If you’re following my stories on Instagram, you know we’ve discovered a leak in our Master Bathroom. If you’re not following my Instagram stories, you and this bathroom can take a long walk. Ha! So technically, we knew there was once a leak and thought it was repaired. Then last week, I was working in the kitchen when I heard a drip in our adjoining family room. After scrambling around for twenty minutes to locate a towel, I sat back down at the kitchen table and began drawing giant Xs over my To-Do List. All of my plans for my future life in this home having been ruined in the previous half hour, I sat and cried. Okay, so I didn’t sit. I didn’t cry. I laughed manically at the timing and then grabbed my phone and recorded a Story Tour of the clusterfromp that is my life. 

It may seem that I’m being a little dramatic here. But I assure you – I am not. I am never dramatic nor am I ever truly here. I’m usually ballroom dancing with fabric swatches and paint samples in the frantic abyss that is my mind. If you see me in public, please know that I am very interested in what you have to say but I can’t focus on any of it because I’m busy designing your unborn child’s nursery based on the inspiration I’ve gleaned from the color of your lipstick. If you tell me you need something, I always try my best to provide it but I’ll probably forget because I went to the store and the flowers were exactly that shade of dusty coral you were wearing the first time we met and you just had to have them.

All of this is to say – inside my head, there is chaos and I rarely settle it.  The night of the Epic Bathroom Drip, I’d finally wrapped my brain around all of my impending tasks. I’d made a list of rooms in my home, with bulletpoints for every tweak or major overhaul that was necessary for me to consider it a completed project. This bathroom was, of course, on the list. But I’d also managed to prioritize the rooms and projects, based on severity of the room’s malfunction and the probability that its unfinished state will terrify our guests. Since guests don’t frequently tour my private quarters and it was a relatively functional room (albeit dated and boring), the master bathroom fell to the literal bottom of the list. 

So why did everything have to be rewritten just because of a little leak? That’s a perfectly normal question and I pondered it myself. Even if there’s a leak, the bathroom can just be “closed for serious business only” until I feel like allocating the funds and energy, right? Nope. I’m not the only person who uses that bathroom. My wife’s patience with the lack of appropriate storage in the vanity and adjoining closet was already waning. The idea of having to share a shower with peasants (our child and guests) just tipped her right over the edge.

We’re a 50/50 household. We made an agreement early in our marriage that we would both be happy in our home. Which means we don’t make decisions about the home without consensus. I’m a decorator and I’m *pretty good* at convincing clients to see my vision. Most of the time, Christine’s a client and she dutifully  respects my vision. This time, she won because she’s right. Every home we’ve remodeled has had a terrible master bathroom that has always been avoided until the month before we list for resale. We pay this mortgage. We deserve to love our space as much as our guests and child love their allocated spaces. So Master Bathroom Renovation, here we come! And if it has to happen, I may as well get excited, amiright? I’ll get to the current state of the room in a minute but first, here’s what I’m thinking (affiliate links included). 

I know all of this looks a little crazy right now, but you’ll come around. I want this room to feel completely different from its current state. Which is just bland. It’s white. ALL WHITE. And I love white bathrooms, but this one is dated and 1990s and suburban. Of course, that can easily describe our entire home (with the exception of the three rooms we’ve redecorated already). But this room is especially that. 

First off, this is the entrance to the bathroom. Through tiny double doors. At first, I was a little charmed by them, but they take up a ton of visual space in the bedroom. I think I’d like to replace them with one pocket door. That will cut down on the amount of floor space this bathroom takes up before you even enter it. Also, let’s just all agree that I need to find a better solution for our robes. Okay, I’m lying. Both of these are mine. The grey one was a Christmas gift for Christine from her mother a few years ago but she never used it and my terrycloth robe is really. heavy. so I stole the grey one. Nix one robe. Find a new spot for the remaining robe. 

When you enter the room, you see it’s been divided into two parts – the right side and the left side. To your right, you have a double vanity. I love that it has double sinks already, even if they’re ugly. The World’s Largest Vanity Light is directly above The World’s Largest Single Mirror. The vanity has no drawers. There’s a medicine cabinet adjacent to the mirror (also mirrored and not pictured). The fixtures are all ready cheap. I’m guessing the original owners replaced brass fixtures at some point in the early 2000s, but didn’t want to spend more than $15 on a faucet, so that’s what we’re working with. Very contractor grade, head to toe. 

To the left, you’ll note a giant garden tub. I feel bad about hating this tub because I know the woman who had it installed felt utter joy and delight at having such a luxurious bathing setup. It’s a jetted garden tub, which were all the rage in the early aughts. I can imagine she felt like a queen, taking long sips of Arbor Mist while aerated water assaulted her ankles and ribs. It’s made of plastic, you guys. And then, if that’s not ugh enough for you, at some point someone attempted to “refinish” the tub. You can’t refinish a plastic tub. Those kits are made for porcelain. Also, just don’t. Leave refinishing tubs and tile to the professionals. A professional would have told you those kits weren’t made for plastic. The jets also skeeve me out. I know a little water stays in those lines every time someone drains it. Then that water gets recycled into my next bath. With whatever was also growing in those lines. Gag. My mother-in-law ran three cycles of bleach water through the jets when we first moved in and I still can’t bring myself to take a bath in that cesspool. Jetted tub has gotta go. Make way for soaker tub. Because I really do deserve a nice bath. 

Directly behind the tadpole sanctuary is a shower stall that is approximately six inches wide on each side. I hate it. I truly loathed it before I even realized it would one day crush all of my hopes and dreams. It actually looks a lot larger than it actually is. Shaving is impossible in this thing. The showerhead is impossibly high up. I actually can’t even reach it without stepping onto the tips of my toes. It’s a barre class but with a slippery floor to make it fun! I started using our guest bathroom for showers months ago because stepping on rubber ducks and foam alphabets is still somehow more efficient than trying to shower in this stall. It truly sucks. 

Directly across from the shower stall, and separated from the vanity by a knee wall, is the toilet. It does toilet things. But there’s not a lot of space for storage. Unless you consider that towel bar above the toilet to be storage. I do not. We’ve never placed a single towel there. I’d like to tear out the knee wall and open this space up to the rest of the room. Sure, a little privacy is nice, but there are two doors, remember? And since we’re talking functionality – 

Ahh.. sandwich bags full of pills. How can anything possibly get better than that? We need drawers and some better dedicated space for small items. A shoebox with curling irons and a hair dryer isn’t really cutting it. We also need to determine a better space for housing bath linens. I have a few ideas for this, but I’m mostly at a loss since Christine informed me that nixing a shower altogether in order to steal more space for the closet was a no-go. Any ideas? Do you like the tile I’m loving? I’ve ordered samples of the tile below and will let you know when it arrives. Probably on an InstaStory.

I know I sound bitter. I still kind of am. But I’m also starting to get really excited about the prospect of having a brand new bathroom by the end of the year. I’m even more excited to share it all with you guys. 

xoxo
Teri