Well, I’ve been ‘fraid of changin’
‘Cause I’ve built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Even children get older
And I’m gettin’ older, too
— from “Landslide”
by Stevie Nicks
The day she turned 26 years old, our “baby” spent the evening tearing out an old drop ceiling in her kitchen. As the little bits of ancient plaster and mouse poop rained down upon her, she grinned and said, “I love my house.” We never doubted we had brought the correct baby home but that sealed it.
Are old souls born or made? I’m not sure, but I have two of them, so I’d like to take some of the credit regardless of whether their intrepid prowess is due to nature or nurture.
BoyWonder is 27 years old with approximately 25 years of construction experience, much of it against his will. Children learn when playing, and he spent so many years banging around with an ever-growing collection of tools that he became quite adept at renovation.
He spent the weekend his baby sister moved climbing up and over, under and around. He carried and carted and climbed. It was glorious. I was very proud when an onlooker said, “Oh, that was easy!” to one of his projects of the day, and her companion said, “No, he just made it look easy.” I love a capable (adult) child.
GirlWonder is a delightful and charming social extrovert who also knows her way around a nerdy deep dive into historical society records. Before the deed on their historic home was even recorded she was already a card-carrying member of her county’s historical society. She is in contact with the descendants of former owners and eagerly awaits the photographs and stories they graciously share with her.
I know past birthdays were spent engaging in athletic or aesthetic endeavors with many friends. A quarter century behind her, and this birthday was spent with a ladder, pry bar, work gloves and a can-do attitude. It was glorious. It also certainly proves that children do indeed “get older.”
Landslide is realizing I am suddenly the parent of people who have concerns about interest rates and strong opinions about refinishing hardwood flooring. For the record, we all agree it is an abysmal process but also worth it.
GirlWonder has kept her ability to laugh intact. As she noted recently, she can be mortally offended that someone would insinuate they overpaid for their property and, in the next breath say, “but anyway I need a dumpster for all the debris I’m hauling out of here, and does anyone know how to get snakes out of a basement?” It’s a balance.
Seriously though, about the snakes? Anyone know? We all reside in beautiful homes surrounded by nature. The thing about living surrounded by nature is that everything in “nature” wants to live with you.
No one really tells you outright that owning a house is basically just a lifelong game of “What is that noise?” “Does that seem wet to you?” “Do you smell that?” This will be followed by the immediate concern of “How much will this cost?”
I am also aging, per the song lyrics. As it turns out, one cannot have a 27-year-old child and also claim to be 28 years old herself. I know, I tried.
I find myself starting projects I have completed before. Mr. Wonderful, watching me scrape layer upon layer of wallpaper and paint off a plaster wall, was amazed. “It seems like only yesterday you were swearing that with GOD as your witness, you would never strip wallpaper again!” He is correct, I did say that.
I can now safely say there are exactly two humans on earth who could bring me out of wallpaper-removal and hardwood- floor-refinishing retirement. It is not a coincidence that I gave birth to both of them.
I really think some of these projects are like childbirth. I forgot the reality of the pain involved until I had already started again, and it was far too late to back out. Just like childbirth, I also wake up sore, tired and fully aware it is 100% worth it.
