The walls are going up on our new home. It’s starting to become real now, even though we still have many months to go. Decisions have to be made.
I’ve never been good at making decisions. Especially making choices about things that we will live with for a very long time.
I know it’s probably weird that I often dread making decisions about my new house. Most people would probably enjoy the process of designing their living spaces from scratch if they got the chance. But for someone who doesn’t always know what she likes, and admittedly overthinks every choice, building a new house can be torture. There are decisions to be made in every single corner. Fixtures. Flooring. Cabinets. Knobs and drawer pulls. Countertops. Sinks. Appliances. Lighting. Paint colors. Window and door styles. Baseboard size. The texture of the walls. It’s insane. We’re not even to furniture and decoration yet. How is this fun for anyone??
Of course, I’m really, really grateful to have the opportunity to create this space for our son and for us, we are so lucky to be able to do this. It is exciting. But when my husband comes home and confesses he made a decision with the crew in the field without consulting me, I’m so happy. He gets me.
Especially because I’ve got to pick out stuff for two houses, our “family house” and our son’s attached apartment. Although we’ll try to include him in the process when we can, my son is also not one to make decisions easily or to comfortably choose anything that is new. He’d prefer things to stay exactly as they are forever, so it puts even more pressure on us to get his space “right” for him from the beginning.
Last week, my husband and I went to a showroom to pick out our plumbing fixtures. Even narrowing the field to the options within our budget, there are still way too many choices of faucets and handles and shower heads and sinks and toilets. Seriously, why are there so many options for toilets? We’re not even considering all of the high-end features people can buy these days. It’s a toilet. I want one that works, I don’t need fancy porcelain moldings or frilly features (wait, does it clean itself? No? Then never mind).
Besides, the “slow-closing” lid that apparently “many” people really like now would not work for my kid. I immediately think of the delay we endure every time we leave his speech therapist’s office. The lobby door has a safety hinge that closes oh-so-slowly, so when we go out, my son must stop outside and turn around to watch as the door creeps snaillike back into its frame. He absolutely must make sure it shuts before he will continue walking to the car.
So no, I’m not adding that wait time to his bathroom routine, much less create the very real possibility that with every toilet flush in the house, I’ll have a kid running into the bathroom to monitor the closing of the stupid-fancy lid. Nope. Just a regular toilet lid, thank you very much.
After pretending to bathe under shower heads to get the feel for removing and replacing the various “hand shower” options, the saleslady invited me to sit on the toilets in the showroom. I really didn’t want to do that. Isn’t “showering” in public enough? But apparently it’s not just the speed of the self-closing lids. It’s the height of the toilet (and I’m short, so…yeah) and the size and shape of the seat. She offered to sit next to me so I wouldn’t feel strange….Oh, because sitting on a toilet in the middle of a busy showroom, contemplating how well my tushy fits would be less awkward if I could also discuss how it feels with a stranger sitting on the next toilet. That’s fun.
As it turns out, I’m so glad I flushed my embarrassment and sat down anyway. The toilet that is “popular” right now had the most uncomfortable seat. My tushy would not be happy.
Although it did occur to me that an uncomfortable toilet seat would possibly shave some time off my son’s bathroom routine. Something to consider, perhaps?
Next up, appliances. Too many options here too. But at least it won’t be as awkward to pretend to use stovetops and dishwashers. Maybe I should bring my son so he can decide which refrigerator door feels most comfortable to hold open forever as he stands there deciding what to eat.