For years, we’ve talked about upgrading our kitchen. I have a pinterest board bursting with marble countertops and gleaming cooktops. We’ve replaced tired appliances one at a time as they’ve died, but we had yet to take the full leap. Until today.
Let’s look back about
ten years ago. I was living with a roommate in a tiny apartment outside Boston,
MA. Some friends of ours with a much better apartment were moving, and we
wanted their place. Like all good Boston real estate, so did at least three
other people. And it was up to a mysterious board with undefined criteria to
make the decision. So for a few days, we waited with fingers crossed. And as a
just-in-case consolation prize, I bought a fancy shower curtain for the old
apartment. One I knew we wouldn’t need in the new apartment. Within hours of
bringing that non-returnable shower curtain into the old apartment, we learned
we’d gotten the new one.
 |
| That pesky burner |
Last week, the
finicky front burner on our stove became especially finicky and I finally got
frustrated enough to look into replacing it. Sure enough, for about $20 on
Amazon you can buy a replacement coil that will probably fit and hopefully
work. So I ordered one. Within an hour, the email came from Sears: All
cooktops, ranges and wall ovens are 50% off!
Plus, bring all the assorted points and coupons you’ve ever accumulated
from the other stuff you’ve bought with us! Come one, come all! Come, Baron family!
It had to be a
sign. I went to Sears, and three days later I’m spending the afternoon with
contractors watching dust fly and sparkly new appliances replace all the
remaining old ones. Because Sears is no
fool - once you’re in the store and there’s a big sale on stuff you’ll
eventually buy anyway, you’re not just buying a cooktop.
 | ||
| During |
 |
| Amelia and my mother, hard at work |
So this is
exciting, but it’s also a little bit scary.
Growing up, my mother was always in the kitchen. She loved to cook,
but I think she also just loved the kitchen. It was her domain. My mother hung out
in there, irrelevant of mealtimes. She kept everything in the kitchen:
notecards, permission slips, medical records, medication, a bag of bicentennial
coins, broken toys, presents, wrapping paper, stamps, office supplies, phone
books, lost pieces of everything, a needle and thread, magazines, and much
more. Oh – and also food. It was chaotic, crowded, and she was in charge.
Efficiency, jokes, big decisions, surprises, meals, homework help and banana
bread were served in equal portions from that tiny kitchen. It was bustling,
familiar, and open 24 hours.
The kitchen is the
heartbeat of our house too. It’s not quite as crowded or chaotic as I remember
from childhood, but it’s definitely the hub of activity. It can’t be too fancy, because we live there.
We spill glitter and carve pumpkins and paint in there. Amelia learned to crack an egg over the old stove. The old kitchen was comfortable, broken in. But also
broken. So why am I suddenly feeling nostalgic about a finicky burner? Things
change, and in the grand scheme of things, new appliances are not that big a change.
Right?
Just to make sure,
I made banana bread as soon as the contractors left. And Amelia and I made
Halloween cookies after school. And there are meatballs simmering on the stove.
Smells familiar.
Welcome home, new
kitchen!
Want more Mess? Visit my blog over at Charlotte Parent Magazine, or drop by my Etsy store, Made by Mommy!
