I've been wanting to revamp our kitchen ever since we moved into the house 4.5 years ago, yet I've continuously put it off for one reason or another. But a couple weeks ago I decided that right now? Right now when my life is extra super busy? Right now would be the perfect time to start the kitchen project. Because that spare hour of time I have about once a week is being completely wasted. Also, I like to make myself cry.

On Sunday I started stripping the godawful motherfucking wallpaper (hooray!). My only other experience removing wallpaper was in the bathroom, and that episode is not among my fondest of memories. So I went into this knowing it was going to suck. I started on the wallpaper that covers the top half of the room, and it went surprisingly well. Like, really really well. Like so well that I was beginning to re-estimate the time it would take to complete this project.

Meanwhile Rob was in the basement installing our new water softener, but things were not going well. The thingamabobs on the new softener aren't the same size as the thingamabobs on the old one, and so they didn't fit our water pipes. So Rob went to buy a converter or something. He suffered an elaborate ordeal tracking down what he needed (plumbing store closed on Sundays, Lowe's out of stock, and on and on) but returned two hours later weary but not defeated. "So did you get something that'll work?" I asked, as I tore another piece of wallpaper down the wall.

"I think so," he replied, before launching into a detailed explanation while I pretended to listen. "...And so I got a [somethin' er other] and that'll fit into this [whirlygig] and then I got a nipple to connect that to the [thingamabob]."

"Heh. You said nipple."

We finished installing the water softener, and that phrase makes it sound much simpler than it was. There was lifting and bending and tightening and grunting and cursing. It's not a terribly difficult thing to do, but little things that go wrong add up to a lot of time and effort. But we finally finished. Really it was all Rob. I just hold things and provide moral support. And, you know, make nipple jokes.

So then I started on the wallpaper on the lower half of the kitchen. Which, as it turns out, is a completely different beast than the stuff on the top half. Worse, even, than the bathroom wallpaper. Way worse. I had started on the section of wall behind the refrigerator, and I don't know why I mention that except that to be wedged back there somehow made things all the worse when they didn't go well. After a few minutes of extreme frustration, I said, "I think I'm going to cry."

Rob came over and peered around the fridge. "What's wrong, babe?"

"It's not working. It's even worse than in the bathroom! It only comes off in teeny tiny strips."

"Hmmm," he said as he watched me peel off a piece of wallpaper the size of a caterpillar.

"I can't do the whole kitchen like this!" I wailed. "Why the hell did I start this?! I don't have time!" I tried to peel another corner that had been perforated and soaked in solution like all the rest. But to no avail. "Fuck! Okay, I have to stop now before I have a meltdown."

I walked away for a little bit and then returned to suggest that maybe a steamer would work. We could rent one next weekend and try. And if it didn't, then we'd just have to demolish the house and start over because that would seriously take less time than peeling wallpaper off the walls in strips the size of my goddamn pinkie finger.

A few minutes later, I walked into the kitchen to find Rob ironing the walls. He had plugged our clothes iron into an outlet and was spraying the walls with water and then pressing the iron against the wallpaper. "It's basically the same thing as a steamer," he explained. "Let's see if it works."

And it totally did. We were able to pull the wallpaper off the wall in wide sections. The paper backing was left behind, so I still have to scrape that off. But still. Dude is totally my hero.

This morning I woke up and every muscle in my body ached, sore from the stretching and stooping and lifting and pulling. "Unnnnhhhh," I moaned as I rolled over. "I feel like I was in a fight." Stumbling to the shower, Rob agreed, "Yeah, I feel like somebody hit me all night with a baseball bat." We are total wimps, clearly without the fortitude and physical endurance to be homeowners. But unfortunately, if this project goes like most for us, I fear the ass-whooping has just begun.