Butt + erflies

April 11, 2010

Lots of house stuff happened today but the most exciting thing of all, seats down, was finally getting to put my butt on. I mean, finally getting to put my butterflies on.

Freudian slip, ha ha!

So without further ado, I introduce you to...my new toilet seat.

I hesitate to reveal my seat-y secret online because for the past couple of weeks, I've really loved surprising bathroom-using guests with this blinding sight. Have had some really great reactions so far. Hee hee hee!

A couple of t0ts have used it too, and come out asking to go again and again and again. Takes a while for the moms to catch on, but when they finally do, we all have a good laugh.

Truth is, I got the seat because I was having lots of fun making our bathroom into a mini-aquarium for Ayize and wanted to take our decor to "the next level" (I'll say!) but the fish and dolphin toilet seats cost way too much so I was about to give up. Then I found this one on sale -- for some strange reason, it's being discontinued LOL -- and figured, Why not? It's colorful. He won't know the difference. Of course, the first thing he did was point to it and appear confused.

"Bugs, Mama?"

I meekly muttered, "Uh...yeah."

Guess I underestimated his identification abilities just a tad bit!

'Course, finding a cheap seat online was the easy part. Installing it was a whole nutha story.

Watched an eHow tutorial and it looked like a pretty simple procedure but that was because they didn't have to contend with the ancient, rusty, paint- and debris-covered screws on my house's old toilet seat. Not to mention the fact that the working space was extremely tight, especially on the side of the toilet against the wall. I could hardly fit my hand in that space, let alone work a wrench and screwdriver simultaneously.

Can't say I've been that up close and personal with a porcelain bowl since my college days. Yikes! Not a pretty sight. But anyway, with lots of elbow grease and grunting, I finally got the danged thing off.

Opened up my under-the-sink cabinet and pulled out my freshly-shipped butterfly butt rest.

Squinched back into the tight squeeze of a work space to screw the new seat on.

Fortunately, I'd wised up since my earlier attempts, and had used the opportunity of a seatless toilet to clean the heck out of every available inch of that thing. Now she gleamed! Hence, I was safe to "go back in" for another Close Encounter of the Turd Kind.

The clean toilet stood out now since the rest of the bathroom was a major disaster zone -- both because of the haste with which the old owners had moved out, plus because of the amount of electrical work done in there since -- so I was compelled to scrub the sink, too.

The finished product, above. I was quite pleased with my efforts (clearly -- since I took a photo of it like the dork I am).

Onwards to another home improvement project, since Ayize continued to behave himself admirably. I measured the front steps and got out my roll of 3M Safety Tread (no-slip shoe-grip) tape.

Made some quick calculations on paper and realized I had just enough tape for a single strip only, on just four of the five treads. Ugh!

Ah well. Four outta five ain't bad.

I cut them to length, then carefully rounded each of the edges with scissors to avoid crisp corners that could be more easily nudged up by heavy shoe traffic. Finished two completely but Ayize was getting antsy, so it was time to head home.

He had a quick brunch and then we headed out the door. I needed to replace the stove. But first: some backstory. My dad has a really sensitive sense of smell and he was sure he smelled gas in the house from day one. My mom and I thought he was wrong but he insisted. Fortunately, when I set up the utilities prior to the move, I decided on a whim to pay an extra five bucks a month to Nicor for gas leak insurance, figuring it would help with any initial move-in problems. Then, if there ended up being no issues, or if there were problems and I had them fixed, I would later cancel the coverage.

Thank Gaia I did! It ended up saving me hundreds of dollars because Nicor is only responsible for gas leaks and problems outside the house. Anything inside the house is the home owner's responsibility, and a service call to isolate a problem runs a bunch of money. The repairs must then be performed by an outside service person and usually cost an arm and a leg to boot.

Because of my gas leak insurance, I got free emergency "gas leak check" repair calls 24/7 (I ended up using this service twice, but more on time # 2 in the next posting), and any required repairs were performed immediately, for free. Really saved my butt, possibly the best five bucks I've ever spent!

But anyhow...a few days prior to this, my dad had been over and insisted again, quite vehemently, that he smelled gas. All of us -- me, my mom, even my electricians who were in the house eight hours a day for two weeks straight -- thought he was trippin' but I put in a call for a gas leak check anyway. The Nicor service guy came within ten minutes, and, to my surprise, it was the ever-ebullient Gary. He is Ayize's godfather Peter's brother-in-law (my electricians must think I know everyone in Evanston because strangely, this kind of thing kept happening to me).

Anyhow, after exchanging greetings and getting the low-down from one another on our home and family fronts, Gary set to work with his gas leak reader and, despite the fact that he too smelled nothing, his equipment was immediately able to confirm my dad's suspicions...there was a low-level leak coming from the connecting pipe that fed the stove.

