Bathrooms and Wedding Gifts

You know how couples sometimes exchanges gifts on their wedding day? You've seen pictures of the bride trying not to smear her makeup while she clasps her new bracelet, and likewise, the groom wipes away a tear as he opens his monogramed cuff-links, because we all know cuff-links are one of the main reasons guys spend years dreaming of their wedding day. Well, believing Jordan wasn't aware of this, I took it upon myself to inform him of this lovely tradition a month before we were married. And on the eve of our wedding, he gave me the most beautiful pearl ring. I'd always wanted a pearl ring and I wore it down the aisle. I gave him two rock climbing harnesses because his love language is me participating in sports with him. He didn't wear his down the aisle.

What I didn't know was that Jordan had been secretly designing another gift long before I mentioned wedding presents. While I was finishing our wedding plans in Chicago, he was living in our rental house in Denver and building me a tub room. Jordan knew my deep love for taking baths, as well as my weakness for claw-foot tubs and had purchased one off Craigslist. He braved the creepy warehouse near the stockyards where it was stored, managed to get the 200 pound behemoth down the stairs by himself by rigging a pulley system with the backyard tree and a rope, and survived the great flood of 2011 that occurred in our basement when the plumbing went awry. And all because he loves me.

And yes, I did say rental house. We never mentioned to our landlord that in addition to painting a few rooms, we'd also installed a tub, and I lived in constant fear of him showing up wanting to inspect something in the basement. But somehow he found out. Before we moved, he casually mentioned, "Oh, and I heard something about a bath tub in the basement. You're gonna take that out, right?" Of course we weren't going to leave my wedding present in the basement for his next renters. However, the pulley system wasn't going to cut it for hauling the tub up the stairs, and I probably owe the sweet guys in our small group thousands of dollars in chiropractic bills for carrying it out for us. Oh, and for carrying the armoire. And moving the piano. Twice. I have a penchant for ridiculously heavy furniture. Thanks, guys.

So we moved, and the tub room was no more. But the claw-foot was about to find a brand new home in our 1890's Victorian, only a few blocks away. This is the story of our very first bathroom remodel in our very first house. 

Below is the bathroom the first time I set eyes on it. I wish you could smell it. Let it be known that the first time we walked through this house I told Jordan, "I could never live here." And this bathroom was a major factor in that decision. However, a few days later, we put an offer in, and became the owners of this lovely space.

If you're wondering where your legs are supposed to go when you're sitting on the toilet, the answer of course, is inside the tub, which is a minor drawback. But, on the plus side, you can get started washing your hands while you're still on the pot, as the sink is conveniently close. Just make sure not to jab your ribs against the corner. The only aspect of this bathroom that I actually liked was the red rug with a little Scotty dog. Jordan wouldn't let me keep it, though. I think he burned it.

This is a view of the bathroom after Jordan took everything out. Including the floors. I didn't know you could remove the floors. How silly of me, thinking that was an integral part of the construction. Notice, it was a Jack and Jill style bathroom, meaning there were two entrances, coming from each of the bedrooms. We ended up closing off the door to the second bedroom, to give us more space inside the bathroom.

Living in a house without a bathroom takes some creativity. I'm happy to report that I never resorted to peeing in the backyard, though I can't say the same for everyone in our household. We were really only without a flushing toilet for a couple days. We had several weeks without a shower, though, so I decided it was a good time to join the local gym. When they wanted to know why I was joining, I had them check the box for the yoga classes, since I didn't see one that said "showering facilities".

Growing up, my great-grandmother had black and white checkered tiles in her kitchen and since I am obsessed with style from the 1930s, I obviously wanted to incorporate them into our house. This bathroom was the perfect place. That man is Mr. Luby, and he and his wife are the most generous people I've ever met. He came over and showed me how to cut and lay tile. And after I'd laid three, he did the rest. 

But I did all the grout!

It's a really messy job. Not for the faint of heart.

Once we had floors again, Jordan stuck the fixtures back in. And I quit my gym membership.

Then he put in a beautiful wainscoting wall. And I painted it, because that and photographing our progress are my main contributions to our remodels.

He stuck some crown molding around the ceiling to be fancy. And I painted it.

And he textured the walls with plaster, to match the rest of the house. And I painted them.

We chose a fresh, minty green for the walls. (And we threw in a charming goodwill nightstand to pile all of our extra bathroom stuff on while we contemplated purchasing some sort of shelving unit.)

 

The window needed a bit of attention, and the aforementioned, amazing Luby family came over one night and scraped all the old gunky paint off the trim and the glass.

And I painted it.

This was the sink we inherited, and I had grand plans of painting the wood black and calling it a day.

But Jordan, meanwhile, had bought a child's dresser off Craigslist, cut a hole in the top and turned it into the most beautiful sink vanity in history. He painted the counter top black using water resistant spraypaint and he cut out the middle of the top two drawers to make room for the bowl.

And tada! The finished product. 

My claw-foot tub now dwelt in beautiful new quarters, no longer living in fear of getting evicted by the landlord. It was freshened with a creamy coat of white paint, and a fancy removable shower head.

Sadly, we had to leave it behind when we went to Germany. It was goodbye forever, since we ended up selling the house. I took a final, so long soak, reminiscing on all the Mr. Selfridge episodes and Real Simple magazines and long talks on the phone with friends that that bathtub had seen me through...How many tiring school days on my feet had been turned around with a quiet evening in the bubble bath with a book and a lit candle.

I'll miss that claw-foot tub. But the good news is, the traditional 6 year wedding anniversary present is iron, and I'm pretty sure cast-iron counts, too, so hopefully I'll have another claw-foot before too long. Though, knowing Jordan, I'm sure he's already working on something better.