Happy Final Inspection Day! -- Finished Basement Pictures

Normally I have a lot to say, and over time I'll come back to some details I haven't covered yet. But, for today I'll let the pictures speak for themselves.

Cards and Brownies for Final Inspection Day

Stairs

Craft Closet

Main Room



Around the Bend

Walk-In Closet (color is off)

Bathroom Door

Bathroom

Tub & Shower

Other Direction in Main Room (and playing baby)



Floor Shot

 What a difference six weeks makes!

Basement Paint Palette--Brand and Colors

As if choosing paint colors isn't hard enough, there's the whole question of which brand of paint to choose. Most of our main floor is done with Olympic from Lowe's. This is a zero VOC paint that is very affordable (under $20 per gallon) and can match any color. That said, it is only zero VOC in the base paint, the pigment does contain VOCs.  For the basement project, we wanted to something with  zero VOC base and pigment, and optimally a paint that was overall less chemical and formaldehyde-laden. There are options like milk paint, but that is the kind of product I would want to experiment with myself on a small job before spending big bucks to have professionals paint it over a large area.  So, we looked at what Amicus sells to start our search, but decided to go with a brand that was available closer to our home so if our team needed to run out and get more, it wouldn't be a long, gas-expending hassle. One brand that Amicus sells is American Pride. It turns out that Mythic Paint is also made by the same company, and Mythic is available at Ace Hardware, which is just down the road from us. From looking at the Material Safety Data Sheets (MSDS) for each, they seems to be the same product, just marketed differently. We loved that Mythic can  match any color while still remaining zero VOC in the base and pigment.

At about $50 a gallon or $215 for five gallons for the Mythic Classic line, this is no bargain paint. But, we felt that it was worth it. Our team is well underway with painting and we have so appreciated that there is almost no smell. Not only will this benefit our family's indoor air quality both now and down the line, we are happy that it facilitates a pleasant and safe working environment for our crew . I should ask them how they think application and coverage compares to other brands.

To help us pick colors, we checked out a fan deck from Ace Hardware so we could look at Mythic's 1,232 colors in our own space. To check it out, we bought it, but we can use it and then return it for all of our money back. I am so grateful that Ace offers this service!

Now, on to the colors!

Click to see a larger image

 

Main Room:
We decided to pick a wool rug as our starting point and then design the wall colors around that. After looking at over 9,000 wool rugs online (yes, I am picky when it comes to rugs), we settled on an orange one from Overstock.

To complement it, we chose:
Banister Beige (Eggshell) - Walls
Navale (Eggshell) - Accent Wall
Trim (Semi-Gloss) - Warm Welcome

Bathroom
Our inspiration for the bathroom was the glass accent tile we selected for the shower (which deserves a whole post of its own): Piedmont from Florida Tile's Harmony line as well as the Jovi Home Woodland shower curtain and rug we've already purchased.

For paint, we went with:
Antiqua (Semi-Gloss) - Walls
Warm Welcome (Semi-Gloss) - Trim

Walk-In Closets
Pale Blossom (Eggshell) - Walls
This was originally our trim color for the main room and bathroom, but it turned out looking like a very pale electric green in our space. It was odd out there, but we kept it in the walk-in closets hoping that it will keep them looking bright and cheery.

Basement Insulation Options: Rockwool Rocks!

Last week we got insulation. Not only were we thrilled about not having cold feet anymore (the empty ceiling in the basement leads to a chilly floor upstairs), but this also was a huge milestone because it meant that we'd passed some big inspections. Since insulation (and then drywall) covers up the plumbing, electrical, and framing work, the fire inspector had to come and approve everything done so far, first.

