difficult to have young kids during this crazy time. The other day when Ryan asked about timing for the end of the quarantine, I told him I had just heard on the news that for our county to open, the total number of cases need to be at an average of 30 per day, or a total of 415 new cases over a 14-day period. Jordan replied, “Good! We need to wait until it’s safe – our governor is smart!” The 16-year-old voice of reason.
  • Of course, I’m grateful to the teachers who quickly moved to an online curriculum, to our synagogue clergy who bring our congregation together virtually for Shabbat and Havdalah on the Friday and Saturday nights, and the many other organizations trying to keep everyone connected.
  • And of course, it’s nice to have this quiet time with our kids – dinner together, no running around to activities. I think one of the best things that came out of this is the boys ask each other about their days. It started out as a social skills assignment for Ryan and has turned into a regular dinnertime activity. And the weekends can be nice. Sometimes I like having nothing planned for the weekends. I’m honestly not sure where the time goes – TV, books, walks, online scrabble, reading endless articles about COVID-19, trying to ignore the endless articles about COVID-19, cleaning out closets, etc. I said to Dan the other day, “When we go back to whatever normal is, it will be a big adjustment to not have all this free time!”

And yet, there’s the other voice – the sad and anxious one – which says things like:

  • I want my !&?@#!#%&! life back soon! (summer would be nice – I really want to go on our planned vacation to Hawaii!) and wish there was a crystal ball to tell us when that point will be – mainly for Ryan who asks me about it every single day, multiple times. I hear him walking down the hall to my room at 7:45 every weekday morning and know the first words out of his mouth are going to be “Mom, let’s talk about summer. What’s going to happen?” Argh!!! And the endless discussions begin.
  • I miss family and friends – zoom and facetime are nice but not nearly the same as in person hugs and conversations. I worry about them getting sick and getting stuck alone at a hospital.  
  • I’m sad for my boys who only have a few years left of school and should be experiencing them with other kids. I’m sad they may not have a traditional summer vacation with camps, pools and the beach, because all too soon they’ll be in the working world and will never get to experience childhood summers again.
  • I’m anxious for Ryan who learns and focuses better face to face and has limited time to get ready for whatever direction his future takes him. Employability skills are a big part of his curriculum and you can only do so much virtually. He needs work experience. He needs his teachers in the room with him.
  • And I’m worried about what will happen when we finally go back to a new version of life and wave 2 of the virus hits.  

I saw a tweet that says, “The quarantine state of mind is having 3 solid days where you feel pretty well adjusted, followed by a sudden, unexpected dip into what we call “the hell zone.” Then the individual added below, “The hell zone is an anxious, semi-agitated state where you’re just sorta “off” for the whole day and time flows like you’re wading through chili – and your hell zone will NEVER synch up with other people’s hell zones and that’ll always make you feel weird and stressed out.” So true!

I’ve had insomnia on and off for most of my life. Last week, I found myself wide awake every night. I called the doctor on Friday to see if she could help. My doctor had left for the day, so this was another one at the practice whom I didn’t know.

We had a video chat and she asked, “Is there something that’s making you anxious?” I was about to burst out laughing but saw she was serious, looking at me earnestly.

“Umm…the state of the world?” I replied, somewhat sarcastically. With alerts to the latest news articles pinging phones all day long and regular local and national live updates, how can you not be anxious? There must be tons of people with insomnia out there.

“I meant,” she clarified, “Did anything new happen in your life recently?”

Our lives are essentially Groundhog Day, with no changes in sight. Status quo. We’re still healthy. We can pay the bills. We can talk to family and friends whenever we want. The kids can access school assignments and we can access work. There’s endless Netflix, Hulu and Prime shows to keep us busy. We have good neighbors and can take walks outside and wave to them from a distance.

“No,” I said. “Nothing new has happened. And I’m grateful for that.”

Home Improvements

I don’t remember when Ryan first became interested in home improvements, and specifically, the many ways we can improve our home. It seems like for the past couple of years, he has regularly asked about remodeling. “When can we remodel [insert room]?” has been a typical question.  ‘We’ – like he is part of the decision and the funding.

