* i know the last post said that the laundry needed to be done and then just a little bit later in the exact same post, ‘at least the laundry’s done.’  I know. And if you understood my brain, or how this house works, or the cycles of ‘doneness’ laundry goes through here, then that wouldn’t seem contradictory at all. and if you read that and actually DID understand that it wasn’t a contradiction, then I am quite sorry because you clearly have laundry like I do AND a similar brain and, well, oh dear for you.

I’ve been painting. The walls were cracked, dented, scuffed, and had a few holes. So with Seth-4yr assisting with joint compound, we got the job done. Or so I thought.

But this morning we were off to a good start. I had Seth-4yr put on his paint jeans. I put on mine. They are a horrifically high waisted pair from who knows how long ago. I have been looking for a chance to wear a certain shirt my sister gave me a year and a half ago. It’s lime green, and in glitter letters across the chest it reads “Dollywood!”  There are neatly spaced rhinestones around the neck and around the hem of each short sleeve.

This is not my particular style, really. Or my sister’s.

At the time she gave it to me, I smiled and thanked her and had no idea when I’d wear it. Perhaps it should be noted that I do not have the necessary sparkly personality, or suggested body type that one might expect of a gal in a bright green, bedazzled shirt with the word Dollywood! across the chest area. Anyway. I wore it. Seth-4yr did not comment.

We discovered, oh so not helpfully, that the huge selection of paint cans in the garage was so so huge because we decided to move all our old paint cans from the last house we lived in. Not our best decision. So if you want to match a beige/cream/neutral of some sort, you also have to make sure it doesn’t match a beige/cream/neutral that we mighta used in our old house. Which is not that easy.

But it IS easier than making sure it isn’t a beige/cream/neutral that the painters we hired a few years back used that actually didn’t match anything at all. It LOOKS like a wall color we have. But no. It’s the Mistake Paint from those painters and it matches nothing. It just makes slightly lighter streaks when you use it for ‘touch ups.’ Just enough so you think it’s perfect, and will look exactly right when it dries. Except that OH NO THAT’S NOT HAPPENING. And there are streaks in the kids’ bathrooms and in most halls, closets, and the stairway now, because Seth-4yr and I were REAL thorough today.

A few years ago when these painters were here and we realized the existence of the Mistake Paint, and its liberal usage throughout the house, I’d had enough. I hated the painters. I hated the paint. We’d been displaced for 6 weeks due to a crazy flood and we were finally back home, but then so were these painters, ‘fixing’ the last details of the house. Those painters were there. All the time. So when we realized they were painting everything wrong, I just begged Mike to let them finish and leave and I promise I won’t CARE that they’re using Mistake Paint that doesn’t match anything. Really, Mike. Let’s not even tell them! Shhh, our little secret! And so we did. And I didn’t care. We repainted over all that ourselves later, and forgot about the whole stupid thing until today. When, once the paint dried, oh my gosh it doesn’t match and why does this seem so familiar and oh no no no no!  it’s the stupid Mistake Paint. A souvenir from the painters.  It wasn’t enough for them to paint everything wrong the first time, they had to leave me their leftovers so i could do it too, years later.

I have no idea if the actual Non Mistake Paint is in the garage somewhere. I’m not looking today.

It’s not a beige/cream/neutral kinda house. We used three different blues, a yellow, and a green today also. We got after it. Years ago we let the kids pick their paint colors. Well, Kim-15 yr and Ethan-9 yr. Caden-5yr got a room in “Las Vegas Yellow” because I was only 99% sure he was a boy and I had to tell the builder what color… and I don’t know why it had to be Vegas. Anyway. Las Vegas Yellow is FROSS all these years later, and now it’s Seth-4yr’s room.  Also? It’s crazy to let your kids really pick their own paint colors. Ethan’s room is two shades of fluorescent green that can make your whole body itch if you aren’t used to it.   And six years later,  nobody’s used to it.

Today I learned that perhaps NONE of the kids have ever washed their hands. Not once. None of them in all their collective years. Their walls are grody. And also? Lots of dirt, grime, crayon, marker, pencil, shoe scuffs, and all kinds of stuff I decided to paint over rather than try to scrub off first. I’m just like that.  It worked. Except in the areas where I used Mistake Paint, and now all that crap is just highlighted.

Seth-4yr just sat down next to me after hurting his hand and crying his head off and somehow that combination caused him to throw up a rice krispie treat all over both of us.  Which reminds me of a brilliant realization I had and have been meaning to share.

All those mothers out there who tell horror stories about labor and birth?  Those stories in no way reduce the number of women who want to become mothers. I don’t know why. But it doesn’t. And that’s fine. That’s cool.  I’m glad I didn’t discover this until after I had all my darling four kids. Because if those mommies had just ONCE told me how many times in the first 5 years of a kid’s life, i would be inadvertently VOMITED UPON, I would have so been done and over the whole parenthood thing so fast.

Don’t worry. I changed clothes earlier.  Bright green rhinestone DollyWood shirt is fine.