I have a terrible sense of timing.
Last week was one of the most stressful of the year. I knew that. I knew it was coming. And yet I still allowed myself to begin a huge project the week prior to that because . . . the world may never know. I’m insane? That’s probably it.
Anyway, the stars aligned and the bunk bed I was buying on a Buy, Sell, Trade site for Rainbow finally became available. Because Rainbow was going to get her bunk bed, that meant Colby could have her old bed, since he was still sleeping in a crib without one side. (He is six, after all. I suppose it’s time.) But before I did that, I wanted to paint Colby’s bedroom. Why? you may wonder. This is why:
Not only was it very messy. It was also pink.
Of the Pepto-Bismol variety. It was like this when I moved into the house nine years ago. I didn’t like it even then.
I bring procrastination to a whole new level. (Colby’s so lucky he gets to share his room with all my sewing stuff. He doesn’t complain, but that might be because he’s got the vocabulary of a two-year-old . . .)
So, due to this golden opportunity, I decided to paint.
A nice, fresh white.
You might argue that white has no personality, but after all the “extra” personality from the pink, I was happy to give it up. Besides, I had a few ideas to make it Colby’s own.
(He likes it, by the way. He didn’t show any reaction to the white, but he is pretty excited about the road.)
Add a new bed . . .
A few favorite things on a magnet board . . .
And Mom’s sewing stuff (sorry, kid, there’s really no where else to put it) . . .
And you get a new room! One that was done at an incredibly inconvenient time, but that has lots of room to build trains and slide and sleep in your own bed (instead of schlepping in with Mom).