The issue was not with the pipe, however -- it was with the ages-old stove, plus some denting and damage done to the pipe which made complete sealage impossible. And we couldn't even obtain the name of the make and model because the previous owner had painted over the stove's company name, and the serial tag inside the oven was impossible to make heads or tails out of after years of being charred. So my choices were to call Sears and have a general appliance repair done, which would probably run a few hundred dollars, especially given all the unknown factors. Or, I could spend a few hundred dollars and get a new, basic, safe stove. The choice was obvious!

Next stop: ABT Electronics in Glenview. Grandma and Grandpa came along for the ride, since I was in desperate need of any and all appliance advice.

Ayize trotted into the store, hot on their heels, eager for an adventure.

First thing we noticed was the smell. Hot damn, what's cookin?? It smelled like a dang Mrs. Field's up in there.

We followed our noses to this sign. Mmm. It was only 10:30 but we unanimously declared that we would get our free cookies in exactly one hour.

Then we were off to the home appliances section. It took ages and ages for someone to finally assist us -- I think we waited almost twenty minutes after being given the "someone will be right with you" spiel -- but it was well worth the wait, as our salesman, Jim Tatone helped us get a great deal.

Here's what happened: there were only two stoves to choose from in the three hundred dollar range, so I went up and down, studying them from every angle. Basic was fine by me, and actually, what I prefer (being a simple sort LOL) but the problem with both was that they were simply not very child-friendly. Neither had a strong oven door handle that would support a naughty, dangling boy; they both had toddler-accessible oven lights, which means that they would be switched on all the time by yonder young lad and quickly burn out; and they both had lightweight oven doors which a child could easily, and dangerously, open midway through a cooking job.

Our salesman came to the rescue by asking me specifics on what I wanted. "Easy to clean, easy to use, hard-to-open oven door, childproof burner controls, a sturdy oven door handle, and an out-of-reach oven light control," I quickly listed.

He immediately pointed to a stove about three up from the cheaper ones I'd been eyeing. I spotted the price tag -- $799 -- and shot back, "And under four hundred dollars."

"Hmmm. Not gonna happen," he replied. "But if you can go up to $430, I have an oven for you."

"Really?" This seemed too good to be true. "Which one?"

He gestured again to the same oven. If you take the floor model, we'll give it to you for $429." He pointed to some fine print below the price and there, in small letters, it did indeed state the floor model itself was for sale.

I was thrilled though a bit disappointed that it was black with charcoal gray burners. I had really wanted a white oven for my kitchen, knowing that a dark-colored oven would make the small space feel even more cramped. But for that price...a girl could compromise. Just then, another salesman walked up and snatched the price tag off the unit.

Jim shook his head. "Shoot, just sold. Sorry about that."

Well, now I was pissed. If we hadn't spent twenty minutes waiting on him, we would have chosen this oven ages ago and already been on our way home. He sensed my frustration and put up his hands in apology. "Sorry, guys, this one was my fault."

All my anger instantly evaporated and I felt bad for being so transparent and catty. "No problem, man," I said, and indicated the better of the two cheap ovens. "I'll just go with this one then."

"Well, hold on just a minute You really want this one, am I right?" and he motioned toward the SOLD sticker on the black floor model.

"I do," I quickly admitted. "Except in my heart of hearts, not that beggars can be choosers, but I wish it was white instead." I was embarrassed to be so demanding, but I figured it was better to come clean.

He actually brightened at this last comment, though, and turned on his heel, saying, "Then let me see what I can do. Gotta talk to my manager, be right back."

My parents and I managed to control Ayize's destructive impulses for the next few minutes (he wanted to hang off every oven door) while we awaited Jim's return. And then he was back, striding towards us triumphantly. "Done!"

"But how...?" I asked.

"We had a white one out as our floor model last week but switched this and a few others out for blacks and biscuits to show the different colors available. The white one is still sitting in the back, was only out on the floor a couple days, it's in perfect shape, instructions and all, only thing is it's out of the box, just like this floor model."

"And the price..." I faltered.

"$429."

I almost did my patented happy dance right there in the middle of the home appliance aisle.

But there was no time to celebrate just yet -- I also needed to buy an overhead vent because there was none in the house currently, a real fire hazard, and not up to today's code. I was able to get a Braun on sale for $89, a really nice one, matching color and look, with different vent strengths, a washable, reusable filter and an overhead light for my stovetop. I could not have been happier...or so I thought.

But when it came time to check out, my parents pulled out their wallet. They felt terrible about the gas leak and all the pain in the ass that it entailed, plus this unexpected financial setback -- I had never expected to have to replace a major appliance a few days into my home-owning experience -- and they were thrilled that I had managed to wrangle a new stove and a new vent at nearly half-off on both (though I could take no credit for the vent, it just happened to be on sale), so they were buying them for me as their joint housewarming gift!!!

I had wondered why they were so eager to join us on our ABT adventure. I've said it before and I'll say it again, better parents could not be had. Thank you, guys! I will think of you every time I cook a pizza!!

Anyhow, now that business was out of the way, we focused on pleasure.

