When it rains…

11 Jan
When it rains, it pours. Or, more specifically in our case, when it leaks, it ruins the floor.

But let’s back up and I’ll tell you how we got there….

Tuesday night I decided to look at our finances and figure out how we’re going to manage without me working full time. I should note that it is impossible for me to look at our finances without getting stressed. We could each make a million dollars a year and I’m pretty sure I’d still feel that way. It’s just how I am. The thing is, I know we need to be more diligent about our spending. But I also feel like just our basic expenses/debt add up quickly. And it’s not like we have any weird/crazy debt so I don’t understand how other people do it. Anyway, totally stress myself out before bed time which is never a good idea.

I go to get a glass of water so I can head to bed but notice that the floor is bubbly in the middle of the kitchen. Not near any of the appliances but in the middle. And, yup, the new kitchen floor that I worked so hard to find. I thought I was imagining things except then I got onto the floor and noticed water coming up the seams if I pressed on them. Certainly I had to be imaging that, right?! There wasn’t any visible water or damage by the sink, fridge, or dishwasher. Totally perplexed. It was at least 11:30 so Pete was already sleeping. I felt awful but I didn’t know what to do so I woke him up. He couldn’t figure it out either and we decided we’d call someone to take a look the next day. I’m sure this was not the best plan as any water leak/damage could have turned into a gigantic problem overnight but calling someone in the middle of the night didn’t seem like a good idea either.

The next day, Pete had an appointment about 30 minutes away at 9 am. He leaves in our old car (an important foreshadowing point…), I have to fight with Claire to take a nap, and eventually I cry because Pete is so much better at getting her to sleep than I am. After all that, I finally call my go-to person, Tony – aka my Mom’s boyfriend (though I’m not supposed to call him that, sorry, Mom) and the person who probably thinks I should not own a home due to my inability to take care of these things. Tony guessed it was the ice maker so said to have Pete pull out the fridge when he got home and call him back. All right. Good plan. Until….

Pete goes to leave his appointment and the car won’t start. Did I mention that this was his last day of an amazing 12 week paternity leave? Yeah. He was not too keen on being stuck away from home. So he called AAA but they had to tow the car because it wouldn’t re-start (the battery was just replaced a couple weeks ago so I suppose in some strange way it’s good that wasn’t the problem? I don’t know. I’m grasping at straws. I think that would have probably been better.) OK. So Claire and I have to now hop in the car and go get Pete from the mechanic. It’s not even noon and this day is not going so well. All the while we’re gone I’m getting more and more stressed about the kitchen floor/leak situation.

Are you still with me? It’s only 2:30 in the afternoon at this point. And the story goes into the next day too!

Tony was near our house so he meets us there. They pull out the appliances, check underneath them, and still can’t find the leak anywhere. We finally decide we’ll check with our neighbors and see if anyone else is experiencing any issues. And then, on his way out, Tony realized it was the hot water heater. On the other side of the kitchen, not in it. 50 gallons of water leaking down into the floor, pooling in the kitchen, and potentially about to burst all over our condo. Awesome.

Paranoid of that last scenario, we empty the tank into the tub (and then later over our balcony) using our building’s garden hose.


Oh, and the car? Super expensive to fix. But out of sight, out of mind for the moment.

Tony comes today with a guy to replace the water heater. They can’t move it because it had filled back up even though we thought we turned it off. Apparently turning on any water back fills it (or something?) I didn’t know that. I go to get the hose again and can’t get into the room it’s stored in. The key that worked the night before doesn’t now. My only guess is that the door wasn’t actually closed all the way so opened when I pulled it. I run around the building trying to find someone to let me in all the while leaving sleeping Claire in Tony’s hands if she were to wake up. Which is fine, he’s actually really cute with her, but if she did wake up she was likely going to want to eat. Stat. I don’t like this part of the day. I’m annoyed we thought it was done and annoyed I can’t quickly get the hose.

Finally find a neighbor, get the hose, they get the tank drained again, and replace it. We should finally be done, right? No. Now one of the pipes going into the tank is leaking. Corroded, needs to be replaced. Claire, miraculously, is still sleeping. I keep checking on her to make sure she’s alive. Seriously, she never sleeps more than an hour at a time these days (another issue for another day) and this is pushing two. Tony goes to get a new pipe and replaces it.

He needs to leave for another appointment but the water won’t turn on at the kitchen sink. Or the master bathroom. So now he’s back, Claire is still sleeping (about to hit three hours), and Pete is home early from work. The muck from the pipes clogged the pipes and/or fixtures. Tony fixed what he had time for and will be back tomorrow for the other one.

And now, you’ll remember this all started with a bubbly floor. Guessing that water was still stuck underneath, Pete pulled up the warped boards so everything can dry out. The good news is we know where to get more (ha!) and hopefully we can find someone to come put them in quickly. I’m ready for this saga to be over. Have I mentioned I don’t particularly like chaos?

The amazing thing is, after a bit of initial processing and the part about running around the building for a key, I’ve taken this all pretty well. It’s a bit overhwelming and rather expensive but it will all be fixed. And tomorrow will be another, hopefully less eventful, day. I think the moral of the story is really just to never, ever try to budget or look at our finances again. ;)

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