Painting . . . the floor

I often don't realize that my son is ALWAYS watching me. We had one of those wonderful "I see you" moments yesterday. Let me start out by saying I am not one of don't touch this, don't spill that kind of moms. Everything in our home is washable. If you can break it: we probably owned it, broke it, and then I had to throw it out. In fact I was given a few beautiful antiques when a great aunt passed away and I had to let them go as I constantly had to worry about little man knocking them over or trying to sit or climb on them. All those long spindly legs had to go. I think all white homes are beautiful, but realistically there is no way we could live there. I don't know if its a boy thing or just my little guy, but I would live in constant terror if I had a linen couch and white floors.

So after 10 years in our home you can imagine all the glow in the dark play putty, blueberry juice, and turmeric stains we had in our carpet. I say had because . . . I just kinda went for it. Maybe it was lack of sleep, or all the (its so simple even you can do this) Youtube videos or it could have been I just couldn't stand it. I pulled up all the tack strips and carpet foam and cut out my carpet in our dining area and started painting. Now I did not sand or patch or prime, I simply grabbed a 2" paint brush and gallon of Kilz Over Armour and began painting. That is when he saw me. I caught little man watching me paint our floor with a mixture of humor (I was painting a floor after all) and confusion (aren't we supposed to try not to get paint the floor ?) Here is how its looking. Wish me luck on the living room.