Basements and Babies
I was talking to a friend this morning about a project she's working on. She purchased a new townhouse to rent for side income, and she is in the process of finishing her basement along with working her full-time job. The more we talked, the more I realized that raising kids is a lot like finishing your own basement on the side. And while she doesn't have children, we are both experiencing a lot of the same things. And both seem to stem from some level of insanity, getting into this mess.
Most people probably don't know everything about construction when they begin finishing the basement (I mean, what really IS a wall, anyway?). You look up a lot of informational videos and muddle along the best you can. If all else fails, duct tape. Similarly, no matter what your experience with kids is before becoming a parent, having your own is different. Parents virtually always feel out of their depth, just taking it one day at a time. You can always give them medicine if they won't stop crying. It might work.
Finishing your basement is expensive. You start with a budget that is inevitably overrun as you have to pick up more supplies, try to find better materials, and run into unanticipated problems (wait, I have to remove the bodies instead of building over them?). Parents have to figure out how to feed and clothe a new person (tip: no pizza for at least the first couple of months), in addition to healthcare (good luck staying in your band-aid budget), education (No, the pig does NOT go "Moo!" Have you learned nothing?!), and all kinds of other things that come up as you go along. You always wonder where all the money went.
There's never enough time. Working a full-time job as my friend is, then coming home to work for another six or eight hours is enormously exhausting. Parents who work come home and extend their workday cooking, cleaning, and doing homework (what is this base 6 crap?) until the kids are in bed, then do more work to stave off your own personal illustration of the principle of entropy in your own home. There's always more to be done, and you always feel behind. And you will never again feel well rested.
You start the basement with a grand vision of what it will look like when it's complete. I think parents are the same way, hoping the child will grow up to be a doctor or wear pants every day or whatever. Lofty goals. And you really have no idea what the future holds. There's a lot of uncertainty, and there may be some settling of expectations along the way. (Fine, you can have a mohawk. But I choose the color it's dyed.)
My friend hopes the investment in the basement will pay off with renters who will spend more for additional square footage of living space. Most parents hope for the emotional payoff of grandchildren down the line, as well as support in their old age. But it's never a guarantee. You may end up with renters who want to cook meth, or children who cook meth. See? Parallels!
You make a tremendous mess finishing a basement. Framing, putting up sheetrock, plumbing, electrical, painting. It all requires a ton of cleanup work. And anyone who has had a child knows the constant wiping of spills, changing of diapers, laundry, and general cleaning up of clutter that is always hanging over your head. And both parents and DIYers can become ill from noxious fumes.
In the end the finished product (ideally) leaves you impressed. When you give it your all, a basement can end up significant increasing the value of your home, extending your living area and giving you more room to do the things you want. You also get a feeling of irrational pride in your accomplishment (I mean, it's still a basement). I imagine that seeing your child grow up to be a decent person and productive member of society (writing is a real job!) is tremendously satisfying, and makes all the work worthwhile.n Or at least your memory deteriorates enough that you forget a lot of the hard times.
So there we have it. Finishing your basement or having a child is not without risks, but you do it because you believe it's right. Or someone guilts you into it. And if you try your hardest, you'll probably make things work out and and up with something that you enjoy, whether that's a ping pong table or someone to visit you in the retirement home.
Most people probably don't know everything about construction when they begin finishing the basement (I mean, what really IS a wall, anyway?). You look up a lot of informational videos and muddle along the best you can. If all else fails, duct tape. Similarly, no matter what your experience with kids is before becoming a parent, having your own is different. Parents virtually always feel out of their depth, just taking it one day at a time. You can always give them medicine if they won't stop crying. It might work.
Finishing your basement is expensive. You start with a budget that is inevitably overrun as you have to pick up more supplies, try to find better materials, and run into unanticipated problems (wait, I have to remove the bodies instead of building over them?). Parents have to figure out how to feed and clothe a new person (tip: no pizza for at least the first couple of months), in addition to healthcare (good luck staying in your band-aid budget), education (No, the pig does NOT go "Moo!" Have you learned nothing?!), and all kinds of other things that come up as you go along. You always wonder where all the money went.
There's never enough time. Working a full-time job as my friend is, then coming home to work for another six or eight hours is enormously exhausting. Parents who work come home and extend their workday cooking, cleaning, and doing homework (what is this base 6 crap?) until the kids are in bed, then do more work to stave off your own personal illustration of the principle of entropy in your own home. There's always more to be done, and you always feel behind. And you will never again feel well rested.
You start the basement with a grand vision of what it will look like when it's complete. I think parents are the same way, hoping the child will grow up to be a doctor or wear pants every day or whatever. Lofty goals. And you really have no idea what the future holds. There's a lot of uncertainty, and there may be some settling of expectations along the way. (Fine, you can have a mohawk. But I choose the color it's dyed.)
My friend hopes the investment in the basement will pay off with renters who will spend more for additional square footage of living space. Most parents hope for the emotional payoff of grandchildren down the line, as well as support in their old age. But it's never a guarantee. You may end up with renters who want to cook meth, or children who cook meth. See? Parallels!
You make a tremendous mess finishing a basement. Framing, putting up sheetrock, plumbing, electrical, painting. It all requires a ton of cleanup work. And anyone who has had a child knows the constant wiping of spills, changing of diapers, laundry, and general cleaning up of clutter that is always hanging over your head. And both parents and DIYers can become ill from noxious fumes.
In the end the finished product (ideally) leaves you impressed. When you give it your all, a basement can end up significant increasing the value of your home, extending your living area and giving you more room to do the things you want. You also get a feeling of irrational pride in your accomplishment (I mean, it's still a basement). I imagine that seeing your child grow up to be a decent person and productive member of society (writing is a real job!) is tremendously satisfying, and makes all the work worthwhile.n Or at least your memory deteriorates enough that you forget a lot of the hard times.
So there we have it. Finishing your basement or having a child is not without risks, but you do it because you believe it's right. Or someone guilts you into it. And if you try your hardest, you'll probably make things work out and and up with something that you enjoy, whether that's a ping pong table or someone to visit you in the retirement home.
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