Dear Fiona,
Due to a sudden change in our short-term rental circumstances, we (my husband, three children under 10 and I) are about to spend Christmas in our renovation project, which is increasingly seeming like the worst idea in the world. The walls are still being plastered, there are wires poking out waiting for bracket lights that won’t arrive this month, only one bathroom is in (which is fine –except typically it’s the small downstairs one and the bedrooms are upstairs – not that any of them are ready!) and we won’t have a kitchen until January (I’ve tried to see if there’s any chance of it being done sooner, but the answer was no.)
This would all be okay as I’m not being princessy about dust (though I’m bad at coping with chaos) but I would like to be able to make Christmas magical for the children, in a familiar way. I know that we’re in a privileged position even for me to be saying this but they didn’t choose to renovate a house, and I’m worried Christmas will feel strange and half-hearted and quashed by chaos. Our Christmases have always been about being inside and cosy together, so we need a tree that we can decorate and put presents under, rooms that we can make look beautifully festive. We’ve got certain games that we always play together, and we have hot chocolate afternoons reading books on the sofa – and we need some means of having Christmas lunch. I usually do a whole turkey, with all the traditional everything. I’d love to be able to do it this year too, but when I say we have no kitchen, I mean literally nada, not even cabinets. A couple of people have asked why we’re not going to stay with one of our families, but, for various reasons, that isn’t an option.
We move in on the 14th, so in a week: are there things I should ask the builders to prioritise between now and then? And, ultimately, how do I save Christmas? I keep waking up in the middle of the night panicking – what if one of the children electrocutes themselves? The builders are still going to be working on the house while we’re there too. And I’ve realised I’m not actually sure where the box of Christmas decorations is (everything is in storage – the apartment we were renting was fully furnished) and oh my goodness the GUILT at moving the children half-way through their advent calendars . . . Is this really stupid? Should I be spending all my waking hours scouring Airbnb for an alternative? (We technically could afford it – but the money would be better spent on the house – which will be lovely, one day.)
Love,
An Untimely Renovator XX
Dear Untimely,
Season’s greetings! There’s nothing quite like staring down the barrel at an incoming Christmas when your halls are decked not with holly, but with bare wires and dust. I completely understand the responsibility you feel towards your children’s experience and wanting to be able to continue the lovely-sounding times that you’ve had together in the past. Equally, I can identify with the scatter panic that you’re experiencing. Of course, Christ’s birth also came with a last-minute surprise location change, thanks to that decree from Caesar Augustus – which I bring up in case the parallel helps with the guilt you feel over the timing.
To establish one thing, it is entirely possible to live in a renovation project, and many people, including interior designers and other industry insiders, have done so, and there are even benefits to it. That said, I’m not in the business of sugar coating, and there are moments when it can feel akin to a survival challenge (I had six months without a kitchen.) You need to be good at letting go of what can’t be controlled – and, particularly at this time of year and with children in tow, you also need an attitude of festive gaiety which you may, at times, have to fake.
But, speaking of the children, there’s a second thing that I’d like to point out. Christmas comes with so many ideas of how things must be, because they always have been, and we become emotionally attached to routines and traditions (especially if everybody enjoys them). And yet it’s a celebration that should evolve, because our children grow, which you will already have experienced, to an extent. Hungry Hippos segues to Racing Demon, The Jolly Christmas Postman to The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe, and so on – and navigating that also involves letting go of what can’t be controlled and focussing on the gains, and the realisation that some change is positive. Within that, a bit of forced fluidity such as you are experiencing, can give us opportunity to discover new things and make new traditions.
I will come back to this – but in the meantime let’s get going with mitigating the chaos and quelling the rising disquiet, for which I always find a plan helps. I’ve put in subheadings for ease, and because aspects of your issue are not necessarily time-of-year-specific.
Moving into an ongoing renovation
Fundamental to withstanding living in a building site is acknowledgement that you almost certainly can’t occupy the house as you eventually intend to, but, instead, will need to ‘camp’ in it. Ideally, unless you want to go heavy on seasonal symbolism and so also ape the journey of the three kings, it won’t be nomadic camping.
Which means that a priority for your builders is ensuring that at least one room is finished (or, if that’s not possible, nearly finished), and that it is a room that you can seal with what interior designer and repeat renovator Laura Butler-Madden describes as “a crime scene-worthy arrangement of plastic and tape around the doors, to keep out the dust.” Charlotte and Angus Buchanan of Buchanan Studio (and their children) lived in, and entertained from, a bathroom, but most opt for something with a less obvious primary purpose. It will be the base to which you can retreat, and, while I very much advise not going crazy on getting stuff out of storage (certainly nothing that constitutes clutter – I suggest compiling a list of exactly what is vital), you want to be able to put your sofa in there, some lamps (essential for atmosphere), your television, and hang a familiar picture or two on the wall, while knowing that it can all change later.
