Ask any parent. Once you have a baby, your life is not your own. As a mother, I understand this. And as a homeowner, I understand it all the more.
Five months ago, my husband & I adopted a baby. His name is The Dole House. And although 250 years old, he is every bit a clapboard clad toddler w/a perpetually leaky diaper. He whines, he cries. He begs to be changed. And much like our other babies, he has taken everything we’ve had to give and more. When we first moved in, I felt as if I’d been swallowed whole, and now, five months later, I am still being digested. Like parenthood, the process of restoring and updating such an old house is time intensive, financially draining, emotionally wrenching and physically demanding. It has consumed us completely, often to the point of near exhaustion. But, on occasion, much like parenthood, the moments of gut-busting angst give way to feelings of great accomplishment. Like now. As I present our new Dining Room.
