My second husband, Wayne, had custody of his 2 children when we met and I have helped him raise them since the oldest, a girl, Tori, was 13 and our oldest boy, Justin, was 10. My son Brandon was 8 when all 5 of us moved in together into our 100 year old Victorian, 3 bedroom, 2 bathroom home. We live in a small city in eastern Iowa, just three blocks from the Mississippi River. I mention the age and size of the house because at many points in the last 11 years of my life this house became the bane of my existence.This house was a work in progress when I moved in, with the second floor being almost completely gutted and unused for many years. Adding to that, the first time I entered the house, one would have thought it would belong on the show Hoarders! I spent 8 hours the first day cleaning the front sitting room, which my husband had been using as a bedroom (and I use that term loosely as he slept on a couch) for the last 5 years. When I happened upon the downstairs bathroom, which is located under the stairs, I noticed immediately that there was no door. In fact I thought perhaps there was just a random shower in there since the only privacy to be had was a shower curtain hanging in the door frame. Wayne is quite a modest man so his first order of business was to get an actual DOOR put on that bathroom. I have to say it was quite a fiasco! He and a friend purchased a pre-hung door from the local home improvement store and started what should have been an hour job. Let me tell you NOTHING is square in a 100 year old house. NOTHING is STANDARD size in a 100 year old house. So the one hour job became a half a day project. Of course the door did not fit exactly right in the opening, I mean how could I expect that ANYTHING would go smoothly. So the door molding was removed (some did not survive the removal process as it was so old and dry, not to mention they used humongous nails instead of finishing nails to put it up once upon a time) and then the attempts to square up the door frame and align the doorknob holes up so that once a door knob was put on it would latch were met with much frustration. At long last we no longer had just a crappy, blue shower curtain with a ruffle to give us privacy in the only working bathroom, we had a DOOR! There were tears of joy in my eyes... or sawdust... but either way we were somewhat happy. There was still the issue of no molding. IF one wanted to, one could look in between the opening and the frame of the door to spy on whomever was sitting upon the porcelain throne. Since we had 2 young boys who LOVED to get into trouble together and a teenage girl, whom to this day is extremely private, we felt that they would be better off at Grandma Jean's for the duration of the impromptu remodel. He did put up the piece of molding on the side of the door that exposed the toilet several weeks later. I will add that we purchased an unfinished door; Wayne wanted to stain and seal it to maintain the natural wood look instead of paint. The day this door was installed was the day after Thanksgiving 1999... it is still unstained and the molding still not completely done.
I thank God everyday for my mother-in-law, Grandma Jean, as most everyone calls her. She had been helping Wayne with the two kids for many years. He was a single dad, working graveyard shift, so the children lived with her mostly. She was gracious enough to take in my little guy too until the house was habitable for everyone. Jean is only about 5'2", smokes like a chimney, cusses like a sailor, protects her grandchildren like a mother bear with a cub and takes NO prisoners. She has this way of putting you in your place with just a look and can put the fear of God into most anyone. However, she will take in any stray (I lived in her basement for a couple of weeks after I split from my first husband and I wasn't the first nor was I the last) and she will give you her last nickel (but not her last cigarette as Justin learned very recently LOL) and the shirt off her back (provided her robe is handy! She is quite modest as well.) Everyone respects her like none other I have ever seen. She is the Matriarch of our family without a doubt. I would sleep with one eye open if I ever even THOUGHT about crossing her. As much as we drive each other crazy sometimes she has become one of my best friends and substitute mother, as mine lives so far away.
Well tomorrow is another day and another story... we move on to the kitchen to clean next...
