The one about the sink

Aaaand I’m at it again. This time it’s my OCD. You pick a horse and I’ll pick a horse and we’ll go for another ride.

Yesterday I met with the countertop guy who creates the template. That’s how the people who actually cut the slabs of granite know what size and shape to make them.

The first thing he noticed in my new kitchen was the oversized farmhouse sink. It’s too big, it’s installed in the wrong kind of cabinet, and it has a crack in it. Also one corner is 1/16 of an inch higher than the other three, which are all 1/4 inch too low, but who’s counting?

You might be wondering why we didn’t know all these things about our sink and I would tell you it’s because we are not sink experts or even cabinet experts. And this is what happens when you try to do it yourself but yourself doesn’t know what you are doing.

A very wise friend once told us “you can’t beat a man at his own game” and that was the best advice we did not take when we undertook the building of our own house without expertise in any area.

Did you know there are cabinets made specifically for apron-front sinks? I know that now. Did you also know that a 22” sink in a 24” cabinet does not leave room for a faucet to be installed? That’s a little detail they neglected to include in my finance degree from 1983.

But oh, the education we are getting now. It’s invaluable but unfortunately wasted because as I’ve said a billion times in the last year: we are never doing this again.

Lucky for me, I recognized the crack in the sink and was smart enough to know that was not a trendy feature, so I had already bought a new sink which was in the back of my car. Somewhere in that transaction I decided a faucet would be a good idea, so I found one that is the proper dimensions for the cabinet and leaves room for a hole because I am smart like that.

(Please note there will be no matching soap dispenser in my kitchen. I detest those things.)

Anyway, Template-man removed the cracked, too-big sink for me after I commented I wasn’t sure how I was going to get it out of there. These things weigh a lot of pounds more than a 61-year-old arthritic grandmother can lift straight up. Template-man did it with one hand. Show-off.

Then he proceeded to use his high-tech laser gadget to draw a digital picture of my kitchen. This is when we learned there is a very slight bow in one wall, and also the kitchen window is an inch and a half off from the house plans.

That may not sound like a big deal, but when your cabinets are ordered and fitted according to said plans, you wind up with a sink cabinet that is not centered under the window. That might not be so bad, but when you install the faucet and it doesn’t line up with the center line of the lower window pane, Houston has a problem.

While all this explaining was going on, I realized I was very quietly chewing a hole in the side of my mouth. That’s what I do when anxiety comes to visit.

My brain was swirling with visions of moving half the cabinets 1 1/2 inches left, then having a gap because they are anchored by a corner cabinet that has to be in the actual corner.

At the same time, I had visions of standing at the sink with a faucet that was not in the center. And then how do you hang a clock over the sink? Do you line it up with the window or the faucet? And what about the light?

This mushroom cloud was exploding in my brain while I was thinking about all the work it would make for Ben, and I forcefully announced to Template-man, “I don’t care. Leave it. I am past the point of caring about little things like this, I just want to live in my house.”

Really I was trying to convince myself of the truth of this bold-faced lie.

He shrugged and said, “Okay,” but I knew he was not happy with my decision.

I wasn’t either but there I was back in the same old place in my head that tells me I am not worth this amount of extra work. I was forcing my brain into denial mode so I would not have to attend the internal boxing match between OCD and low self-worth.

God bless my husband for riding this merry-go-round for almost 39 years without once jumping off.

I came home to Ben and conversation was had. Cabinets and sinks were researched. Tears were shed and assurances that he loves work and wants my kitchen to be perfect were made. This ride around was quicker than in the past so maybe we’re making progress?

Somewhere in there we also made the decision to preserve our grandchildren’s heads and not get the chiseled edge, opting instead for a smooth edge that won’t gash anyone open who bumps into it. You’re welcome, all 13 of you.

So here’s what I am learning beyond how not to install a farmhouse sink:

Just. Say. What. You. Want.

It is not wrong or selfish to have an opinion about how the kitchen looks. You want to make something beautiful and even God appreciates that.

It is not “OCD” to want the sink and faucet centered under the window. It’s proper building and we are at least trying to adhere to some kind of standards

You are not helping your husband by not telling him what you prefer. You are making it harder for him to love you well. You are denying him the ability to bless you with the best he has to give, and that’s what God expects him to give you—his best.

So get off your self-deprecating, I’m-not-worth-it carousel horse and tell the man what you need or want.

That’s communication that honors your husband and helps him love you.

(Thank you for listening to me preach to myself.)