Painting

Today I painted my old bedroom again, which is now Maddie’s room. This bedroom’s paint color has almost always been a thorn in my side, even though I’ve repainted it numerous times. Paint just doesn’t look good in there. I don’t have this problem anywhere else in the house, so I am not indecisive, nor do I have problems making a commitment.

I believe this room was light pink when we moved in 11 years ago, with matching cat pee-soaked shag carpet. I began the transformation by putting a wallpaper border on the wall next to the ceiling, and painting the walls light yellow. I had a matching blue and yellow comforter.  Our mattresses were on the floor, but hey – we didn’t need a bedskirt, OK?

A few years later, while pregnant with Rebecca, I tried to tear off the wallpaper border. Uh uh. I ended up chiseling through plaster. So…Marcus put up crown molding, and I put a NEW very wide navy floral border next to the molding. Light yellow paint still prevailed on the walls.

After Rebecca’s arrival, I begged Marcus to let me paint again, but he told me I just had to live with it for a while. A joke began around the house about pregnant women decorating while under hormonal duress. I fretted for several years, but finally talked myself into scraping off the horrid 2 layers of borders I had put up. This took days and days with a rented steamer. (Side note:  I have never steamed off wallpaper when it was less than 90 degrees outside, making it around 120 in the room I’m working in.)Then I had to fix the wall underneath. Then I did the right thing: I painted my room “Tuscan Terra Cotta.” I loved it. It actually made my room warmer. My mom pointed out the color was really orange. In fact, it was the same orange she had upholstered on her wing back chairs I grew up with, which I had always ridiculed. I am old enough to realize what goes around comes around, and I was bringing back the 70’s orange. But I like it much better as “Tuscan Terra Cotta.”

The perfect color was moved to our new bedroom after Marcus built our addition.  Then we needed to repaint our room for Maddie.  What did I choose?  Light yellow.  More hideous than before.  Maddie and I admitted we had made a mistake a few months after painting.  You can never admit you’ve made a mistake right away, because it was too much work and it wouldn’t matter – I’m not painting it again anyway.

Maddie and I had been looking for the perfect color for months, and finally found it in Steve and Jen A.’s new family room when we helped their family move in.  I asked Jen for the color, and we were in.

We didn’t get off to a good start, because Maddie had Amelia Bedeliaitis.  She was so excited I was finally painting, she taped off all the trim for me in the morning. Unfortunately, she put all the tape(even the crown molding) on the wall next to the trim. I really couldn’t believe it when I saw it. I asked her what her rationale was, and she said you paint the wall, then pull off the tape and paint around the trim. Hmmmm.

After pulling all the tape off, I started trimming with my glorious “Sage Gray.” It looked pretty blue when I first applied it. By the time I had gotten about half done, Ashley walked in, looked at me askance, and told me it looked like Aunt Rachel’s living room. It’s blue. I feigned a smile and painted on, starting to have my doubts. Actually, it didn’t look like Aunt Rachel’s blue, it looked like Aunt Naomi’s blue dining room.

Then came Marcus. He said it looked like the blue border I had put up when I was pregnant with Rebecca. That wasn’t very encouraging.

Katherine came in independently of Marcus, repeating the same verdict.

To my credit, the paint dried and turned “Sage Gray.” It is a bit dark, but nice. It looks similar to the color Aunt Naomi painted her family room a few years ago, but definitely not the blue in her dining room.  Go figure.

Note:  Go to the library and check out a book about Amelia Bedelia if you don’t know who she is!

VBS

Mary, Karen, me and Katherine

It is difficult to share my true, rotten feelings publicly, because I want everyone to think better of me. I have realized part of this blogging process is revealing what goes on in my head for all (all 4 of you) to see. I will take a deep breath and let the revelations begin.

When I saw the VBS sign up sheet in the church bulletin, I ignored it. The last thing I want to do this summer is VBS. I am old enough that only 1 of my kids would actually be participating. Let the young moms help. I’ve put in my time.

Tanya D., the VBS leader, sends out e-mails pleading for help. Apparently everyone is in denial, as I am. She gets up in front of Sunday school, stating her case as well as any prosecuting attorney. I feel a twinge.

My daughter, Katherine, who gets after it, signs up to help with snacks the next Sunday. I wince, as I realize I will have to drive her in every day. I know that helping is inevitable, and by the next week I sign up for a snack helper too, which seems like a good, wimpy job.

I show up at snacks and realize there is not much for me to do, because Karen P. has handled all the planning, and Mary K., Katherine, Maddie and I only have to set out treats, pour some water, and clean up.

I am blessed beyond anything I can imagine, of course. I know this happens most of the time I serve. 90% of the time is very rewarding, and maybe 10% isn’t so great. Here is how God blessed me for my minimal contribution:

1. The first day Ann B. brought scones for the helpers. That’s me. I also asked Ann how she is doing, and she shared how God had been working in her family’s lives. I am so happy for her, and encouraged by God’s faithfulness.

2. Karen P. is delightful. I have only gotten the chance to talk with her a couple times before, but we talked about something interesting every day. I really like her, and she became another face I will really miss at Zion.

3. I had the opportunity to talk with and tease teenage girls. They are marvelous. On the day of the picnic, there was panic when Kelli realized the hot dogs were still frozen, and we had no lighter fluid to start the grill. Brittany B. and I started laying out dogs to thaw them faster, which soon turned into hot dog sculpture. I need to find out how to get the picture of this delightful piece of work from my phone to here.

4. Tami F. has been having special migraines, which resemble seizures. I’ve been praying for her for months. She came into the kitchen frequently, where I was able to ask her how she was, watch her take her glucose levels which were all over the place, listen to her tell me the doctors want her to come in for 5 days so they could try to induce a seizure to see what is going on, and try to encourage her. The last day she came in looking for ice for her son, who had fallen out of the car when she opened the door, and conked his head. She looked at me and stuttered, “Can’t talk.” She was having an episode. I told her to try to show me how to help without talking, as we found ice for her son and found a remedy for her daughter’s poopy diaper. I felt privileged to help her, and will continue praying with renewed vigor for her healing.

5. Hot dogs continued to entertain me, as Amanda P. and I giggled as we filled buns with hot dogs as fast as we could for the line of hungry, hot people. I used dogs to guide people through line(like the the guy who guides airplanes with his little pointers), and got down with my immature self – which isn’t too far below the surface. I told Amanda and Barb N. this job was way too fun, and I was signing up next year.

6. Because I was at VBS, I immediately heard the news that Barb will be Grandma Barb, and that she told her son Austin that he will be an uncle by giving him a diaper with mustard and raisins in it. Priceless. Little baby pooh really does look like raisins and mustard – how did I miss this?

7.  As we were cleaning up residue from the picnic, Kelli turned to me and told me she had had a dream the night before, and she woke up crying.  It was about the church plant.  I wanted to give her a big hug, but I knew I’d turn into mush.  Then Rebecca T. walked in, looked at us, and told us she was getting out of there before she started in too.  I’ve never loved Kelli more than I did when she looked at me that day.

Next year I should really just sign up at the beginning of the VBS campaign. But I will probably procrastinate again, because of my short memory.

P.S.  This blog and those to come are dedicated to Kerri, who responded to the Holy Spirit’s suggestion to encourage me.