The boys celebrate insulation day

Choosing a green insulation was a decision that flummoxed us. While soil is nature's built-in insulator for basements, and the cinder block that our house is made of also contributes R-value (measure of thermal resistance), we wanted additional insulation  to make our space cozy. Choosing insulation proved to be a challenging decision, as there are differing opinions on what  is greenest that works for a subgrade basement. Our research led us to these finalists:

Fiberglass- This "pink stuff" is all I knew of when I started. This is bad stuff to breathe in, but the continuous roll version, for use in walls, comes lined with paper that makes it cleaner. Plus, I learned that there are some greener options that are very low VOC and are partially made from recycled materials. Owens Corning EcoTouch is formaldehyde free, 58% post-consumer recycled content, comes in many great R-values, and is very affordable. I felt good about going this route as long as we used this brand. Alas, at the DC Green Festival, I heard the owner of Amicus Green Building Center speak and he pointed out that while some fiberglass may be greener, it is not green. It's that whole idea that not bad and good are two different things. It was a wake up call to me that in terms of cubic inch, insulation will be the highest volume of a single product that we have in our basement. I decided that this needed to be a splurge area in not only for indoor air quality but also in terms of production. Fiberglass was out.

Foam- Foam insulation can be sprayed in or installed in sheets. I was leery of these from the start as they are made from polyurethane and thus petrochemicals. Since we live a minimal-plastic/synthetics lifestyle, this just was contrary to all that we've already worked for in our house. Production and disposal are red flags; in the case of a fire, foam is toxic if burned. In terms of indoor air quality, foam is a mixed bag. Open cell vs. closed cell foam still confuses me a bit, but here is what I think I've got right from asking loads of questions to contractors and the Amicus folks. Open cell foam is better in terms of off-gassing because it only off-gasses ammonia. However, it takes longer to off-gas than closed-cell foam does, and it is not a popular choice for subgrade spaces. Closed-cell foam has an initial burst of off-gassing, but then it is done. It also has a better r-value per square inch than open-cell. In our brief foray into considering foam, we looked at GreenGuard certified Owen Cornings Foamular (rigid closed-cell foam boards) as well as spray foam. Ultimately, I just couldn't get on board with this, despite talking about it with vendors at the DC Green Festival and talking to a green contractor who closed cell spray foam in his own basement.

Wool- Yes, the stuff from sheep. We are a bit wool-obsessed at our house right now: wool rugs, wool dryer walls, wool sweaters, wool pants, wool diaper covers. So, why not wool insulation? Just like how wool clothing keeps you cool in the summer and warm in the winter, wool insulation does the same for a house. It can absorb a huge amount of moisture (though hopefully a house isn't very moist) without any thermal change. It is fire-safe, like all insulation must be, and it is inhospitable to vermin. This is a very attractive option, but we didn't feel like we knew enough about it for a sub-grade space and, even with splurging on insulation, we wanted a cheaper option. I would consider it for our attic, someday, though! Learn more about it, here.

Rockwool- This innovative insulation is made from volcanic basalt rock, abundant in the earth, and slag, a byproduct of the steel and copper industry. The materials are spun into fibers that resemble wool and made into batts or boards. (The boards are brand new to the US.) It is breathable (yay for good air quality), but cannot absorb moisture. If it gets wet, the water just drips right off. Mold cannot grow on rockwool. Rockwool does not off-gas and they are non-combustible, in the case of fire. Its R-value is competitive with fiberglass, but it shines above it because of the eco-friendliness of production. It also provides better sound-proofing than synthetic insulations. While it is more expensive than fiberglass, it is not prohibitively expensive. This was our winning material! Check it out in our house:

We were expecting Roxul Comfort Batt, but our contractor's supplier sent Roxul Acoustical Fire Batt (AFB)  instead. I only noticed the alternative product when posting the picture below to this blog entry and then freaked out because the insulation had already been encased by drywall, which had already been mudded and sanded. Needless to say, we had a very stressful 16  hours before we got in touch with the supplier, the inspector, and  Roxul's customer service. I learned that Comfort Batt is more commonly used for residential projects these days, as it is a newer product better sized for the way US houses are framed. AFB is the same material, it just needs to be cut more to fit interior framing widths. Comfort Batt placed on exterior walls typically gets a vapor barrier on the interior wall, but the AFB does not include that in their instructions. Because the Northern Virginia climate does not get frigidly cold, we are comfortable with having no vapor barrier.  Our contractor learned that the inspectors had also been held up on this issue and talked with Roxul before issuing approval. Ah, the joys of using products that aren't rare, but aren't common either.

