Paint-By-Nightmare

Between first smiles, baby-giggles and morning cuddles life has been full of newfound joys. That said, when you're home all day with a baby you start going a little mental. The glaringly white walls were starting to look asylum-esque and I kept having this waking-dream of being a prisoner staring at the partially obstructed moon through the lace-curtain bars of my baby's room. (like Leonardo DiCaprio in Man in the Iron Mask...only with more screaming. And pink.)
There was only one thing for it: I had to paint.
And by "Paint" I mean everything in sight.
And by "I" I mean Marc.
No more white. White is for grownups who have left all the wonder and excitement of their carefree twenties behind them in exchange for dullness and responsibilities but I, I am a vibrant twenty-seven; Daring and full of personality; As confident in this new pant size as in this new stage of womanhood. A woman who must symbolically free herself of the oppressive and heavy mantle of White, discover her true (and way cooler) inner artist and re-ignite the boldness of her youth.
We had to paint the house.
So Marc took me to pick out colors. I love paint swatches. (I've always thought the paint section at Home Depot is like a happy and magical room made of rainbow...) Six minutes later, happy with my choices we drove home and I left Marc to his mostly-voluntary labour of love while I took Jade to stay with my mother for a few days. When I returned to my would-be-magazine-ready home I had to school my face to blankness while I fantasized about possible fates for Paint-Swatch-Guy. Someone had taken the "whisper yellow" paint I picked for the kitchen and swapped it for a horrid and sickly hospital-yellow. My bathroom plans had suffered a similar coup and the heartless vandals had left me with manically-bright baby-blue walls next to brown cabinets and brown tiles.
It looked like someone barfed on a Carebear.

"It's fine"
"You hate it"
"I don't hate it...it will be okay. It's not that bad..."
"I've been painting for three days. I'm not re-painting."
"I know. Ya it's fine. I'm sure it will grow on me..."
"I'm not re-painting"

Twenty minutes later we were back at Home Depot and my world was looking decidedly brighter. Not too bright. There's nothing wrong with beige after all. It's not like white. It's worlds away from white. Beige can be fun. You can still have a fun personality and a bright future with beige walls. *sniff*