Your children will be more excited about seeing the builders every morning than seeing you.
You will gain about half a stone through eating convenience foods and takeaways.
Your standards of ‘clean’ will reduce dramatically, although you will experience manic ‘I must clean up’ moments despite knowing another layer of dust will quickly replace the last one.
You will become expert in the supply of hot beverages, even when a lack of electricity means the kettle doesn’t work.
You will become immensely interested in details that previously you would never have noticed. Examples include the perfect finish of a skimmed ceiling, seamless worktop joints and mitred tile edges.
The presence of builders in your house will immediately quadruple your patience with your children as you desperately endeavour not to be overheard shouting and snapping. Ditto swearing (which I never do of course).
You’ll become accustomed to having to make urgent make or break design discussions with a toddler hanging off each leg.
Your toddler’s favourite toy will become an electronic screwdriver and you’ll find attempted drill holes everywhere, including your prized Conran coffee table.
Your vanity will be checked by the need to let the builders in every morning in your pyjamas, face free from essential makeup and sporting crazy bed hair (not in a sexy tousled way).
You will lose count of the number of times you have had to reset your bedside clock after the power has been switched off for the umpteenth time.
You’ll panic if you stir during the night because you know you’ll start running through design ideas and will be awake for hours.