 

The picture that struck fear in our hearts.

AFB has an R-value of 4.1 per inch of thickness. That is a well-insulated basement when you add up all the components, which is a good thing since putting in ample ductwork for HVAC wasn't in the budget.


Birth Story: Baby E

Our dear E is six months old today!

Here is the story of his birth:

Wednesday and Thursday, August 1-2, 2012
39 weeks pregnant

On Wednesday, I took V out for some fun at Fairfax Corner and he played in the spray area, then we got caught in a big, neat thunderstorm. That evening, I started having contractions. Many were about 10 min apart, but others were longer or shorter. It was over 5 hours of that. I sat at my desk at home and furiously tried to knock everything off my “do before maternity leave” list for work. I would pause to relax and breathe through the contractions, but apparently that wasn’t relaxation enough because the next day, I just couldn’t bounce back. So, I took off from work, sent V to be with my dad and stepmom, and spent the day in bed (save for an encouraging lunch visit from Jill and kids).

Friday and Saturday, August 3-4

On Friday, we went to a mid-day appointment with the midwives. It was time to broach the question of if I should keep working. Obviously walking, working, etc. was exhausting me into contractions, but yet I didn’t want to be sitting around waiting for two weeks for labor to start if I went to 42 weeks. One of the staff, Marina, a mama of ten kids, reminded me that it wouldn’t serve me well to use my energy on working all weekend only to go into labor exhausted. Midwife Mayanne agreed. She also confirmed that baby was still occiput posterior (OP) (face up) despite all of my swimming and chiropractic adjustment. I realized at some point that I was going to be plagued with back labor once again and that’s all there was to it. A few weeks earlier, I had been in tears about the prospect of another OP labor, but now I was armed with a “can do” attitude towards a very long, hard labor.

As someone who prided myself in my “work until the end” mentality, I knew stopping work was the right thing to do, but I ended up deciding to go in for one hour on Saturday to run a rehearsal. When I went in for that hour, any hesitation I had about stopping work went away. As soon as I stepped in the church, contractions started again. That building, for as much as I love it, is just physically hard on my body with the unyielding concrete floor. I pushed through that final hour and then went home committed to truly relaxing through the contractions and saving my mental and physical strength.

Sunday, August 5

On Sunday, contractions woke me up at about 5am and continued all day. I heeded the wisdom learned from Wednesday and stayed in bed. I relaxed through them and napped, I wrote a couple of babywearing blog posts, and I did stuff on the computer from bed. I used lavender essential oil to encourage a calm environment. I napped. The contractions were persistent, but not consistent in terms of time, and by 3pm I was feeling irritated and bored, despite knowing that all of this had value. Dave’s parents joked about how their food put me in labor with V, and we accepted their invitation to dinner. The contractions continued through the meal, now at a pace of every ten minutes. I continued to relax and breathe through them.

On the drive home, the contractions began to feel more intense and more consistent. I used the lavender essential oil and got in bed. While Dave put V down to sleep (and fell asleep with him), I laid in the Bradley relaxation pose. (And I marveled at how easy and helpful this side-laying pose was in this pregnancy compared to the excruciating pain it caused in my pelvis last time.) I think that I dozed for a few hours. Around midnight I started to think this might be it, but wasn’t sure enough to wake Dave, despite reaching the point where I had to start working to relax. The relaxation pose no longer felt good, but leaning back against the headboard concentrated the contractions in my back. I just couldn’t get comfortable in bed. So, I sat on the exercise ball and watched Netflix. I discovered an adorable show called Jane By Design and watched several episodes. Leaning forward over the bed, while sitting on the ball, was helpful for a long time, as was the occasional hip swirl. After a while, I really wanted to be in the water, so I drew a bath and got in. As in the bed, reclining in the tub caused my back contractions to feel much worse, so I made a towel pillow for my forehead and leaned forward. I didn’t have any sense of the timing of my contractions through any of this. I wasn’t totally convinced that this was really it, so I didn’t bother with timing the contractions. After all, my first birth taught me that the clock really means nothing with an OP baby. It also taught me that even super-intense, consistent contractions don’t guarantee anything.

