The Bathroom that almost never was...

We lived in an older house. I thought it was cute, we had some land, and it was secluded - things I now know my Moron loved in his attempt to isolate me. It had two bathrooms; a main one, and an en suite. The main bathroom was a very interesting one, that I am told was quite popular in the 70's. I have never seen this type before, so I just thought it weird. It was set up so that it was two separate rooms, with an adjoining door between. I think the idea being that one could have a shower, without hogging the whole bathroom, and someone else could use the toilet while having their privacy. A total waste of space, if you ask me.

Anyways, the plans since we bought the house, were to knock out the middle wall (and door between them) and make one big bathroom, with a beautiful tub and separate shower. The Moron did not like spending money, but many people agreed with me, that it would increase the property value of the house - so he relented.

In about my first trimester of pregnancy, the Moron tore down the wall. I was getting pretty excited as not only was I ecstatic about being pregnant, but I was going to get the bathroom of my dreams too. Well, you know how they say you shouldn't count your chickens until they're hatched...

Well, you shouldn't be happy about a bathroom until the walls are up, mudded, and the bathroom fixtures are back in. Which was going to be a long time....

I had this gorgeous claw foot tub in which I had shipped from home (I bought it at an auction, for peanuts) that I had refinished, including the original oak rim. This refinished tub had cost me a pretty penny, but I had saved for a looooong time. ANd I was so looking forward to a long soak in this gorgeous 6 foot tub. Everything was ready, except construction had stopped on my dream bathroom.

Being on sick leave and about 7 months pregnant, there wasn't a whole lot that I could do to help. Not to mention that I could barely see my toes anymore. The Moron got wind of how much this bathroom really meant to me, and how much I wanted to soak in that tub... suddenly he refused to do any of the labour and all of a sudden said that we didn't have any money to pay for the renovations.

Staring at the main bathroom (which at the moment looked like Wolverine had clawed it all to hell) I did what any self respecting, pregnant wife of a Moron would do. I started to cry. And after I dried my eyes, I pulled out all of my RRSP's and found the money to finish the renovations. I was on a time line, I did not want the drywall dust to be flying in the middle of winter when the baby was born, and certainly didn't want all this construction to be happening adjacent to her room.

Luckily the Moron worked 12 hour shifts, and had gone on a vacation for a couple of days, and a friend of the family helped with the drywall.  At 8 months pregnant I mudded and primed and painted that whole damn bathroom by myself, and pulled every single muscle in my stomach and abdomen doing it. But it was done!! I knew I would hear it from the Moron when he got back - but at least it would be done! And just for clarification, he was mad because I had enlisted the help of his sister's boyfriend to put the drywall up - it portrayed him as being less than perfect and unable to handle things himself. This was FAILURE in his eyes - the ultimate death. Promoting him as less than perfect to the world - was unforgivable, and always came with a price.

But I also got my bathroom, and to this day, I still think it is the reason that the house sold...