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A Bathroom for ManBearPigs Plus Jane

February 1, 2019 mithra ballesteros
BoysBath_07.jpg

Technically, this post is about the rehab of our hall bathroom. In actuality, I’m excited to delve into some of the grittier aspects of bathrooms and boys. You have been warned.

For twenty years, our four sons, aka our ManBearPigs, shared a small bathroom that measured 8 x 8. Thinking back on those days, it was quite manageable. When they were little, they loved communal bath time so much that the promise of bubbles in the tub was strong incentive for good behavior. And while I was forever straining to clean that weird spot on the base of the toilet with my stubby T-Rex arms, I don’t recall things getting rough until the middle school years.

That’s when our boys began developing five o’clock shadows by three in the afternoon. My husband was so proud of their manly abilities to grow beards, but not me. The perpetual coating of razor stubble all over both bathrooms drove me crazy. It got into everything, like coarse ground pepper, turning my fancy facial cream into an exfoliant. Plus, I knew full well that my husband couldn’t grow a beard to save his life. But me? Yup. Sadly, they inherited that gene from their Persian mother.

Anyway, after all the years of pure testosterone, we finally got a daughter. And watching my daughter-in-law share that tiny john with those ManBearPigs made me cringe. It was the impetus I needed to rehab it.

Here is what I love about the bathroom:

  • We installed a heated floor, which makes a huge difference. It was -20 degrees this morning. You know what I’m talking about.

  • I chose wood cabinetry because the rest of my home has a lot of natural wood finishes. This room needs to fit in. Plus, natural wood is coming back! Mark my words.

  • We raised the countertops. They’re now 35” from the floor.

  • I love the new Kohler fixtures. If you’re a regular reader here, you know I am loyal to Wisconsin’s hometown manufacturer and will only ever buy their plumbing fixtures because of their dedication to the preservation of outsider art.

BoysBath_03.jpg
BoysBath_02.jpg
BoysBath_08.jpg

I couldn’t find a mirror I loved. Then my friend Patrick, who is a brilliant designer, came over and said, “There’s nothing vintage in this bathroom… what is wrong with you?!” It’s great having friends who keep you in line.

So I snagged this mirror from my basement and voila! The pottery and the toothbrush holder are also vintage.

I wish the pics did justice to the texture of the Thibaut wallpaper. The pattern is Danube Ikat and it is like grasscloth but scrubbable. The wall sconces are from Circa Lighting.

BoysBath_09.jpg
BoysBath_10.jpg

The Evelyne Prélange tissue box in black faux fur is from Past Basket. It is softer than a baby’s freshly washed bottom. I know that when the boys were young, I could never have had something so soft and tactile, as it would certainly have become a booger depository. People moan that they’re sad when the little ones get big. They are forgetting the boogers.

The soap dispenser is from Crate and Barrel. It’s kind of lousy, FYI. I’m still looking.

BoysBath_01.jpg
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I found the vintage poster up in Sheboygan. Actually my friend Diana from high school found it. She’s a highly skilled hunter and when she saw it, we both gasped. Were we appalled? In love? Either way, I knew it had to be the only artwork in the room.

I think the poster, which is available here, is a knock-off of the 1972 Elizabeth Richter photograph, which is now in the Library of Congress.

BoysBath_04.jpg

The construction for this bathroom was done by Brillo Home Improvements. They have done all of our projects. This one took three weeks, start to finish. And Mike and Jonathan, the two gentlemen who showed up each morning, delighted me with their conversation. I spoke with them at length about the situation in Antarctica. You know, the incident where one researcher stabbed another over spoiled book endings. Mike and Jonathan came to the conclusion that if they were locked in my little bathroom for months straight, Jonathan would be the stabber and Mike the stabbee. Only Jonathan wouldn’t have attacked Mike with a kitchen knife. He thought that was amateur. He would have tried to find a less “public” way of inflicting pain, like leaving Mike out in the cold. Smart man.

We hope to redo our master bath sometime in the next six months. I am using a Jane Austen era corset as the artwork for that bathroom. And I’m looking forward to more stimulating conversation with Jonathan and Mike.

Photos by Renn Kuhnen.


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In Interiors, Family Tags bathroom makeover, manbearpig, kohler, raising boys
← Procrastination Links 02.04.19Procrastination Links 01.28.19 →

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Welcome! I'm Mithra (pronounced Mee-thra). I'm an interior stylist and a writer. I'm also a vintage and antiques lover. I have an online shop, Finder Not Keeper, where I sell my best finds. (That's a white lie. I keep the best finds.) Read more about me and the blog here. 


