Red Light

So we're supposed to be busy settling into our new house right now, but instead we're exactly where we were a few days ago. More specifically, we remain surrounded by boxes, unsettled children and the crumbs of the last remaining food from our cleared-out cupboards . . . a.k.a. in the old house. On Friday we had to cancel our Saturday move when a lead test came up RED, signifying the presence of lead in the trim of several rooms in the new house. I assumed all along that there was lead in the house somewhere seeing as it was built in 1823, but since everything I've read about lead says it's mostly only an issue with chipping, flaking paint and windows and doors, I assumed we were probably safe. There was no chipping or flaking paint, the windows are all new and I removed all of the doors (mostly out of suspicion of lead, but also just because we find that doors generally only serve to get in the way . . . I did keep the bathroom door, though). But then, standing in the new kitchen on Wednesday, just as we were finally finishing painting the last of the rooms (we ended up painting 8 of the 9 rooms in the house), I found myself staring at the unfinished trim.

peeking into the living room from the dining room,
note the unfinished wood trim

In several of the rooms, the baseboard and doorways have been stripped of their paint. The look is very funky and rustic and is one of the things that drew us to the house the first time we saw it. But as I stood there staring at it, it just dawned on me in slow motion . . . old house . . . lead paint . . . stripped, exposed wood . . . yikes! We happened to have a lead test on hand (I'd been concerned about a flaking-paint crawl space upstairs), so I quickly opened it up and read the instructions. The test would turn pink in the presence of lead. I brushed it on the surface of the kitchen doorway and immediately the test turned red. I looked again at the package and read that the darker the pink/red color, the higher the concentration of lead. Oh. Great.

Our landlords were less than thrilled about our discovery. First, they were freaked out about what this might mean for the rest of the house (as far as they knew, there was no lead issue in the house, but it had never been tested and children haven't lived there since they bought the place 10 years ago). Then they were worried that we were going to sue them or insist upon them getting the house officially deleaded (which in within our legal rights). Then, when we suggested that we simply paint over the exposed wood with lead encapsulating paint, they freaked out about us "changing the look" of the house. Needless to say, it's been an unfortunate few days. We even did a last-minute scramble to try to find someplace else to live, but luckily everything was figured out again at the new house before we had to seriously consider that option (i.e. the landlords calmed down and said we could encapsulate the lead).

So, long story short, our move has been delayed by a week. Lena is painting over all of the lead-positive wood in the house (and we've tested everything else in the house and it's all fine), and then I'm going to do a deep lead-dust-removal cleaning before we move in. There are definitely upsides to this new plan (more time to pack, time to move some things over ahead of time (kitchen stuff, bed frames) to lessen the nightmare of moving day), but it sucks to have most everything packed up and yet still be living here in disasterville. The kids are FREAKING out, and I don't blame them. They thrive on structure and routine and at this moment they aren't getting much of either. Instead they're watching Old School Sesame Street, eating out at restaurants every night, and asking every few hours, "so when are we moving?"