Falling to Pieces. Not me, my house.

I wasn’t going to write about this on here. It seems like all I talk about in real life and bringing it to the blog felt like the wrong venue. Then I had a conversation with a friend and I realized that our home is a part of our family’s history and it does deserve to be documented here. 

 Let me start from the beginning.

I planned a party for Lilly’s birthday against my better judgement. I planned it because my mother demanded I throw a party. After I told her when to come and invited people, she told me she couldn’t come until the next weekend. Ugh. So I was planning a party anyway. 

Party day came and all was perfect. Everyone had a great time despite the frigid temperature and snow on top of more snow. My baby was going to be one!

Cue the next weekend and my mom’s questionable decision to come to Buffalo in the worst month of the year (from San Diego, no less). She was horrified and amazed at the 12-foot snow piles at the side of the road and how “everything is closed! Even BINGO!”

By the Sunday of her visit, we were all feeling pretty cooped-up. Stanley kept peeing in the house (as usual). After what the hubs thought was another Stanley puddle dripped on his head, he looked up and realized the horrible truth: we have a leak. 

But here’s the thing: for most people this wouldn’t be a problem. They would call their insurance company and get the snow off the roof and roll with it. I panic and the hubs avoids. That’s how we roll. After consulting several rational people, I put in an insurance claim in case we couldn’t afford the work. 

The guys came and removed the ice dams on the back of the house and we were a cool $1000 poorer. 3 hours later… Crash! There went the kitchen ceiling. Hello, attic floor!

But we all know the story doesn’t end there.  So, the hubs cleaned up the mess and we chalked it up to waterlogged plaster that was heated with steam to remove the dams. Understandable. At least now we could get on the books for an estimate to dry the attic and repair the water damage (we are still not on these mysterious “books”).

This is the girls’ playroom. Where we keep their toys. Where they happily frolic while the hubs and I get ready for work in the mornings. And now they can’t play there. My living room looks like this:


It’s making me a little nuts, you guys!

Now here we are two weeks later in the midst of a two day heat wave where we have actually had some melt. So, of course we sprung a leak in the front entryway. Pouring water for about an hour last night. Thankfully it stopped. 

We still aren’t scheduled for an estimate. It get wont even do any work until the snow is off the roof. I’m hoping one day I’ll look back on this month of torture and laugh, but for now… I just want to burn it to the ground.