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Just finished watching the film RBG — so excellent— and then a friend texted me this poem by Sharon Owens: ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
Someone clever once said
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Women were not allowed pockets
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
In case they carried leaflets
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
To spread sedition
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Which means unrest
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
To you & me
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
A grandiose word
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For commonsense
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
Fairness
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
Kindness
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
Equality
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
So women start sewing
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
Dangerous coats
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
Made of pockets and sedition
Just finished watching the film RBG — so excellent— and then a friend texted me this poem by Sharon Owens: ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Someone clever once said ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Women were not allowed pockets ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ In case they carried leaflets ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ To spread sedition ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Which means unrest ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ To you & me ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ A grandiose word ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ For commonsense ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Fairness ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Kindness ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Equality ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ So women start sewing ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Dangerous coats ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Made of pockets and sedition
“I like trees because they seem more resigned to the way they have to live than other things do.”
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Willa Cather
“I like trees because they seem more resigned to the way they have to live than other things do.” ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Willa Cather
On the blog today a review of the book that shook me up, made ma laugh, and broke my heart. It’s a title you’ve never heard of written by a man who has won awards, but not enough in my opinion. Link in bio.
On the blog today a review of the book that shook me up, made ma laugh, and broke my heart. It’s a title you’ve never heard of written by a man who has won awards, but not enough in my opinion. Link in bio.
I am one lucky dame. That’s all.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
📷: @carlacoulson
I am one lucky dame. That’s all. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 📷: @carlacoulson
In honor of my friend @pego16 whose birthday is TODAY! Since she was a kid, she’s disliked VDay and you can imagine why, right?!?
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Card made by @farewellpaperie which is no more and which also sucks.
In honor of my friend @pego16 whose birthday is TODAY! Since she was a kid, she’s disliked VDay and you can imagine why, right?!? ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Card made by @farewellpaperie which is no more and which also sucks.
Throw back to that time I set the table in the snow. Happy Valentine’s Day, lovers!
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Old coasters from West German pubs visited back in the 1980s before the fall of the Berlin wall. Thought this flatlay needed a hammer bottle opener to emphasize that walls — whether they’re brick, concrete, or electric wire — eventually get knocked down.
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Brunch with four hopeful young men!
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And so another E.B. White passage hits home:
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“The residents of Manhattan are to a large extent strangers who have pulled up stakes somewhere and come to town, seeking sanctuary or fulfillment or some greater or lesser grail. The capacity to make such dubious gifts is a mysterious quality of New York. It can destroy an individual, or it can fulfill him, depending a good deal on luck. No one should come to New York to live unless he is willing to be lucky.”
Brunch with four hopeful young men! ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ And so another E.B. White passage hits home: ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ “The residents of Manhattan are to a large extent strangers who have pulled up stakes somewhere and come to town, seeking sanctuary or fulfillment or some greater or lesser grail. The capacity to make such dubious gifts is a mysterious quality of New York. It can destroy an individual, or it can fulfill him, depending a good deal on luck. No one should come to New York to live unless he is willing to be lucky.”
Walking past Engine 24 Ladder 7 and its memorials, I’m reminded of this prophetic passage written by E.B. White, fifty years before 9-11-2001:
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
The subtlest change in New York is something people don’t speak about much but that is in everyone’s mind. The city, for the first time in its long history, is destructible. A single flight of planes no bigger than a wedge of geese can quickly end this island fantasy, burn the towers, crumble the bridges, turn the underground passages into lethal chambers, cremate the millions. The intimation of mortality is part of New York now: in the sound of jets overhead, in the black headlines of the latest edition.
Walking past Engine 24 Ladder 7 and its memorials, I’m reminded of this prophetic passage written by E.B. White, fifty years before 9-11-2001: ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ The subtlest change in New York is something people don’t speak about much but that is in everyone’s mind. The city, for the first time in its long history, is destructible. A single flight of planes no bigger than a wedge of geese can quickly end this island fantasy, burn the towers, crumble the bridges, turn the underground passages into lethal chambers, cremate the millions. The intimation of mortality is part of New York now: in the sound of jets overhead, in the black headlines of the latest edition.
On the blog today, a very short little film shot from inside a cool estate sale. The home belonged to a woman who emigrated from Sweden and she was an excellent caretaker.
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Have you ever shopped an estate sale? What room do you go into first? I always head to the dining room because I’m a dish whore.
On the blog today, a very short little film shot from inside a cool estate sale. The home belonged to a woman who emigrated from Sweden and she was an excellent caretaker. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Have you ever shopped an estate sale? What room do you go into first? I always head to the dining room because I’m a dish whore.

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