This Is How I Roll

It's been awhile since I've painted the east bedroom.  Truth is I couldn't really get past the fact this room was designed by my child.  She chose the bedding, the paint color and the trim color.  This room smacks of her tastes and I find it endearing.  She is now a woman but that's beside the point.  She no longer lives with me and that's beside the point, too.  She is doing what she's supposed to be doing:  school; living in the east; fostering relationships with friends, educators, and artsy likes.  Yep, she's living her dream. And so, after much hemming and hawing I went from her Island-y choice of Ralph Lauren's Agean Blue...

....to my warm-ish, sophisticated Ralph Lauren Truss.  

It looked good on a swatch so I high-tailed it over to my handy-dandy home improvement store and took a look.  I thought I might opt for a gray color and saw enough samples of rooms done just perfectly and beautifully but I just couldn't pull the trigger on such a cool color.  I wanted warmth.  I asked the young man helping me:  "what is your best painting tip?"  He smiled and said:  "be sure to put down drop cloths."  He was right.  I knew that from experience.  He took a look at my paint choice and asked me if I was painting a garage or basement. "No" I replied, "I'm painting a girl's room." 

Once home, thankfully the room had already been patched, sanded, washed and taped off.  Grabbing a brush and paint bucket I got busy. 

Almost from the start I could have used a hand.  I do not like painting alone.  The entire process is easier with someone to talk with and laugh with.  And believe me there are plenty of things to laugh about...or...at.  Like my thinking I had stepped on the first rung of the ladder when I had really been two steps high and KERSPLAT, right on my rear I tumbled.  And *snap* not a single splatter of paint.  I'm good that way. 

After a little cutting in I was beginning to think I made a mistake.  The new color looked like a facial mask--a mud mask, I tell ya!  Was I really prepared to cover the walls?  After all, if these walls could talk they would tell of late night tears and sorrows; late night dreams and pondering life's journeys; late night stories being read by Momma; early morning tickle-fests; dressing for prom and homecoming and oh the laughter!  I can still hear the little girl voices laughing and laughing in that room!  Was I really ready to paint over those talking walls?  I wasn't ready at all.  Only one thing to do.  Take a break; wipe my tears, and eat lunch.

After I cut in I stepped back and took another good look. 

I still wasn't thrilled but kept going.

At last she was done.

Notice I've left the tape on the walls; the drop cloths on the furniture and the ladder in the room.  I've given myself 3 days to fall in love with it or do something else.  I've already set aside an array of paint chips while my creative juices are on high alert.

I'm only speculating but I think I need to visit my home improvement store; track down my helpful sales fella and let him know my favorite painting tip:  hire someone else to do it!  Because that's how I roll!