I had wanted to remodel our kitchen for a while, but other expenses got in the way. We finally decided to focus on it last summer – but decided to do cosmetic updates rather than a full remodel, as we still liked our cabinets and didn’t want to spend a fortune. My goal was to finish before Thanksgiving. And so we began with appliance shopping.

Appliance adventures

I ordered a dishwasher, microwave, stove and refrigerator from Lowes. The fridge was the hardest part because of the small space into which it had to fit, but the salesperson seemed confident the size they had would work based on my measurements.

The dishwasher and microwave came on a Friday in great condition and were promptly installed.  I was given a timeframe of between 11 and 2 for the stove and fridge delivery the following week and planned to clean out the old fridge right before 11 and pack our food in coolers full of ice in case the new fridge arrived closer to 2pm. At 10:30 I got a call they were a few minutes away. Of course this would be the first time a delivery ever came early. I quickly grabbed everything in the fridge and freezer and piled it on our dining room table just in time.

One of the delivery men came in with a cart to remove the old fridge. As he pulled it out, he said “I don’t think the new one is going to fit in here. Did you measure?”

It turned out I was off by about an inch. He said he’d take the new one back and I should call to order a smaller size. Meanwhile, the other delivery man had unloaded the new stove and noticed a big dent on the side. He asked if I still wanted it. Umm… you can guess what the answer was…and so we scheduled a reorder for the following week.

I then put all the food back in the old fridge. When he arrived home from school, Ryan was visibly disappointed we did not have new appliances. Later, when I called Lowes to find a smaller option, it turned out their next size down was too small, and I ended up getting a refund from them and ordering the new one from Home Depot.

The following week, the stove arrived without dents, so we now had three of the four appliances set. A few days later, it was time for the Home Depot fridge delivery, and I once again took all the food out and packed it in ice in various coolers on my dining room table. When the new fridge arrived and was taken off the truck, the men called me outside. “There’s a dent in the back,” one of them said, “And it’s pushing into the area where air circulates, so it’s up to you whether you want to send this back.”

Really? It was deja vu, saying goodbye to the new appliance and putting the food back in the old fridge. Home Depot said they could come the following Friday. I promptly texted Dan and told him it was his turn to wait for it and deal with the ‘food in and out of fridge’ annoyance. (Of course, that fridge arrived in perfect condition and Dan texted me about how easy the whole process was.) Ryan was beyond thrilled we now had all new appliances.

With this part of the kitchen complete, we moved on to the cosmetic updates.

The Kitchen Floor

Later in the summer, Dan and I went to pick out floor tile. I texted Ryan from the tile store needing a picture of our cabinets.

“Why do you want the picture?” he texted back

“I need to pick out tile that would match it nicely.”

“Can you text me pictures of the options?” he asked. He cracks me up.

We’d be out of our kitchen for three days during the floor installation in mid-October. The night before it was set to begin, we took everything out of the kitchen that we could possibly need – nonperishables, some dishes, medicines, coffee maker, toaster oven, soap and sponges, etc.). All of this was piled on the dining room table or in stacking bins next to it. The next day, the men working on the floor moved our fridge and oven into the dining room/family room area, as well. I worked in the basement and cringed all day with the banging noise.

Getting around that jam-packed area was a little like playing Tetris. I joked to Ryan we should leave the room like that for Thanksgiving. The sofa was in the middle with chairs pushed against it. Ryan loved it and sat on the couch, excitedly talking about how funny it was to be crammed in that room with everything on top of us. Meanwhile, the rest of us couldn’t find anything in the mess and we were all anxious to eat back at home by the last night.

Countertops and a Sink

The following Thursday, the countertops and sink were scheduled to be installed. When I came home Wednesday evening after being away for three days, we had to move everything off our kitchen counter and into the dining room. Ryan was on it the second I walked in the door. “Let’s go, Mom. I want to start moving our stuff!” I was tired and thought we could wait until the next morning, but he enthusiastically started moving things. He also kept asking if our new sink would have a “pull-down faucet like Sue has.” I wasn’t sure what he meant.

The next morning, the plumber, who was uninstalling our current faucet and garbage disposal, asked if we had selected a new faucet. I had assumed the faucet came with the sink, but after checking with the granite company, I realized it did not. Luckily, the plumber had one with him, which he said was high quality and he’d install it the following morning when he came back to hook up everything.

