The Messy Part No One Shows You
I’ll get straight to the point: I’m a pretty patient person—or at least I thought I was. We’ve lived through a full-house renovation before, one that touched all four levels of our home, and while it was disruptive, it never felt unmanageable. This time? I wildly underestimated what living through a large-scale addition with the kids would actually feel like.
After sharing how we approached designing a kitchen around real life in the last post, it felt important to pause and talk about what “real life” actually looks like while you’re in the thick of construction.
For the first few months, construction happened mostly outside. (And thank god for that! 🙌🏻) The addition was built from the ground up and sealed before work began inside, which meant we still had usable space on the first floor. It almost lulled us into a false sense of calm. Four-plus months in, that buffer is gone. As of this weekend, the rest of the first floor is sealed off behind a plastic partition, and daily life suddenly feels much smaller.
Some of the challenges were predictable: eating every meal off melamine plates, dog hair everywhere, winter gear piling up with nowhere to live, and a 75 lb dog who’s officially abandoned the first floor due to noise. The kids feel the loss too—no casual hangouts with friends, no backyard play thanks to snow and construction equipment, no basketball in the driveway.
And we’ve all missed hosting. Dinner parties are a big part of our life, and putting that on pause has been harder than I expected.
Other things blindsided me. Losing wall space for our shared family calendar has thrown off our rhythm. Extensive structural work—new headers, steel beams, and reinforcements—has caused the house to shift just enough to misalign nearly every door, resulting in an unexpected weekend of repairs. 🤦🏻♀️
And something small but surprisingly emotional: the kids barely bake anymore. Our temporary kitchen setup simply doesn’t allow three kids to cook together, and that joy has quietly disappeared for now.
All of this layered on top of constant workers coming and going, months still left on the timeline, and an unusually brutal winter that’s kept us indoors far more than usual. The excitement is real—but so is the strain. I promised to keep this series honest, and this is what the middle actually looks like.
If there’s one thing this season has confirmed, it’s that clutter compounds stress. Which is exactly why I refused to put anything on the kitchen island—a decision I’ll break down in the next post.
Lastly, how freakin adorable is my sweet little Nora (photo above; age 8, from 4+ years ago) as she makes caramelized onions in our old kitchen?!
This post is part of my ongoing renovation series, Building a Well-Seasoned Home, where I’m sharing the process of reimagining our 120-year-old house for modern family life and real cooking. You can start from the beginning or follow along as we go — one decision at a time.
Let us know your thoughts!