When Rachel & I painted my blue wall in the dining room
just a few days before painting the foyer (right before Christmas - maybe you noticed?),
Rachel decided that she wanted to paint her room also. Blue.
Her room is small so we agreed that painting one wall would work better than all four. I told her that if she wanted it done, the only time we'd have to work on it would be during the summer.
She knew that in order to paint we'd have to be able to move furniture around in her room. Something for you to realize is that following in sacred family tradition, my daughter is a true packrat. In order to MOVE the furniture, we'd first have to FIND the furniture so I told her she needed to clean her room first.
The summer arrived then sauntered by. Sped. Flew. Passed.
A couple of days ago I realized that I'd been going about this all wrong. Instead of "cleaning" her room, I told her to "pack" and provided boxes. And she got busy.
Yesterday she kept coming to me with progress reports:
She: "I moved my bed"
Me: "And the boxes of hand-me-downs & winter clothes stored underneath?"
She: "Yes, Ma'am!"
She: "Could you help me move my dresser?"
Me: "Just a minute."
She, a few minutes later: "That's okay. Jacob helped me."
>Now isn't that a girl after your own heart, getting one of those big, strong guys in her life to help move furniture? :-)
I helped her move a bookcase then surveyed the room. It was almost time! We discussed what needed to happen next then she was off: laying down the newspaper on the floor, taping off the floor molding, bringing inside the needed tools, stirring the paint.
We were finished painting the wall before 3 p.m. Woohoo!
At horseback, Rachel again rode Callaghan (aka Arnold Horse-enegger) - no wild ride this time, he was a well behaved gent.
She & I showed off the blue paint spotting our arms & legs:
"This is the new color of Rachel's wall."
After supper, her brothers helped move her furniture back into place.
Today, she unpacks.
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