“Make sure it’s a pull-down faucet,” Ryan said later when I told him. “It will be whatever he has,” I replied, “I have no time to faucet shop tonight.”

The granite installation was easy – only an hour (I went downstairs for an hour conference call and came up afterwards to check on the job and it was finished) – and we had to let it dry overnight. The next morning, the plumber hooked everything back up and showed me the faucet – which pulled off and served as a hose to clean the sink. (as opposed to our old one, which had a separate attachment for that).

When Ryan came home, he had a big smile on his face as he looked at the countertops and sink. “Mom! It’s a pull-down faucet!” he exclaimed! “Thank you!” Whew! Since then, Ryan has washed his own dishes and rinsed away all food in the sink using ‘his’ faucet. He is on a mission to keep the sink clean.

(I should add Dan and Jordan were also both very complimentary of the kitchen, but it was nowhere near the level of excitement Ryan showed.)

The final touch – backsplash installation

The backsplash was scheduled for the first week in November, and I booked the painter for the following week. This would get us to my Thanksgiving deadline.

Monday night, I came home from a marathon day trip to NY with Ryan waiting for me, excited to clean off the countertops so the backsplash could be installed the next day. I was once again dead tired and suggested we just do it in the morning. (Note to self: stop scheduling these installations for the day after business trips!)

“But then it’ll be rushed, or you’ll do it without me. I’m ready to do it now,” he said.

Sigh…

The good news: Ryan was very helpful and probably took the majority of our stuff into the dining room. The bad news: Ryan dropped part of our Keurig and made a mess on the dining room floor that we had to clean. Luckily the Keurig still worked.

On to Tuesday morning…

The backsplash crew was due to arrive between 8:30 and 9. When no one had arrived by 9:15, I called the store. Apparently, they had left a message the week before on some other person’s phone that the backsplash was delayed and would not be ready for another two weeks. Argh!

When Ryan came home from school and heard the news, he came running down to my office for an update on timing.

 “How are you feeling?” he asked

 “Tired of moving things in and out of the kitchen,” I replied, laughing.

“Don’t worry, Mom,” he said, “I’ll help you do it.”

He did. And the installation went off without a hitch.

Table and Chairs

Unrelated to the renovation project but in the middle of everything, I put in a request to get our kitchen chairs – two of which had broken seats and one a broken leg – repaired. I also requested the table be touched up. When we got the table several years ago, we bought the lifetime warranty insurance policy. Every six months or so, I call for a touch up as the paint tends to rub off. For some reason, Raymour & Flanigan put this claim in as two separate requests, and I got a call that my kitchen table top would be ready for delivery the same week as the granite. I called them back and said I hadn’t ordered a table top. All I wanted was a touch up. Apparently, they had messed up the order and there was now a table top in stock. They suggested just taking it. Because it was two requests, the table top was scheduled to arrive in the morning and the chair repair guy in the afternoon.

Three men and a giant truck arrived first thing in the morning. “Where’s the table that needs assembly?” one of the men asked me.

I was confused. “My table is already assembled. “Where’s the new table top?”

The men were also confused. “We don’t have a table top. We were told we needed to assemble your table.”

Argh. One of the men called the service department to let them know about the mix up and 10 minutes later, I had a new appointment for a table top delivery I didn’t need.

That afternoon, the repair man who typically touches up my table and chairs came and quickly fixed the chairs.

I told him about the earlier mix up and asked, “Is there any way you can just fix my table now and I can cancel the table top order?”

“I wish I could,” he said, “but my order form says I can only work on the chairs.”

“You have the tool right there. It will take 5 minutes,” I persisted.

“Sorry, I’ll get in trouble,” he said. Seriously?

The Friday before Thanksgiving, the men arrived with what I thought would be the new table top. However, once again thought they were assembling a table in my house and did not have a top in their truck. (seriously, you can’t make this stuff up!)

Third time’s a charm, though – they came on Monday with an entire table – this time the wrong order worked in our favor – and gave us the whole thing. So as an added bonus, we had a new table for Thanksgiving!

Less than a day after the kitchen was complete and all decorated, Ryan asked, “What room can we renovate now?”