Today was a long day.

Not the kind of long day where you forget to eat lunch.

The kind of long day where you take down fourteen Christmas trees and still say that number out loud like it’s normal.

Every room in our house has a theme. Every room.

Which means every room also has a personality, an opinion, and a box labeled fragile but emotionally loaded.

Somewhere between tree number seven and tree number nine, I made the mistake of thinking:

We should freshen things up.

Enter: Lowe’s.

I went in for paint because the bathroom “started something.” I’m still not sure what it started, and I’m not sure I love it, but here we are mid-renovation, mid-life, and mid-delusion.

While we were at it, we decided to redo Lynnlee and Harper’s room.

New beds. New layout. A trundle so Kayson has his very own bed when he’s here.

I am, apparently, a sweet trundle-making goddess now.

We went with pink.

Yes, pink.

But it’s light pink, so it’s fine.

They also have the second primary suite in the house because logic packed up and left years ago, which means there’s an en suite bathroom. Harper chose the bathroom color.

It’s a grayish purple.

I told myself it would be fine once I paint the trim black.

This is a lie I tell myself often.

Then Justin—our Lowe’s paint guy, not my robotic genius son—leaned in and whispered about glitter you can add to paint.

Glitter.

At this point in the day, my decision-making skills were being held together by caffeine and denial, so I said yes. Because they’re only young once. Unless you’re like me, and when your youngest turns ten you start all over with two more.

Still. Glitter it is.

By the time we got home, I realized I had slept from 6:40 am to 8:30 a.m., which sounds slightly insane  until you remember I woke up and immediately did all the things again.

Eventually, I found a moment to sleep. Real sleep.

The kind where you wash your face and apply the magic serum that convinces you that you look 35 instead of 40.

I fluffed my pillow.

I lowered myself carefully.

I rested my head.

And that’s when I felt it.

Cool.

Wet.

It was not my freshly washed face.

It was not a skincare mishap.

It was Harper’s chocolate protein milk.

Of course it was.

Nothing reminds you who you are faster than laying your face in someone else’s protein drink after a day of glitter paint, pink walls, and poor life choices.

I thought that was the end.

It was not

Day Two: Hello Kitty Has Entered the Chat

Day two arrived with confidence.

False confidence. But confidence.

The room did get the glitter paint despite what the Lowe’s girl said about it being ok to  put glitter paint into a sprayer. Which, in hindsight, feels like common sense. But we trusted her. We trusted the process. We trusted the glitter.

Four filters and several hours later, the light pink room that was supposed to be soft and sweet dried into something… else.

Think Barbie pink.

Think aggressive.

Think Hello Kitty with opinions.

At this point, there was no turning back.

We assembled the bunk bed house with a slide.

And a trundle.

Because why not build a small amusement park inside a bedroom while we’re at it.

Twelve hours.

Twelve hours of decorating, organizing, purging toys and stuffed animals, dusting, vacuuming, and shampooing carpets because once you’ve crossed a certain line, you might as well keep going.

The room looked incredible.

The kids were thrilled.

Hello Kitty would have wept tears of joy.

Which means, obviously, we couldn’t just go to bed.

No.

We had to set Wednesday up for success.

So we did the dishes.

We swept the floors.

We got the kids bathed and teeth brushed.

Finally, finally, we crawled toward our bed.

Our sinfully comfortable bed.

Our to-die-for, soft, sleep-like-an-angel comforter.

And that’s when Kris saw it.

The cat.

Had thrown up.

On the comforter.

A white comforter.

With tiny, delicate blue flowers.

And the cat threw up like it was her job.

We cleaned it.

Bagged the comforter for the cleaners.

And I cried myself to sleep under the not comfortable, not sinful backup comforter, turned firmly away from the cat.

Tomorrow we’ll rest.

The glitter will sparkle.

The Hello Kitty room will live on.

But tonight?

Tonight I am tired, humbled, mildly sticky, and deeply suspicious of Lowe’s and honestly, of myself.

Tuesday Chaos.

Two days survived. 

Zero lessons learned.