...of my house. Because apparently paint fumes aren't good for pregnant women. Which I totally get and I want the absolute best for my little one but I'm having a darn hard time letting go. You see we're in the process of painting our room. And it sucks. I want to be in there taping things off and painting like a crazy woman to get it all done! But unfortunately I cannot. And even more unfortunate, my husband can't paint worth a darn. And I mean that in a loving way. You see my father and mother have always told me that in every marriage there is one who is a good painter and the other is usually a spazzy slob. And my darling dearest is the spazziest and slob doesn't even cover it.
So in the Lester household we are currently
it really sucks being sent out of my house. I want to help so badly. It is frustrating and overwhelming. But I'm trying really hard not to discourage him and point out the spots he's missed or where he's laying it on much to thick. I'm trying to just have faith it'll come together in the end. But today husband and I decided Picasso needed a little break.
So I'm patiently waiting for this room to come together. And trying not to shoot the man I love and hopefully I'm going to be able to start working on some other projects now to keep me busy and from constantly going out and checking up on him and the painting and all that.
See I just wanted to share the photographic evidence of my husband's severe lack of painting skills. In other news I'm really thrilled with the color we picked to cover up the weird blue-gray color.
...look how proud he looks..ugh.