With young children, camping might also mean that you decide to sleep downstairs, close to that bathroom, which takes the pressure off completing their bedrooms. If it’s that same room, and you’re short on space, put them on roll-out mats on the floor, make it cosy and charming with cushions and blankets, and market it as an adventure and a treat.
You’ll need a ‘camp’ kitchen, with a table that will work as a temporary surface, your fridge, toaster and kettle, a microwave, and maybe even a portable or countertop ‘toaster’ oven (you’ll recover the costs via lesser Deliveroo outgoings). Also – if you’ve got room for it – your dishwasher, for you’ll otherwise be doing the washing up in that downstairs bathroom, too. If that is your default ploy, know that carrying plates and cutlery upstairs gets old very quickly, and location plan accordingly (while remembering the existence of paper plates.) This interim kitchen also needs to be able to be sealed off from dust, and it may be that it’s again in the same room that is acting as your retreat, and where you’re sleeping.
At this juncture, it might help to remind yourself that it’s all temporary; I used to silently chant the serenity prayer, and Charlotte Buchanan mentions that it helps enormously to “keep your eyes on the prize,” – i.e. the money you’ll be saving, and the fact that you are doing this to create something that, as you say yourself, will be lovely.
Living in an ongoing renovation project
The other, equally important priority is safety. With your builders, ensure that there are no live wires in reach, emphasise that tools must be put away between jobs and overnight, and evaluate the works planned for when you’ll be in situ with children who have broken up from school – and thus establish which days there’s going to be significant noise, or the water or electrics are going to have to be turned off, and you need to make particularly sure that you’ve got plans that take you out of the house. Even so, you may want to give each child a wrapped-up ‘moving in’ present of a pair of noise-cancelling headphones, and headphones that can work with the television – and do make sure that you’ve got internet installed.
Along the way are details that make all the difference. “Clean sheets are transformative,” points out Tamsin Saunders of Home & Found – to which end, locate a local laundry service. Then, find “a good quality scented candle to get rid of the smell of paint and wet plaster,” (Santa Maria Novella have a Christmas one, I can also recommend their potpourri) and if you’ve got a fireplace, use it. “Think micro,” Tamsin continues – and a basket of bulbs or jug of flowers or on the table, even if you’re surrounded by boxes, is an unfailingly uplifting addition.
Finally, determine the day that the builders are going to down tools for Christmas, which will also be when you can relax your crime-scene worthy tape arrangement, and begin decking your halls with fresh foliage (which I’ll come back to, presently.)
Christmas in a renovation project
And now, to the specifics. Christmas, as we’ll all agree, is more than a single day. I know that for you, it’s predominantly been about being inside but I wonder if you could maintain that cosy spirit, while transplanting some of it outside. For, referring back to my earlier point about making sure you’re out of the house on certain days, this approach solves that. And, on the occasions when you might find yourself overcome, out of sight is out of mind. Perhaps you could relocate your hot chocolate tradition to a café – and combine it with walking around looking at Christmas lights, attending a carol service, or going ice-skating or to a pantomime. A thermos of hot chocolate could accompany you on “blustery walks, which can put things in perspective,” says Tamsin.
Walks are also opportunities to forage for foliage, which, once the builders are on their break, can be arranged in any rooms or corridors that you need to walk through, transforming your home into a temporary wonderland. You could even spray paint your findings in festive colours – particularly if the situation is such that it doesn’t matter if paint goes on the floors or the walls. And fairy lights can be transformative: during her five year-plus renovation, textile and accessory designer Tori Murphy even strung them around the Acrow Prop at the end of her bed.
Should you find yourself tight on space, branches arranged in a vase can be used for a Christmas tree – and if you don’t find your decorations, know that red ribbon tied in bows looks very pretty, and can be carried forward to future years as a reminder of this Christmas. If the camp kitchen can take it, you can augment the bows with cookies you bake with the children to hang on the tree – alternatively, Amazon have got gingerbread kits that come with pre-made biscuits that still give off a decidedly seasonal scent (every year I wonder why no one’s bottled gingerbread and narcissi as a room fragrance.)
It’s true that Christmas lunch might require some flexibility – which I think you know. There are substitute options to your traditional ideal, among them going out (there’s still time to find a booking), ordering in, and stocking up on COOK’s Christmas range (providing you have invested in a portable oven) and other delicious treats. Or, if you’ve got a garden, you could take inspiration from Kate Elwell of Master the Art: when she and her young family celebrated Christmas in a renovation project with no kitchen, they employed the twin powers of a camping stove and a fire pit. “We even heard the reindeer fly past when we were outside cooking,” she recounts. Kate’s then seven-year old (he’s now 11) still talks about their Christmas in a building site as being the best Christmas he ever had.
For children are often remarkably open to change: most of the time, all they really need is you, and each other, and to be able to see you and your husband approaching everything with the previously mentioned positivity. But, if it does all go pear-shaped (and, while I hope it won’t, it might) remember the existence of your newly unused rent budget, and the possibility of spending Christmas in a hotel, with floor space for games, and room service hot chocolate.
Good luck!
With love,
Fiona XX
