My Painting Paradigm Shift

As a kid,  we moved quite regularly from rental to rental.  Now, my father was the all-around handyman.  He fixed cars, remodeled homes. did the yard work, shoveled the snow. One of our traditions before moving from house to house was the all-night painting session.  Now I was quite young in these days, but I remember crawling along the floor cutting-in around the trim, outlets and light fixtures.  It was my job for the night throughout the house.  My dad took great pride in his painting skills and he was good, very good.  In fact, before he died he painted my parents' entire house (minus his office and the random collections room).  The ceilings, walls, trim and doors all had to have fresh paint before his body and soul could rest.  So I grew up with the idea that painting is what dads do.  

Anne using the sink counter to reach the top of the wall. 

However, this male pride building idea of painting the house was completely turned Topsy-turvey Christmas day.  Edwin was discussing with his family my stack of paint chips labeled with each room that was to be painted.  Edwin doesn't like to paint and was expressing this dreaded wife project when I overheard the  Skype conversation, "Doesn't she know painting is woman's work?  Your mom did all the painting in our house."  

John stands on the toilet to paint around the light switches.

 Edwin had a weekend on call feeling trapped in the house without a wood project in the basement.  He went so far as to take over my prepping job, purchased a few quarts of paint, and began painting.  He did not finish the job and was happy to say, "You'll have to finish that up while I'm at work these next few weeks."  So, there you have it....One half bathroom is painted.  Edwin helped, and I finished it with the kids.  We all love the two-toned bathroom and I'm excited to finish the art project that is planned especially for this little room.

James applies a second coat.  Grace helped, but I failed to capture that eventful activity!

And now I know,  the house will be painted when I get the job done.  I'm pretty sure once I have the paint is in the house and the tools are out to remove certain fixtures, Edwin will "oversee" the project while I tend to the next child in need. 

But my "dad's the painter" world will never be the same.  I know now I will be the one wielding the roller and splattered clothing while the children all clamor to assist. Because I learned, this isn't just for dads anymore!