A breath of fresh air

Last weekend I had a little painting party at my house. My room and the boys' room desperately needed to be painted and I had been putting it off because I knew how long it would take me to paint them by myself and I just didn't have it in me. My mom suggested that I invite my beloved family members to help me with this task and I happily took her up on the offer. So, on Saturday my dad, sister, and brother-in-law showed up decked out in painting clothes with a box full of painting supplies and we got to work. My mom was kind enough to entertain the children for the day which was just as helpful as if she were here painting, probably more so because the kids weren't sitting around bored and being ignored. We pounded out the rooms in no time and now every time I walk into the freshly painted rooms I just smile. They are so fresh and bright and I feel like a huge weight has been lifted. I didn't realize how much the previous colors were bringing me down, especially my own room. I despised the last color I chose from the moment it went up, but at the time I was hugely pregnant and didn't want to bother getting another color and so for the past 7 years I have been living in a khaki colored cave of sadness. No more, however. Now my room is fresh and open and bright and I feel like I can breathe again. It's a good thing.