Ayize was thrilled to suss out ABT's giant aquarium. He had to stand on tippy-toes and still couldn't get a good view...

...so Grandma and Grandpa lifted him up and sat him on the countertop. All three of them ogled the fish together and I surreptitiously snapped a shot of the moment.

"Feesh!"

This guy was one cool customer. He kept darting out for a peek and then popping back into his hidey-hole.

Ayize liked this dead, stuffed moray eel -- apparently a fella named RJ who had lived in the tank for 13 years and was a much-beloved presence, now forever preserved.

We were trying to remember where the cookies were when Ayize spotted the fountain leading to the atrium.

"Dis way, Papa!"

He was right! But before we could get cookies, we had to indulge his fountain joy...

...and his fascination with the giant marble runner...

...and the big interactive butterfly screen. Check out Grandpa's shadow. Cool!

Grandpa attracted many fluttering friends.

Ayize couldn't get any butterflies to "land" on his shadow because he could not stop trying to kiss them!

Finally, we got in line for our fresh-baked chocolate-chip cookies from the two ladies working the giant in-store kitchen. Delish!

Then back to the fountain, where Ayize crept closer. And closer. And closer.

And even hopped on it's perimeter ledge, though he promised not to jump in the water. I had my doubts...but he kept his word.

Next, he messed with Humpty Dumpty's bald pate. What an egghead! Yuk yuk yuk.

Finally, we were off.

Home again, home again, jiggety jig. Ayize crashed hard in the car on the way home. Mom and Dad offered to babysit him while he slept, and I headed to the house.

Finished measuring, cutting, and rounding the edges of my new stair grips.

Put out my new front door welcome mat.

Prepping to stick my safety grip stickies on. I swept the steps, then sprayed them with Seventh Generation, and scrubbed them as clean as I could get them with a rag. Dried them a second time with paper towels, let them air dry a few more minutes, and I was ready to roll.

Ta-da!

Weeman proudly presents our renovated stairs. Unfortunately, the roll only accommodated four out of the five steps. Plus, it only allowed for a single grip per step (ideally, I would have two, since my front steps get kinda slippery in wet weather. I blame the horrible, super-smooth epoxy finish somebody put over the old concrete steps once upon a time.)

But -- whatevs -- better than nothing!

Put out my back door welcome mat (I thought it highly appropriate for the garden-entry door).

Hung my old papier-mache fish on the back door where the previous owner had once hung her aquatic artwork.

In an awesome side note, she just emailed saying she was unpacking boxes and came across her back door fish. She was sad the movers had packed it; she knew I loved it and had intended for it to stay. She told me she was putting it in the mail to us right away so that it would be returned to its "rightful" place. Hooray!

Fittingly, the day she wrote that email, my painters accidentally left my papier-mache fish on the back porch (they had removed it when they were working on the back room). That night's heavy rainfall sadly reduced it into a soggy slab of cardboard. So I was especially excited about the previous owner's email!

Taped my new poster on the dining room wall to cover a major crack in the paneling, but I ended up liking its location so much that it will stay there permanently now that the walls have been fixed (more on that later).

Close-up of the poster. Cost me ten bucks at posterbrain.com -- but buyers beware! It's a one-time only special; future posters of this gynormous size will cost you close to forty bucks, so choose your one shot wisely!

Mine is a photo of Ayize that I took a couple months ago when we were in Sedona. He was smiling because he was threatening to jump off that rock, and I was telling him to go ahead. He did, and emerged unscathed (as I knew he would) but very proud of himself nevertheless for his death-defying feat -- a jump of approximately twenty inches, ha ha ha! Anyhow, believe it or not, our hotel was actually in the background, at the foot of that gorgeous canyon. Good times!

Hung my Van Gogh "The Cafe Terrace" poster. I love this painting; it always reminds me of this one wonderful night in Paris years ago, a street cafe, the stars, the night, the warm summer air, the people.

Anyhow, found this giant poster-sized wall decal at World Market and snapped it up. Measured its exact halfway point, marked it, and sliced it in two. Affixed the strips as carefully as I could, air bubbles be damned. I had no idea how hard those freaking things are to properly hang! (Look closely and you will see the marks of my many mistakes). Oh well, lesson learned for the next time...

By this time, Ayize had woken up. My mom was sweet enough to let me keep working, and she and the baby walked over to the house, slowly, which gave me even more time to finish up.

He arrived in high spirits and danced around his new bedroom showing off for Grandma, messing with the radio, and "watering" the floor.

Me. Getting in trouble. By The Coach.

Note his basketball whistle; he uses a firm toot to keep me in line when things get outta hand.

Share and share alike in our household.

"One for me; one for Weeman..."

I suggested that he not feed Weeman all his veggie booty and he quickly dropped the offending Snack Trap, turned on his heel, and marched off, innocently displaying his empty hands ("Who, me, Ma??") behind his back.

We left for home shortly after. End of a very productive day.

Woo hoo!