The Sutton Life

We just finished refinishing our hardwood floors. Okay, so this may have been a project I underestimated. I thought I could just Pinterest it and, with a little elbow grease, get the exact floors I pictured in my head (and on my Pinterest board, of course). 

Well, it didn’t exactly go that way.

Here is what the floors looked like when we started:

Let’s start with Take 1: 

We sanded down the floors in the entire house with the exception of the master bedroom. I loved them. Their imperfections showed the history of the house. The light color made the house look beautiful and clean and renewed. 

“They are perfect,” I said to Scott, blissfully unaware of what was ahead. “I do not want to do a thing to them. I am just going to poly them with an amber poly. It will just give a nice, richer tone.” 

So, I did. I poly-ed the ENTIRE HOUSE. Then, I stared at it…and stared at it….and stared at it. 

Scott said he liked them. The boys said they liked them. I gave it a day. I did not like them. 

I looked at Scott with pure bewilderment, “They’re red. They are really red. I just don’t like them. I mean, I may hate them. How did something so beautiful turn out so….not. I only poly-ed them.”. 

I do not want to tell you how many times I sat completely perplexed at the red color that day. But ,I will tell you at one point the following conversation took place with my ever-patient, ever-agreeable husband.

Me: (blah, blah, red, blah, blah, red, red) Why are they so red? I do not want red. I want a nice honey color. 

Him: They are red oak. Red oak floors have red in them. They are called RED oak floors. 

Me: How do I get them not red?

Him: You install different floors. 

Then, he walked away. My husband does not spend time wishing things were different. He does not spend time trying to change things (or people, or himself) into something  they are not. Meanwhile, I spend a large majority of my time and energy on that. I keep saying I am working on it. Yet, here I am, staring at red oak wishing it to be white oak. 

Even with my new forced-upon outlook, I knew I had to start over. So, Scott rented the sander, drove an hour both ways to pick it up, and re-sanded the ENTIRE HOUSE (I mentioned his patience, right). 

Take 2:

Me: I am going to stain it this time. I would rather have darker floors. I have been researching it and that is my best chance to get the red tone out. 

Scott: …. 

So, I started staining. I mixed stains – gray with a darker brown – and finished one bedroom. It was okay. I started on the next bedroom. I got about halfway through. 

Me: I don’t like it. 

Scott: ….

Me: I’m sorry. 

Scott: I’ll rent the sander. 

And he did. He rented the sander, drove to get it, and sanded down the bedroom floors – AGAIN. 

Take 3:

This time I really researched. I couldn’t mess up again. My floors, and frankly my marriage, weren’t up for it. Then, I figured out my problem. My floors just wanted to be red oak floors. In their original form, they were beautiful. I had tried to manipulate that in Take 1 and Take 2. This time, I was going to let them be what they were intended to be. 

So, I bought a water-based sealer and nothing else – no amber tint, no stain. 

I crossed my fingers as I applied it. I finished the half of the first room and I knew…this was it! 

My floors are now my favorite part of the house. I just walk around all enamored by them. Like any new relationship, it is all I want to talk about. I relentlessly send pictures to anyone brave enough to ask, “How’s the reno going?”. I LOVE them. And here’s why….

They are real. They are filled with scuff marks, patches, color, and memories. Their natural color is less fiery and more subtle. They are all of us. 

We spend so much time covering who we are. Our beautiful parts are our broken ones. They show our life. Those that appreciate them are our people. Those that don’t, aren’t. I think we spend too much time trying to be something we aren’t in order to please people that do not appreciate us. We take out our frustrations and insecurities on those that do. Our energy is best spent on the circle that sees us – really sees us – and loves us anyway. 

Sometimes, lessons find us in the oddest of places. This one found me through the floors of my home. But I would like to think that each time I walk through my front door and see those beautiful red oak floors, I am reminded that it is my safe place. My place to be exactly who I am and for everyone else who enters there to do the same. 

Xoxo

Christy