This post is dedicated to my littlest of littles, my Brayden. Without you this journey would have not even been started. So, to you, my dearest son.... I say, "thank you".
I know, what kinda crazy is she passing out today?
Well, this past weekend (while my husband was at work) I was on mom duty. I decided that it was 2:30 in the afternoon, and it was time for me to get the day started. Ya know, brush my teeth, shower, get dressed in something other than old sweat pants and a pitiful t-shirt with old spaghetti stains and visible toothpaste from the night befores tooth brushing episode with Brayden.... (yes, when I "force brush" his teeth, he sometimes gets it all over me. Tooth brushing is just not his gig, ya dig? Anyways, I shower for about
2 minutes lies, 7 minutes, more lies 15 minutes! anyways, longest shower ever (moms do not judge, the children spent over half of the time in the bathroom with me trying to peek into the shower and tattle tell on the other for hitting, kicking, or breathing). I get out of the shower walk through the house to see broken red crayon scattered on the floor. Normally, I call for both tots and ask them to clean up the mess.... my mind did not even think that one of these tiny tots would have been coloring. I walk into the kitchen and I look on my white tile floor and see a little bitta scribble scribble. Umm, not good. Brayden runs in, sees me looking at the floor and runs out. Uh, huh, there is my culprit. So, I walk around the corner of the bar and look under the bar stool and see a guilty looking face. I ask if he colored on my floor, and he starts crying. I ask again, "did you color on my floor". He says, "I'm so sorry, I just did not have any paper". It was the most pit-i-ful thing I had ever heard. Geez. I look out the window (praying for the good Lord to give me strength and patience.... and Mr Clean's Scrubbing Sponges). While fighting off the urge to fa-reek out, I realize I am looking at yet another Baby Bear original.... on my sliding glass door. I walk to look at that damage then notice that my kitchen walls are all full of scribble scrabble mess. I of course loose it, and clean it all up, all except for the walls. After some intense scrubbing with my scrubbing sponge I started to notice that the paint was coming off of the wall. Just fantastic.
After a day or so, looking at my new piece of artwork, I decide it is time to get busy and start on all of my house flipping plans! We may be living here for forever, and it is time I make this house something that I really love to be in. My main problem is there are so many things that I want to do and I am almost paralyzed to start anything.
- paint baseboards
- loving gray right now, so gray is my new funky fresh color
- all of my furniture will not mesh with gray
- wood floors
- brick floors in kitchen
- redo Bray and Sophia's room
- finish my room
- finish bathrooms.
The list is long and the budget is tight... like super tight. Like, I do not have a budget. My ideas are big, and my list is long, and my billion dolla budget ain't happening!
So, since I am living with tiny VanGogh, I decide I will paint my kitchen gray. So far, I have painted not even a little of the wall, maybe 6% of the walls have been painted. I hate the gray. It is like a blue silver gray.... and I am not loving it. So, tonight, I have been going through my decor books and pinterest to find some great ideas and get inspired.
So, first I shall start baseboards. That's right. Baseboards. I shall paint all of my oak baseboards white! Some of you are thinking, why oh why would you do this. The job is too hard, and it will take too long. I understand. But, it must be done!! I will keep you updated on the process, if you have any wise advice on painting baseboards.... please let me know.
What is the worst that could happen?
I guess the worst that could happen is, I start to paint and....
1. I realize that painting baseboards is dumb and I just stop where I am at and then my house looks ridic.
2. I start painting and while scooching on the floor my knee hits the paint can and it spills all over my
super awesome disgusting carpet and I cannot remove it and I have to get new floors... (boohoo). (FYI, that would kinda not be good since I am on a dolla budget... not a billion dolla budget.
3. I begin painting, stand up to gaze at my awesome amazing work, trip on a toy, spill the paints, break my leg, and fall into itty bitty toy parts that I have asked the littles to pick up day after day. Sounds, crazy, but I seriously think of the nut job situations that I could somehow get into (I think it is my brain trying to tell me to sit down and just eat a cookie and watch Real Housewives).
4. Or it just turns out looking like a hot mess, and I will forever have to stare at it as punishment for thinking that I was a painter in my past life.
Thoughts.... To paint, or not to paint? That is the question.