Monday, August 6

Around 2am, I was losing the ability to relax myself through contractions, so I woke up Dave and then got back in the bathtub. We decided to call Peggy just to let her know that we seemed to be on the path to active labor, though we weren’t ready to call it that yet.

Eventually, the bath stopped feeling good. Since I had already ruled out the bed as being comfortable, I decided to lay on the couch on my side. The sagginess between the cushions seemed to help. Dave slept on floor beside me. When he was awake for a contraction, he did counter-pressure on my back with hands or peanut massager, which made a huge difference. Contractions were certainly intense, but I was able to stay in relaxation enough to doze off in between the contractions.

Around 4:30am, V (19 months) woke up. Dave brought his twin-size mattress into the living room and tried to get him back down to sleep. My vocalizations didn’t help. V was concerned and curious and kept asking about mama, mama, sometimes saying mama…mmmmmm (imitating moan). When Dave would press into my back my back, V wanted to help. Dave had V put his little hands on top of his own. At one point, Dave was in the other room for a contraction, so V came up and started pushing on my back. What a dear little boy. We had decided previously that we wanted V at the birth, but only if it was the best thing for him and my relaxation. We quickly realized that things were getting intense enough that we couldn’t give V the focus he needed, as I needed all of Dave’s attention on me, coaching me through the contractions. So, we called my parents around 5am to come and get him, with the idea that we might have him come to be with us again whenever it seemed right.

Dave needed to get V packed up to go, and I felt I couldn’t make it through the contractions on my own on the couch, so I got in the tub again. It was helpful to switch things up again, but relaxation was getting tougher and tougher to maintain. My vocalizing through contractions was getting stronger and I was starting to have intense downward pressure. My dad and stepmom showed up about 5:30 and got V and then Dave and I talked about our next steps. Dave called Peggy with an update, but I didn’t think I was ready to go to the birth center. I was terrified of getting there and being sent home, having to make the drive there twice, getting there and being days away from having a baby. Even with six months of work done in the Mothers Healing Together birth trauma support group and careful selection of providers who focus on mother-empowered care and the emotional side of birth, certain aspects of my first birth were coming back to haunt the corners of my mind. 

Peggy asked to speak with me, and while we were talking, I started crying. I still wasn’t even sure that this was the real thing. After all, I’d lost no blood, no mucus plug, and no water. I told her that I couldn’t bear to take a car ride there with the current intensity of the contractions, yet the thought of them being even stronger and making the drive was even worse.

With that burst of fear and emotion, I think Peggy recognized what I could not/would not see—not only was the real deal, but pretty far into the real deal. Peggy reminded us that she needed one hour’s lead time to get a midwife to the center, and we all agree that Mayanne and I would meet there in an hour. A few moments later she called back and said someone would be there in five minutes. I text Heidi (photographer) to let her know, and she decided to come right away (versus waiting until we had a progress check, if elected) to avoid the traffic that would soon build as rush hour heated up.

Dave and I prepared for the drive. Before we left, I went to the bathroom and had the tiniest swipe of bloody show on the toilet paper. I cried a tear of joy, hoping that maybe there was some validity to this labor journey after all.

The car ride started tough, especially two speed bumps in our neighborhood, but once we were on 29, I felt trancelike. I hung onto the handhold above the car door and breathed and relaxed through the contractions, almost swinging. I could do this! Nothing was going to stop me this time. That early in the morning, there was little traffic, and the ride went quickly. I almost floated there.

When we arrived at the birth center, I was thrilled to see that Kim was the midwife there. Everything felt even more right and the fears that had been starting to build in me relaxed out. She was the midwife I connected the most with emotionally through the pregnancy. I might have teared-up because I was so happy. Kim came outside to greet us and she helped me inside. As I started walking, I felt a gush of fluid. I thought it was my water, but the volume wasn’t enough to actually leak, so it might have just been more bloody show. When we got into the Lotus Room, where I had done most of my prenatal appointments, I felt at home. 

