I voluntarily came down into the basement about an hour ago in order to make some phone calls. Just a minute ago, I climbed to the top of the steps to get my to-do list, and realized I am stuck in the basement.
My clues? Stuff that was in the living room but belongs in the basement is lining the top steps. Sounds of chairs moving and a broom sweeping. A sign on the basement door that says, "Your Private Downstairs". No fighting. No arguing. Peace and calm.
Not wanting to ruin what I am hoping is a crew of children trying to surprise me by cleaning the upstairs, I am now gladly stuck in the basement. I think I'll go lay down for a rest -- after I wipe the tears of joy from my eyes.
In my attempt to paint V's bedroom this week, there have been many times where I have been painting with a busy 14-month old underfoot. I thought I'd share what I've learned from my experiences:
Do expect baby to want to help.
Don't expect to get much done.
Do dress baby in only a diaper because skin washes easier than clothes.
Don't put baby dressed only in a diaper down for a nap without putting more clothes on, she is likely to take the diaper off.
Do put up a baby gate so baby cannot splash in your paint bucket.
Don't use lead-based paint because baby likes to taste anything she splashes in.
Do put plastic or dropcloth under your paint bucket and preferably all over the floor of the room you are working on.
Don't let baby stand on your paint bucket. When she tips it over, the lid will come loose spilling paint all over.
Do secure baby someplace safe before cleaning up spilled paint from the carpet so she doesn't track it through the house.
Don't let the paint spilled on the carpet dry before cleaning it up.
Miah comes up with the funniest things sometimes. Today he spent the day at a friend's home while I was working on V's room. He noticed a picture of Jesus hanging on her living room wall.
"Why do you have a picture of Jesus?" he asked my friend.
"Because I like that picture of Jesus." she replied.
"Did you go to heaven and take that picture?" he wondered.
Of course having a photographer for a mom that WOULD be the ONLY way to get a picture of Jesus, right? Makes sense to me.
While V is off at Junior Camp this week, I've been repainting his room. He is a self-proclaimed cowboy, so I went with a western theme. I still have more painting and a lot of decorating (curtains, shelves, ect.) but the messiest of the job is done.
The faux wood plank wall took the longest, but wasn't nearly as hard as it looks like it could be. Using a wood graining tool dragged through brushed-on brown glaze gave the grain texture.
I'm hoping to place a video camera in his room when he walks in to see this surprise. Funny thing is that he was already hoarse from yelling and singing at camp as of yesterday (Tues. afternoon), so he probably won't be able to talk by the time he gets home.
Tonight as I was tucking Miah into bed, I told him I loved him. His response took me by surprise. "Don't say that anymore, mom."
"Why?" I asked feeling a little hurt.
"'Cause I took a picture of it in my mind so I could remember that you love me and you don't have to tell me anymore."
"Oh!" I'm glad he will always remember I love him, but I'm not going to stop reminding him.
While on vacation this summer I was working on some scrapbook layouts from our vacation to Virginia two summers ago. Here is one that I finished.
. . . when you have to have 5 ft of sub to feed your family.
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