The 5 Stages of Painting With Your Children

If you are a parent, at some point you will come to the place in life where your kids want to change the color of their room. For us, this moment has been brewing for about a year. When we moved into this house, the entire interior was painted mint green. And I mean everything. Bedrooms, hallways, bathrooms, CEILINGS, all of it. The kids didn't seem to mind the color as much as I did, so I got busy eradicating the green room by room. For months, weekends and evenings were consumed with brushes, drop cloths, rollers, color choices and long hours wishing I had hired a professional to do the whole house, not just the vaulted ceilings and the living room. 

The kids have patiently waited their turn in line as the hallway, bathrooms, laundry room, kitchen and master bedroom all slowly shed their green hue. But finally discussions began about when we would paint their rooms.  

And....can they help?

Oy. 

I would like to tell you I'm one of those cool moms who is able to easily hand their kid a paint roller and let them go crazy "helping" paint their room. I would love to say I don't care about the paint dripping in the wrong places or the less than perfect cutting-in along the ceiling. 

But I'm not that mom. I'm not a perfect painter myself, but I'm confident that I'm more skilled than a 10 or 12-year old. I have some basic standards. So when it became clear that my daughter was done being patient about getting her room painted, and she fully expected to participate in the process, I had to do some emotional preparation. I've got Montessori roots so I know all about how important it is to allow children to help in real and tangible ways. And I'm a bit of a control freak. 

I wasn't sure how it would all work out, but we did manage to get most of the paint on the walls even with two junior "helpers".

And now I'm pleased to share with you the five emotional stages of painting with your children. 

Stage 1. Excitement
Picking a new color, slapping painters tape all over everything, removing all the outlet covers and wall decor is the fun part, Everyone is happy and feeling excited about this new adventure. "It's only a little paint." You think to yourself...tricking your brain into forgetting the reality of every other painting project you've done over the past 30 years. 

Stage 2. Confidence
As you finish up the prep and begin applying paint to the walls, you're feeling certain that you are the best, most patient mom on the planet and you will take full advantage of this beautiful opportunity to teach your children a new skill. You offer basic instruction to help them be successful. You gently correct their technique with respect and kindness. You respond quickly and calmly with a wet rag when the paint needs to be wiped away from places it doesn't belong. The kids are doing their very best to keep things neat and clean. You. Got. This. 

Stage 3. Fatigue
After a few hours, you are reminded that painting actually isn't a 'quick' project. It always takes two coats, even when you do your very best to lay it on thick and even. It's hot working up on the ladder when it's pushing 108 degrees outside. As soon as you find your groove, you run out of paint and have to go back to the store for another gallon. The kids start to disappear for "breaks" that seem to go on longer than necessary. You face the wall so you can roll your eyes without hurting anyone's feelings. You come to terms with the fact that this is clearly not a one day job. 

Stage 4. Chaos
Your son turns around and you realize he has, at some point, leaned his entire body up against the wet wall of paint. The kitten can't resist the liquid jug of goo and insists on dipping a paw into the paint can. Your daughter has somehow convinced you she is capable of cutting in around the ceiling and you don't even care anymore. Because, as she reminds you, it is her room. A word (or two...or ten...) comes out of your mouth that is not PG. The kids spend more time debating about what music to play than actual painting. 

Stage 5. Completion
Eventually you manage to finish the job. Paint is mostly in the right places. You remind the kids that the job isn't actually finished when all of the bedroom furniture is still sitting in the living room. Tarps are folded and returned to the garage. Brushes are cleaned. You head out to dinner and toast your rookie painting crew on their first, largely successful, painting job. 

Forgetting entirely about stages 3 and 4, everyone gets excited about picking a color and painting the next bedroom....

Unplug to Charge Up

When I think about my favorite places to be, unplugged really tops the list. In our tech-heavy, over-connected world, setting my phone aside and being still feels like a unique luxury. 

I begin each morning by unplugging and hanging out on my back patio with no agenda but to finish my cup of coffee. I listen to the birds, watch the sprinklers, notice the sky and the temperature. Sometimes I think about what I have to get done that day. Sometimes I think about nothing. Mostly I just sink into this little slice of stillness and soak it all in. 

During the workday, I'm mostly tethered to a phone and/or a computer. This constant presence of technology allows me the convenience of working from home, or really any place with a good wifi connection. While I appreciate this flexibility and the miracle that is remote work, at the end of the day I find myself craving something (anything) that doesn't involve a screen. Sometimes I scratch this itch by taking a walk, or working on my crocheted blanket that has been in progress since March, or getting lost in the kitchen throwing something together for dinner. I read a book. I work on puzzles. 

The irony of typing these words on a computer is not lost on me. 😀

But when I think back on the most meaningful connections and moments of 2020, during the height of COVID quarantine, I'm surprised at the connection that technology facilitated. While we all huddled alone in our houses, our only method to connect was over the computer. These screens that were tools of disconnection suddenly became our lifelines to anyone outside our family or quarantine bubble. 

My book club continued to meet online, providing inspiration to keep up with my reading habit and the opportunity to keep connecting with this group of women that has buoyed me for the past 15 years. 

My gaggle of high school girlfriends that usually gather only once a year, suddenly found ourselves with time to connect more often. Cancelled soccer games and working from home meant more time in the evenings for biweekly zoom calls to catch up, laugh and share stories. 

When a mom friend passed away suddenly, the other mamas didn't quite know what to do. Normally we would be gathering in someone's kitchen to cry and drown our sorrows. So we gathered on Zoom to cry and connect at some basic level. 

Though I was dubious about its effectiveness, I led two, 8-week mind-body skills groups via Zoom. The groups offered a place for people to connect, share, learn and grow in  meaningful ways that I never imagined possible on a virtual platform. 

Now as we begin to emerge from the isolation of COVID it's interesting to see how we have all weathered the storm. Suddenly an in-person meeting is a novelty. Going out for dinner seems like an exotic treat. With everything that managed just fine online during COVID, I'm suddenly re-thinking what really needs to happen in-person.

After decades of being used as a tool to zone out and disconnect from those around us, the internet has proven its ability to be the great connector. But in-person gatherings with friends and family have taken on new meaning as we realize that a life lived behind a screen is actually no life at all. The internet is an incredible tool that created moments of connection when we were most desperate for it. And its ability to be a tool of isolation, endless scrolling and mindless searching is still real. 

As I tiptoe back into the real world again, I have profound gratitude for the internet and all that it provided for us during the pandemic. And even greater appreciation for the true connections to nature, ourselves and other humans, that only come when we choose to unplug. 

Castle Crags, A spectacular place to unplug. 
During a pandemic, or any other season of life.