Leaving me in good hands, Dave went to the car to bring in our stuff. Previously, I thought that I would decline all internal exams, but I needed proof that this was real labor so I agreed to one. Kim checked me and said that I was at 7 centimeters/a stretchy 8 and baby was still OP. I was shocked at my progress, and happy, yet still emotionally holding back that this was going to happen. The OP baby was no surprise, as the back labor was a tell-tale sign. Kim told me that the water in the tub was warm and ready, and I was eager to get in. I put on the clothes I had chosen for the birth (a modest top—what I felt comfortable in for pictures), and by the time Dave got back from the car, I was checked, changed, and getting in the tub. He came over and got right to coaching, bring chocolate coconut water with him. Someone posted my visualization posters on the wall by the tub and we put on the Reefscapes DVD I had liked from prenatal visits.

Relaxation Visuals

At the tub, Dave told me that our photographer, Heidi Daniels, also had arrived. She was so quiet, and I was so in my zone, that I didn’t even notice her at first. I caught him up on the past few minutes. Dave was surprised that I had done the internal check, but he was supportive. I told him how many centimeters I was, and asked him to ask Kim if I would have the baby today. I couldn’t ask her myself because I knew it was a ridiculous question, yet I was so afraid that maybe the end wouldn’t be in sight and, like with my first birth, the pain would be relentless for days. Kim assured us that baby would likely be coming very soon.

Photo by Heidi Daniels

Sure enough, things started picking up intensely. Almost as soon as I got in the water, I lost my mucus plug. The contractions were getting very intense and I tried to stay in relaxation, though it was getting very difficult. I pictured the things from my visualization posters, breathed, and relaxed so much that I was floating in the water, as I didn’t want to use my muscles to push myself down. Kim and Jo helped me remember to keep my vocalizations in a low tone. I focused on two ideas to get me through the waves of pressure: strength and relaxation. To relax, I imagined myself in the Bade Pool at Spa World under the mushroom-style fountain--totally relaxed, surrounded by others, yet alone and distant--inward, focused. I also focused on being strong and enduring like the Caryatids of the Athenian Acropolis.

Things got more and more intense and I started to mentally lose it. I wanted to be out of my body. I wanted to be done. I was ashamed of these feelings, yet I knew that hiding them would take energy, so I just said what I thought. “I can’t. I want to go away. I’m too tired.” I never wanted to leave my baby, but I desperately wanted to pause life, leave the moment, rest, and then come back and do this. Ah, the mental struggle of transition.

With Kim, Jo, Dave, and Heidi crouched around the side of the tub, I had a community of supporters helping me stay in the present and get through it. This image of being encircled by love and support at my eye-level around the round tub is a quintessential memory/symbol of this birth: being part of a circle of women empowering each other and trusting that our bodies are strong and wise, brilliantly designed by a loving creator. It is everything about life, community, and God that I want to stick with me.

Photo by Heidi Daniels

In this circle of strength, my team gently cheered me on as I felt my strength and sanity waning. Perhaps Kim sensed my exhaustion and frustration, and she suggested that having Dave lift my belly during contractions would help baby’s head put pressure on my cervix to encourage dilation. Dave took her suggestion, and I hated it. It made me angry, and I said so (in a polite, blunt way). I remembered the strategy of getting angry at the pain, so I utilized it. But really, it made me mad and I wanted to stop. Yet, I/we kept going with it. I knew that Kim wouldn’t have suggested it if it wasn’t worthwhile. Sure enough, it worked. I felt an incredible, painful burst of pressure shoot out of me. In my mind, it made a sound like gunshot. I don’t know if it really did. I looked down and honestly expected to see that baby had been birthed in that furor of pressure. Alas, no. That was my water breaking. It was meconium stained.

