the great painting saga of '07
I am totalled and more than a little vertiginous tonight. The Boy and I are locked in Day 2 of The Great Painting Saga of '07. This is the first time I have ever shared responsibility for house painting, and it is kicking my ass. I almost had a stroke this morning when we pulled up the tape in the kitchen and found hours worth of edging mistakes. Suddenly I have discovered for myself the necessity of underpainting with white before you try to change the colour of a room. Fortunately, the house flipper never bothered to paint the bedrooms, so the worst of this problem is effectively behind us. (We kind of smashed through it head on, tell the truth.)
The house is completely torn apart – all of the careful work I've been doing to follow the FlyLady is scattered to the winds as we consolidate kitchen into dining room, Blake's bathroom into the basement, master bedroom into craft room, Blake's bedroom into every place not already full. Still, I'm glad we have the chance to do this all at once, rather than the slow torture of one or two rooms per weekend. Tonight Blake is having a sleep over at Camp Grandpa while his room is painted. Since we just started, I have a feeling that we're not going to be very chipper when we see him in the morning. And he'll more than likely feel the same way, as he'll be leaving my parents' air conditioned house in the middle of a heat wave to come back to a hurricane house where no one has the time to play with him. Poor little guy threw up his breakfast yesterday and has spent most of the past two days staring out the front window & listening to the stereo. As sorry as I feel for him, I greatly admire his aplomb; after throwing up in our bed in complete silence, he walked up to the Boy and announced calmly, "my muesli is out of me." He rocks.
To recap: the house is totalled, the painting is barely lurching along, I'm exhausted and drinking too much Diet Coke, and we're seriously behind schedule. All this, plus the possibility of a professional tile guy coming in to fix our severely f'd up tiles sometime this week. As a favour to my dad, this guy is doing it on "extremely short notice," which means that the Rocketfamily might well have an hour's notice to relocate for 24 hours. I feel like Cossaks are about to descend upon my hut at any moment. And yet, for no good reason, I'm still having fun. Weird.
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Don't make me send out the Blake. He doesn't listen to *anyone.*