Some might say it's a miracle we *haven't* had any broken bones or stitches, given the amount of backflips done around here. Well, we made it nearly five years. Our streak ended this weekend, when a backflip off the end of the couch landed Calvin's head on the hearth, a few scary moments and then a trip to the ER. Blessedly, it all went well--he was enamoured with the nurses and doctors (thank heavens for a seperate pediatric ER, by the way), and in particular with the johnny he got to wear (oh, yes, a request has been made for one). And so, with a few staples ("Ha! You can call me staple-head now!"), we were on our merry way, counting our blessings that it wasn't worse. And trying to figure out how we're going to keep him from hitting his head on anything for the next 10 days. Oh my.
Also in the asking-for-a-miracle department, Steve and I have a serious project ahead of us this week. As we thought about getting Calvin a desk for his birthday, I longingly remembered my own childhood desk--which belonged to my mother before me. I loved that desk--the swivel chair, the rolltop, and wanted desperately for Calvin to have the same one. My parents managed to dig it up and out of the basement and gladly parted with it. And then I got it home. Oh my.
The desk itself is fairly sturdy, but otherwise, it's a mess. And the paint (in that crazy french provincial color scheme that my *entire* bedroom was in) is seriously caked on, and I can't tell what's underneath. Here's where I usually get in over my head in furniture projects--to strip or not to strip? Or just paint over? And what color? Oh my. We've got 7 days to pull this thing together. Yikes.