Very quickly after that, the urge to push started. It was intense and unlike anything I’d felt before, so I recognized it by that new feeling. I had been nervous about knowing what to do during pushing, but I just went with it and Kim was supportive of letting me heed my body, which was great since I wanted to avoid coached pushing. But, when Jo used the Doppler to take a heart reading, Kim began to coach my pushing. It was one of those things that could’ve made me so mad, save that this time I had a provider who I could fully trust. If Kim told me I needed to do it, I needed to do it. I didn’t get an explanation right away, but I could see from the way that Kim and Jo were looking at each other that something was up. Kim became more urgent, telling me that my baby needed me and I had to put all of my effort into pushing. I tried, but I could tell that it wasn’t strong enough. It wasn’t baby’s time yet, so my body could only go so far. Kim told me I had to get out of the water NOW or she would have to “make the call” [to 911 for ambulance]. I didn’t hear it as a threat, like what I heard in the hospital with my first birth; it was simply reality from someone who cared deeply for me and my baby. We were all calm, there was no hysteria or panic, it was just a simple next step to help my baby.

While I trusted Kim, the idea of getting out of this deep tub with high sides while pushing out my baby felt simply ridiculous. The fullness I felt made me think baby’s head was already partially out. I told her that I couldn’t do it, and she told me that I had to—my baby was not happy in the water with a heart rate staying at 70. She said that they could all lift me out if needed. Somehow, got my focus together and got myself out of the tub. In that moment, I felt very light and in my mind, I semi-floated out. I made it mostly on to the bed when the next contraction hit and it was time to push again. Baby’s heart rate bounced right up to 140 and everyone was relieved.

The hard work of pushing continued and as I felt burning, I realized that baby’s head actually had not been partially out, like I had felt. Now, baby was really coming. This was hard, tiring work. I reached down and touched baby’s head, but couldn’t make sense of it. It was like touching my own skin when it’s numb—I could feel it with my fingers, but not from the other surface. I found it distracting and uncomfortable to reach. I needed to keep my focus. Dave, trying to motivate me, asked if I would like to know what color hair the baby had. I was so perplexed by this statement. Baby had visible hair? Huh? (Big brother V was born with only light duck fluff.) The thought distracted me, and I needed to keep my focus. As I pushed baby out, Kim told me to reach down and catch my baby. With her hands doing the guiding, I was able to touch, catch, and bring baby up to my abdomen. I could see that baby had lots of dark hair, which was a shock. (Now Dave’s comment made sense to me.) Baby was quiet at first, but then quickly gave a brief cry. After a few moments of marveling, I remembered that we needed to see if baby was a boy or girl. I thought it must be a girl, because Jo had said something about “catch her” a few minutes earlier, but really no one probably had a chance to see the genitalia in that quick swoop out and up. I moved baby up to look and couldn’t tell what I was looking at from that angle—I thought I was looking at a freakishly swollen vulva before Dave said it was a boy and realized that was testicles and then put baby in a more front-facing angle to really see. At some point, I announced, “He has a name. This is [E.J.]”

He was born at 8:07 am, just a mere hour after arriving at the birth center, and after just 30 minutes of pushing.

Photo by Heidi Daniels

I kept E on me and snuggled him. I marveled at his beautiful umbilical cord that was draped down my belly. After a few minutes, it was time to push out the placenta. This was not pleasant. I wanted it to feel natural and come out of its own accord, and I was getting lots of coaching on pushing it out. It seemed to take forever. Once the placenta was out, it was time to cut E’s cord. We gave Dave one final offer of doing it and then I did it. This was a true highlight for me—it represented everything that a non-medicalized birth is: I am the one who brought my baby out of me and I am the one who separated him from his life-giving placenta.

We spent time cuddling, trying to nurse (not too successfully, E like to sucked in his lower lip, which was great for giving him comfort but would break the latch), I got to see the placenta and how the amniotic sac had covered him. As the hours went by, I got to rest, drink, eat (laborade cubes and my stepmom’s white chicken chili). Mayanne came in and congratulated us. Birth Assistants Kaycee (who arrived at some point right before delivery) and Jo took my vitals sporadically. It was amazing to have this community of women around me, genuinely celebrating with me. I was on an incredible high. Birth, in all of its rich-yet-simple beauty was triumphant!



