With heavy renovation work being done by Jason and a multitude of helpful friends downstairs, I've begun to feel quite useless. I would say I feel like a useless tit, but apparently my tits will be nothing but useFUL in the coming months!
SOOOO, I decided to start painting the nursery! The walls of our old den are rooster red, a color I love love love! But I'm trying to create a loving environment for my happy baby, and NOT a fiery hell pit for my ANGRY baby. So alas, no red room. Sigh.
After I had packed all FOURTEEN boxes of books out of the bookshelves, Jason came upstairs to move all the furniture into the middle of the room for me. I draped a giant dropsheet over the entirety so it now stands like a Saran-wrapped island in the middle of the room.
I attempted to don my regular painting duds. I managed the shirt, but had to resort to pajama pants since my jeans no longer fit! Then it was the chemical respirator - "LUKE, I AM YOUR FATHER"... nothing says sexy like Gas Mask Lady.
I quickly realized how much my center of gravity has shifted and how unbalanced I am perched on a ladder anything higher than two steps off the floor! Luckily I could reach everything from the second step, since Jason had already taped the crown mouldings for me.
This morning I got the room primed. So the walls are a beautiful streaky pink.
Pepto Bismal room. Blech. At least my baby's stomach will be settled if I get nothing else accomplished.
Progress pics to come...
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