I’ve decided that late night house painting releases the same hormonal imbalance as pregnancy. It stirs on random yelling spells, followed by laughing, fatigue, carpal tunnel syndrome, and a craving for h0agies. At least that was how I experienced the art of painting walls last weekend.
On top of that, my nick name is 10:00 p.m. terrorizor, because after 10:00 p.m. I pretty much shut down due to the massive concentration of events that usually packs a mom’s day. After a long day of multi-tasking, working, motivating, pushing, cleaning, selling, creating, writing, taking care of my kids, and my kids go to bed, I either want to pass out in bed next to my toddler, or veg out in front of the tv and watch stupid reality television and eat bad food that I won’t let my kids eat.
But what usually ends up happening, are intense sessions of laundry folding or article writing or bill paying or yadda yadda yadda. You know the drill. Having the many blessings to take care of. So my tired self rebels and turns into the Warner Brothers angry lion that’s stuck in a cage with a tooth ache. I know that doesn’t make much sense, but it’s edxactly 8:37 as I write this sentence, which is almost like 10:00 p.m. today since we’re supposed to set the clock ahead an hour. Ok I’m still not making sense. Sometimes the 10:00 p.m. terrorizing starts at 8:00 p.m. when the kids begin heading to bed.
The point is, starting to paint the downstairs bonus room and bathroom with my husband at 11:00 p.m. was probably not the best idea. But, then again, it’s the only choice when you have fun little babies to play with during the day that won’t leave a rock unturned. So, we embarked on the journey, and here is what I accomplished:
- I procrastinated getting started ’till about 11:30 while I talked to an old friend on the phone about nothing.
- Spilled a quarter bucket of primer on the floor, and used my favorite Sham Wow wipes to clean it up.
- Kicked over and spilled my husband’s beer. We opened another one, and I kicked that one over too. I wiped it up.
- Threw a tantrum when I discovered the concept of primer. Meaning, when I discovered that the first coat of painting wasn’t actually paint. I’m a pro at this.
- Snuck upstairs and took a really long time to go to the bathroom.
- Pretended to pick a fight so Id have a reason to storm off and go to bed. My husband just looked at me blankly and waited for me to give up and continue painting.
- Got primer all over two electrical sockets.
- Ran out of primer.
So, needless to say, we were at it again the day after. Husband finished priming while I was at work/ taking care of the kids/ etc. And late that night, we were back to work. And I don’t know what happened, but my daylight work mode kicked in. I was all into the details of painting the bathroom, the closets, the walls, the ceilings, and even stayed up later than I’d told my husband I would so I could wait for the paint to dry and see if I needed to touch up any details.
Of course my husband had to re-touch up a lot of my paint, and reinstall new sockets since I painted over a couple more, but I got it done! I finally had a hand in this whole renovation experience in our house! And my husband was equally as proud, I think, because he’s already plotting our next house renovation project for us to do together!