I spent the whole weekend creating even more chaos here at Chez Jane. Yes, more.
Who'd a thought that possible.
Since Homer had come to a dead stop on the Mancave project, I moved on to something requiring fewer committee decisions - Omega's bedroom. I promised her a paint job over a year ago and she had finally picked out the colors, so I ran with it.
The ceiling was previously painted to look like blue sky and clouds - a very cool look, I thought, when combined with a vaulted ceiling and clerestory windows.
Cool for my kiddies, not so much for my teenagers.
Thinking all the while about how hard I worked on that ceiling, I attempted to obliterate it with stain-blocking primer. And a coat of ceiling paint. And another coat of ceiling paint.
That sky would not die!
While painting the ceiling, I noticed that the light fixture was cracked so I decided to buy a new one.
But maybe a ceiling fan would be nice.
Omega agreed via text so I bought one.
Two ceiling fans, in fact, because I couldn't decide. And really, how can you make up your mind unless you have your husband put both of them together from the 153 pieces in each box and hold all 84 pounds of each of them up to the ceiling. This one, then that one. Hmmm. Definitely that one.
He should thank me for the upper body workout.
So I painted the ceiling and the white trim and hung the fan and scooted off to pick up the paint.
She wanted pink. Two pinks, in fact.
Let me just say that we have dubbed Omega's room The Barbie Bordello. It takes more mental energy than I possess just to BE in that room. Which might be the plan.
But her stuff is in the hall... and the other bedrooms.... and the living room because I still have one more coat of everything to apply.
And the weekend is over.
Can it get any worse?
Of course it can.
Homer gets off the phone with his parents:
"They're leaving home on Wednesday."
"Where are they going?"
"Here. Which Wednesday?"
"This coming one."
(In full meltdown) "Whatthehell? We talked about Mother's Day. We talked about Father's Day! We did NOT talk about April 23rd!"
"Oh, well, let me just call them back and tell them not to come."
"What a relief! I was afraid you wouldn't be willing to do that."
But of course he won't.
And he shouldn't.
Because I like them and all....
But FOUR freakin' days NOTICE?
If the earth was ever going to crack open and swallow me up, now would be a good time.
But with my luck, I would survive and company would still come.
Oh, but then I'd have an excuse for the craptastically messy house!