Cat Hair on My Cardigan: Doing it Myself

When we moved into our house eight years ago, it was very much an if-it-ain't-broke-don't-fix-it situation. We replaced the hideous carpet, and of course, after years of rental whites and beiges, we painted the walls. That was pretty much it, though. Did I love (or even like) the weird kitchen wallpaper and the shabby oak (-looking) cabinets? No, I didn't, but I could tolerate them, and that was enough. And the less said about the dated parquet floor in the dining area, which was so scuffed that it looked like it regularly hosted tap-dance battles, the better. Still, it was structurally sound, so I wasn't spending a dime on it. So there, HGTV-industrial complex! It's not like I don't care about having beautiful surroundings, but when you're broke and not exactly handy, you just count a lovely home as one of those nice things you can't have right now.

The OG kitchen. Not a good look.

Several years later, something momentous happened: in December of 2013, I visited Ikea for the first time, and it was a quasi-religious experience. All of a sudden, I wanted a beautiful house, and I wanted it immediately. It all seemed within my reach, and I was determined to make it happen.

How, you ask? By hiring people to do it, of course. My mama didn't raise a fool. I know my limitations. We had the flooring and countertops replaced, and next week, we're having that weird wallpaper taken down, to be replaced by this tile, which I love more than I knew a person could love tile, and the same taupe-y color that's in the living room. It's going to look great, and I can't wait for it to be done. The job got postponed by a week, though, so I decided it was the perfect time to paint my sad cabinets white.

I have never done this kind of job, so I Googled it and found this incredibly helpful site. Some sites, like This Old House, made it sound like a forty-step process. Yet another (I've forgotten which) said that I should expect the job to take thirty days, to which I responded:

LiveLoveDIY, however, made the job sound possible. I like possible. However, I must take issue with her assertion that if she can do it, anyone can. If a person who quit her job to renovate her house and blog about it can do it, that really does not mean that I can. When I tell you that if I can do it, anyone can, you can believe me. I lived with splotchy outlet covers for years because I was too lazy to take them off when I painted. That is how incompetent I am.

So, long story short, I painted my cabinets. Even though I assured Mark he wouldn't have to help me, he took pity on me and handled the cabinet doors. It's a good thing, too, because they are a huge pain in the ass. The job might have defeated me had he not intervened. It ended up going so well that I decided to do the bathroom cabinets too. Anyway, here's what I've learned from this process:

Use primer, but don't fall into despair when you see how the primer looks. It won't look good or thoroughly covered, and that's okay. Painting will be easier and more gratifying, but you must suffer through priming first.
Don't skimp on prep. I tend to want to jump into projects feet-first (hellbent is the term Mark used), and I have to force myself to do all the things you should to make the job easier so that I don't end up in tears later. Clean thoroughly and sand, even if you don't think you need to. It's your kitchen. It's gross.
If you're going to continue the same job the next day, you don't have to wash your brushes. Put them in a Ziploc bag and stick them in the fridge. Works like a charm. Thanks, website I whose name I forgot!

Not sure why he's sideways.

Utter chaos.

Special bonus: the bronze-y looking hardware that I had didn't look so hot with white, so I considered buying new ones. Still, I am cheap and wasn't psyched about that. Turns out you can spray-paint them, and it does the trick. I used Valspar Metallic in brushed nickel (and primer, of course).