I've been camped out on the couch all week, which is an odd throwback to the couple of months I left Theo in my room while I slept on the couch before I moved him up to the attic. Access to our clothes is difficult since all the furniture is pushed together and covered in drop cloths, and I really wish I'd planned a bit better and not just left my dirty bed linens all piled on the bed along with other random objects that are now sealed in a plaster dust and plastic drop cloth cocoon.
There was brief hope yesterday that the floor guys would start tomorrow and finish Saturday, meaning the job would be done by Sunday. But now it looks like the painters may not even be done tomorrow. And so it goes. For sure by middle of next week, though, we'll be there.
I was glad Bobby didn't react badly to his room being painted over with wallpaper primer. I warned him about it for days, so when he finally saw it yesterday evening, he said he liked it. I'm not sure how he's processing all the changes. The last couple of days he's been pretty mean to me - I find myself repeatedly lecturing him about not hurting people's feelings and that saying certain things to people is mean; I'm not sure if he's acting out because of all the upheaval or if he's just at that phase of development.
When I was his age my mother was getting a divorce and dragging me and my sister into a series of flaky living arrangements, including one involving a woman who apparently had a crush on her and bent all the keys of my mother's typewriter when she was spurned. So...yeah. I think Bobby so far is living a way happier, more stable life than I did.
Here are some photos of the stenciling, including Banksy stencils, my sister painstakingly painted in Bobby's room that are now gone forever. *sniff*