Alice: You look like Cinderella.
Me: I look like Cinderella? That's the nicest thing anyone's said to me all--
Alice: No! You the mommy.
Well, maybe considering the awesome case of bedhead I had this morning, I could be considered pre-pumpkin, pre-fairy godmother Cinderella?
***
Also this morning, I was downstairs and heard Clara say, "Peter, no! Ew! Yuck!"
I cam upstairs to see what she was overreacting about and found, for once, she wasn't. He had tipped over one of the paint cans sitting on the kitchen floor, and when I thought the lid was on sufficiently tightly, I was wrong. Flat white ceiling paint on the floor, soaked through his pajamas onto his legs, on his hands and face, in his hair. Alice seemed most concerned that there was paint on a snack container from the diaper bag. It wasn't much paint, but it sure covered everything thoroughly. Luckily latex paint washes off tile easily, and thanks to the magic of rubbing alcohol and a toothbrush, it even came off the grout. Phew.
This is just the latest in a series of home refurbishing mishaps. Turns out trying to fix up a house while living in it with four small children, doing most of it on nights and weekends, is kind of hard. And the more I do, the more I find that needs to be done. I'm thinking, though, that I need to quit while I'm still marginally ahead. Rubbing alcohol can only do so much.
Oh, and fixing up our house? We're thinking of moving this year. If I don't get into a bigger kitchen soon, I might lose my mind.
