now that the bedrooms are clutter-free (though you couldn't very well tell that at the beginning of the week) we have moved on to painting.
when we moved into this house about 7 yrs ago we let the kids pick their paint for their rooms. the girl--a tender 5 yr old at the time--was so very girly and loved all things pink. hence her walls were a light, pastel pink. at 12 her tastes have changed, she's migrated from pink and her color choice now is a turquoise blue.
7 years ago the boy was a sweet, sweet baby nearly 3 years old and was smitten w/ all things purple, especially as they related to a certain dinosaur. hence, his room is purple. at 9 his tastes have migrated from the dinosaur days to the superhero days and now he is wrestling obsessed. his color choice, for whatever reason, is green.
we are almost done painting the girl's room--and by we i mean me and the two kids. yes, they have actually helped paint. in the girl's room we have also had to paint the ceiling for two reasons--one, she managed to splotch some sort of black something on it--i have no idea what it was; two--some of you who've been reading for awhile will know that two years ago around christmas time the hubs was out of town (in OK w/ his dad who was having surgery). i decided to get the christmas stuff out of the attic. things were going fine until, whoosh, there went my foot right between the joists, right through that pink panther insulation and right through the ceiling in the girl's room. yeah, it's funny NOW, but not then. the kids panicked. my leg was through her ceiling up past my knee. i got it out and all was ok, but there was a huge hole in her ceiling. i called the hubs and told him and he was worried about me and if i was ok. i called my bro to tell him and doofus laughed his ass off, said he wished he would have been there w/ a video camera and made some comment about christmas vacation.
today i painted her ceiling. holy fucking hell it's hard to paint a ceiling. a white ceiling. with white paint. how do you know where you've painted? it's like mime painting. and it is a 70s popcorn ceiling. and there is a bunch of furniture in the middle of the room, hindering my ability to get around. and there are kids asking are you done yet so we can finish painting? and there are two cats running in, wondering what the hell i'm doing. and it's hard! hence my new respect for michelangelo.
on another painting note--yesterday when i was washing off the roller brushes, you know, those long, furry tubes, i almost laughed out loud to myself. squeezing the paint off, going up and down on that roller i thought--i'm so glad cocks aren't fuzzy like this. i mean think about it.