A purple kitchen

Tonight at dinner I sat at my usual spot, across from Clara. Behind her is the nastiest off-white wall full of chair scuffs, tape marks, food splotches and who knows what all. I have been forced to look at that hideous expanse of yuck since we moved here just over a year ago. I try to focus on Clara's sweet face, but when she sometimes chews with her mouth open, I look away...and inadvertantely catch sight of the wall. I guess tonight I made some remark like, "That wall is just disgusting!", to which Chad replied, "There's a gallon of purple paint in the garage." And that's all it took. I have been itching to paint this place...but free time isn't exactly something I ever have. So it seemed rather serendipitous that a can of paint (left over from painting the kitchen at our old house) was being dangled in front of me on an evening when my bag full of papers to grade had been accidentally left at school. Clara was instantly on board with the idea of doing something completely unheard of on a Wednesday night. She donned her "painting clothes" (an undershirt and tiny little shorts), I cleared out the table and chairs, and we officially began the de-beigeing of our house. We threw down some towels in lieu of tarps, and went at the kitchen armed only with brushes...couldn't find any rollers around, and a trip to Home Depot would have killed the moment.....and we painted not one wall, but two. It was exhilarating. I had forgotten how happy our old colors made me. I had also forgotten how rewarding it is to make such a big change in only a few hours.
Clara had a blast, and she was so determined to finish that I let her stay up until the first coat was done (I couldn't rob her of the satisfaction of the 'After', now could I?)
And a little side note:
Mad Guin and Brain Man are two cartoon characters invented by Chad, mostly to entertain the kids when we eat at restaurants. Every napkin on our table becomes a work of art. When Chad goes away on trips, we find little pictures of Brain Man (a guy seen only in profile, with a transparent skull containing a giant brain) and Mad Guin (an angry, flying penguin) hidden in drawers, under pillows, and in various other places around the house. They have become our family mascots. Here, you see that Chad couldn't resist the temptation to make a mural of Mad Guin:
The kitchen is far from done, but this was a great night.

Desert Dessert

One of the things that Trevor brought back from Arizona is a cookie cutter shaped like a saguaro cactus. We finally got around to making some saguaro cookies, and man were they yummy. (Thanks, Betty Crocker for making my life easier - mix, egg, butter....Presto!) The one problem with these cookies is that they are humongous (they're not called giant saguaros for nothing). One of these puppies is the equivalent of a week's worth of normal sized dessert for Clara and Trevor. Thankfully, Trevi would like to experiment with cookie shapes next time. Specifically, he'd like to make a boat cookie. I'm thinking dinghy, not yacht.

In Trevor's Room

I often refer to Trevor as the Virginia Woolf of three-year-olds, because he talks and plays in such a stream-of-consciousness way. He seems to develop the plots as he goes...according to the things he sees. I find it fascinating to watch, so I decided to get some of it on film. Here, Trevi manages to make a game out of coins, a toy bus, a cactus luminaria, Harold the Helicopter, a Fisher Price house (thanks, ebay, for helping me relive my childhood), and an inverted garbage can. I did no editing (as you can tell), so these few minutes are exactly what was seen and heard in Trevor's room.



See what I'm saying? Now, I do realize that this go-with-the-flow thing is not unique to Trevi, but it is one of his lovable qualities. And he has thousands.