Our PEPS group (well, Liz, Jen and I...and the ladies of course)painted pottery today. Yikes. If you have an 18 month old or ever have, you know that's putting your life at risk. And if you are a neat freak, clean-aholic like myself, this decision to partake in painting is even scarier.
But, you have to live a little, right? Especially with a very curious 18 month old daughter.
We borrowed one of Luke's old tees (so sorry Luke, it's now covered in light green, sunshine yellow, and peach paint)and the ladies went to work. I decided this time around (we painted an ice cream bowl for daddy last Father's day) that Lilah got to do it all: dipping the paint (her favorite, DIPPING!!), and slapping on that paint. And, that's what she did. Slap, slap, slappity, slap. Granny - bet you cannot wait to get your beautiful vase. :)
The other girls did most of the same, although they seemed to eat less than Lilah. She thought it would be good to mix up her slapping with a bit of tasting. She soon found out though that it was quite nasty. She smacked and smacked a few times and just couldn't make the paint taste too good.
I should have gotten a picture of little Rory (2 months). She just sat in her bouncy seat, happy as a clam. I am going to start praying that our 2nd baby (which is not even conceived or close to being conceived yet) is like Rory. She barely makes a peep, just hangs out and watches the chaos...organized and not.
Again, thank you to the St. Clairs for letting us destroy your house for the 100th time and then rush off and leave you to clean the mess. Ugh! Sorry!:( We owe you a day of messing and trashing and dashing out without cleaning.
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