So... How about a facelift?

I'm going to say that it was at least three years ago when Steve and I began to feel the new-kitchen itch (or the "kitch" as I like to call it). I think it started when he dropped one of those shamelessly enormous Sam's club cans of Extra Virgin Olive Oil on the edge of the stove and gouged out a sizable chunk of porcelain. I look back at times and wonder if in a swift, Matrix-like move, he softened the blow with his head, because lately he's just been a little "off."

Steve knows the routine market fluctuation of stuff like mangoes and avocados. He can indefinitely do without anything one can purchase in a retail establishment unless it's on sale or he's got a coupon code. In fact, this is a man who once declared that he wasn't buying flavored creamer anymore because he considered it a "luxury item." Steve went 20 years without driving a new car and after he finally broke down and bought his coveted 5-series BMW, decided he was more comfortable scooting around town in the used Maxima his customer turned in post-lease and gave me the keys to the Beemer. My adorable husband has been known to break out in hives from the way I feed my new book addiction with large and frequent boxes from Amazon.com (and has suggested on more than one occasion that he'd be more than happy to drive me to the local library on a regular basis). And it goes without saying that he still owns clothing acquired during the Reagan administration.

The conversation began innocently enough. "You know hon, we should probably replace this stove soon. This is the third time that the oven is inexplicably not working and it would be great to upgrade to something more professional, don't you think?" How that morphed into "Oh, here's an idea--let's gut the entire first floor and invite a gaggle of contractors to live with us all summer," I'm still unclear about.

We talked about upgrading the 10-year old leaf green Formica to granite. And sure, if you're going to replace one appliance, you might as well look into buying the matching set, right? That's as far as I really thought it would go. And then we started with the magazines, and the kitchen books. We started privately critiquing our friends' kitchens and fantasizing about our dream kitchen. We made a pilgrimage to Expo and started a mental database of needs, wants, and 'when we hit the lotterys.' And then we hired an architect.

We got ideas for everything from making a few modest cosmetic upgrades within the existing footprint to blowing out walls and combining rooms to create the mother ship of all professional-grade kitchens (which, in our house, would be like encrusting the steering wheel of your '76 Pinto with Swarovski crystals). We consulted builders, collected quotes, and cut holes in walls to see what was feasible. We even dragged a realtor to every available home under $1million in our school district with the thought that it might just be easier to up and move than to undertake the kind of project into which this was slowly evolving. Eventually we decided to take a breather and maybe plan a vacation or something. Anything to get the kitchen off our minds for a while. And then my sister-in-law renovated her kitchen.

That's when the kitch grew from a nagging but mild discomfort into a brain-melting, life-consuming, oxygen-sucking beast with a mind all its own. Karen had her first glimmer of thought about renovating, consulted with friends, hired a contractor, drew up plans, chose her cabinets, counter tops, floors and color palette, and had an extra set of keys ground in less time than it typically takes Steve and I to decide what to grill on the weekend. Karen was a woman with a mission and went from Start to Checkered Flag in less than two months! Steve was inspired. He was awestruck. And then, suddenly, he was on a bender.

Before I knew it, my squeaky little hubby was waving his AMEX all over town like Wilma Flintstone in a prehistoric mall (Charrrge It!). Suddenly the white cabinets that had plenty of years' service still in them were, in Steve's mind, straight out of a trailer park and could be lived with no longer. The appliances had to be stainless and sleek and chunky. And we'd never be able to match the existing hardwood, so off we went on a mad dash to find the perfect floor -- for the entire first level of the house and the staircase (ok, so the staircase was my idea). And while we're at it, let's re-do the laundry and powder rooms and all the first floor lighting.

But wait, there's more... How about a few new coats of paint, crown molding, 5" baseboards, and for giggles, let's replace the front and back doors? And what do you say about a flat screen TV and entertainment console for it to hang over? Then there are the little extras like register covers, drawer pulls, and a new doorbell. I finally had to put my foot down when he called, breathless, from Home Depot to tell me that garage doors were on sale.

So, step by step, here's our story... and this is only the beginning.

Here are the "before" shots...