Photo by Heidi Daniels

My dad, stepmom, and 12-year-old niece who was visiting from Texas (and flying home just hours later), brought V. Heidi took pictures. When V came in, he said “baby” and was interested and was happy to be in the bed with us and touch his brother’s head. When E cried, V started crying as well. 

Photo by Heidi Daniels

Over the hours of resting, we recounted the birth. As we talked, Kim shared that baby had actually come out face down (i.e., occiput anterior, OA) , not OP as he’d been when we’d arrived, and he was born with a nuchal hand (a hand by his face). We rested and waited for Peggy to do the newborn exam and my sutures. When we got around to the newborn exam, E weighed in at 7lbs 2oz and 20.75 inches long. Peggy guessed that E was flipping from OP to OA when his heart rate had dropped. It made perfect sense. My body and my baby were doing just what they should. Technology gave us a window into that moment, but it was a window of frosted glass, unclear.

Photo by Heidi Daniels

Photo by Heidi Daniels

After the action slowed down, Dave, E, and I stayed in bed and rested (and watched the Reefscapes DVD over and over again). Dave fell asleep. I was tired but wired. E was shaky and his blood sugar was low, so I focused hard on trying to get some colostrum in him and get him past sucking in that lower lip and unlatching. After about 8 hours, we were ready to go home, so I took a shower and Dave packed us up. We were home at about 5 PM. I wrapped E, nursed him in the wrap, and finally snoozed.

Here is the birth day story, told in pictures:

{birth} E.J. from Heidi Daniels on Vimeo.

Tackling the Ugliest Stairs in History

OK, so maybe they aren't the ugliest stairs, but they are pretty bad. Long ago, a carpet runner most have been glued and nailed down. When someone pulled it up, they left the old adhesive to collect dirt and the nails to catch our socks.

Several contractors suggested that these stairs were a lost cause and simply needed to be rebuilt. There were several problems with this idea: tearing down something that should still have life, cost, and code issues.  See, a new staircase would have to meet current building codes. Our stairs are steep and some of the steps are different heights and widths, there is low headroom at the bottom, the railing is snug to the wall without ample hand space. The staircase would have to get longer and the headroom higher: we'd lose space in the basement as well as the main floor coat closet. We decided that new stairs were not an option, and we hoped that a simple sanding and a fresh coat of paint would make a big difference.

As our contractors began to work, the way the paint sanded off sent up a red flag that the steps were painted with lead-based paint. We all agreed that they could not go on sanding them. Not only would releasing the lead be bad for the workers, it makes disposal trickier, and with young children in the house, we have to avoid any chance of that dust spreading through the air. I had a moment of freak-out that our stairs were resigned to be ugly, then I started looking for ideas to cover the ugliness.

We could tack down a jute runner, like this:

 

Source: southernhospitalityblog.com via Pa on Pinterest

We could buy solid wood Retrotreads.

 

 

 

 

 

Source: youngmanufacturing.com via Pa on Pinterest

We could buy synthetic runners.

 

Source: plowhearth.com via Pa on Pinterest

Or we could buy wool runners.

Source: lizaphillipsdesign.com via Pa on Pinterest

Then, our contractor had a brilliant idea we'd never considered. He suggested we flip each stair upside down. The backside (which creates the ceiling of a storage closet) had never been finished--it was raw wood. We found it hard to believe that this would work, but we told them to go ahead. We loved that this would use the materials already in our house. Plus, it would save us the cost of a runner and it would mean the stairs really could look good, rather than being just bandaged.

You know what? It worked! Here's a side-by-side shot, so you don't have to scroll up and down. You can also see that the left side of the stairs now has full knotty pine-paneling and the right side is a half-wall.

 

Next up: the risers will get painted, the treads will get stained, and we'll get the banister up.

 

Addition: here is a picture of the stairs at the end of the project.