Toddler Girls Room Paint

John asks…

I need help or advice about doing a fairy, angel butterfly nursery for my baby girl?

I don't want disney and cant afford to have someone come in and paint a mural. I am looking for pretty .... more than cute stuff. I can't find good wall paper/ border/ mural sites that have what I am looking for. Please advise on things I can do or things you have seen that will make her room look pretty. If you send links... please send link to the actual product. I work 50+hrs a week and have a toddler... time on computer is super limited. ty lots for suggestions...

admin answers:

Angel theme
http://girlsthemebedrooms.com/angels/Greek-Roman-Mythology-Decorating-Ideas.html


fairy theme
http://girlsthemebedrooms.com/fairy/fairy-bedroom-decorating-ideas.html

butterfly/garden themes
http://mariesmanor.hotusa.org/Garden/Bedroom_Decor.html

Mandy asks…

Anyone want to read my short story? Tell me your opinions. I'm 15.Its called 'simply the truth'?

This story is called 'Simply the truth'

“Be quiet, stop, leave me alone,” she cried, the girl ripped through the china doll’s hair so urgently and with such force that the doll’s delicate, long blond hair fell into her hands in little clumps. She threw the doll across the room, the cracked dolly lay there defeated and destroyed, “I’m never talking to you again” she chuckled, muttering under her breath. As she said this the room began to close in on her, getting smaller and smaller, darker and darker as each second passed by, all the sunshine from the day had disappeared in an instant and all that was left was a cold, brick wall surrounding her, she pressed herself against the wall and listened for any familiar noises or sounds, but they were all muffled and far away. “GET ME OUT, GET ME OUT, GET ME OUT,” she screamed violently, her fists clenched, her head throbbing with anxiety. Her voice had echoed back to her again and again from all different directions, other strange voices began to join in repeatedly like a trance, they walked through the walls, pulled at her clothes, teared at her hair and threw her to the floor. “I’m going to kill you,” she screamed, “I’m going to kill you all.”
“Wake up, love, breakfast is ready,” the woman had said, her teeth were decayed and brown, her smile sickly and transparent, looking around the room urgently, I knew I hadn’t been here before, my first instinct was that I was in some kind of institution because of all the different colored pills on the bedside table. The room was small and had no windows, it was painted pink and had tacky teddy bears and flowers, reminding the patients what a happy place we had come to, pulling myself up from the bed, there was an overwhelming smell of burnt toast and porridge, the woman beckoned me out of the room and down the long corridor. “Where am I,” I asked, the woman ignored me her smile fading from view, she continued to walk onwards, the heel of her shoe tap tap tapping the floor, she wore a large white uniform neatly ironed and washed, her hair was pinned back severely making her come across as strict and cruel, it wasn’t long before I was led to the canteen, with the door slammed shut behind me.
Sick looking children and grownups bustled past, a boy sat in a chair shaking his head whilst bobbing back and forward repeatedly, he began talking to himself frantically dropping porridge down his front T-shirt. An older girl around 15 or 16 was leant on the wall, she tightly crossed her skinny arms against her skeletal frame- she looked like she hadn’t eaten anything in days. She was behaving like a toddler, one of the women in white kept pointing to the food, but she clearly wasn’t having it, she tightened her thin lips in determination but it was no use, the woman had already forced her back in the chair, shoving food in her mouth like an animal. One of the tables was already set out for me, “eat this,” the women said forcefully, placing the knives and forks on the table, they were plastic and looked like they would break in an instant, looking down at my hands I noticed they were raw red, battered and bruised “why are my hands….,” “it will all make sense to you later,” the woman interrupted, but it didn’t.
I went back to my room after, and sat on the bed cautiously, I though hard about how I could get myself away from this loony bin, I tried to piece together the events that had lead up to me being brought here, it was useless, I couldn’t remember anything. Looking in the mirror, I gazed at my reflection like it was the first time in years. I had dark, heavy circles under my eyes and I was as pale as a ghost- I looked terrible, like I hadn’t washed, and had this terrible bruising across my face, I was always told I had my mother’s eyes but they looked so bloodshot and deathly I couldn’t see me anymore. My hair hung over my face limp, lifeless and thin almost as if someone had ripped chunks out of it.
One of the nurses made me sit down in the waiting room, I was called to a room where an intimidating man told me to sit down and answer his questions, “what’s the last thing you recall,” he asked, “I…uh…I don’t know,” ‘do you know where you are know?” he persisted “No, but I think you’ve got it all wrong, I didn’t....” “Charlotte, you need to calm down right now, I think you should go back to your room and rest, we’ll resume this little chat later.” Walking out of the counseling room I felt bitter with regret, I was helpless to the situation I was put in and there was nothing I could do to change it, I remembered how happy I once was and how everything smelt a whole lot sweeter before. It had been 3 weeks and 2 days and still no one bothered to come and visit me, I’ll never get used to it here, not after the way they treated me, I”m not crazy- I never was. Days like this I don’t know what to do with myself, all day and all night, I just wander the hallways and watch the trees sway from side to side by the wind, the leaves fal
Ah well, I never said I was a writer its an english assignment but eh win some, loses some....
thanks for the feedback, tell me the bits you think need working on... :)

admin answers:

Subject matter and style not bad - If you are serious about writing more, here is my two cents worth of advice: Open your spellchecker settings menu and turn on everything for detection including all grammar and style. Even if you reject some of the suggestions in favour of your style, through repetition of the exercise, you learn a lot about sentence structure, technicalities, etc. But having said all that, for 15 yrs old, it's also pretty decent technically. Well done. I encourage you to do more if it interests you. If you are up to it, maybe you might inspect my work sometime at www.nokilleye.com (see 'Erdman Gallery') and post a comment.

Lisa asks…

WHAT IS THIS DREAM ABOUT?

Dear Moses,
This dream I had was really weird.
I am 13 and male turning 14 on February, here is what happens (at least what I remember)

So me and my best friend were on a small playground (like the ones toddlers have in their backyard with only a slide, ladder, and a little square of room) and there was another playground that was about 30 feet away from ours and there were 2 girls there, one that I really liked and her friend, basically in the dream I was always staring at them and checking on them and the girl I liked kept on looking at me, so I would do things to impress them like do tricks on the monkey bars or something. But I was trying to not let my friend see what I was doing but I don't know why, I think it would be because he would make fun of me for it.
So the dream goes on like that and I eventually take off my shirt (which is really weird) and start to jump off the playground and go to the stairs of another building for some reason (they were still on my mind) and then Onision (famous youtuber) was there wearing his "hunting outfit". Basically he was shirtless and had camo paints on his face with really big nerdy goggles, he said he needed to dress like that so animals will be less fearful of him. So he was hopping around while squatting and I remember I started to walk with him for about 5 feet but then I woke up.
WHAT DOES THIS MEAN MOSES???

admin answers:

Slimmer, dear, if you are attempting to write to someone named Moses, you are on the wrong website. Here on YahooAnswers, your question is visible to (literally) everyone in the world, and there is no control over who reads and answers your question.

If you do not mind old Zia Lucia offering an interpretation, your dream expresses your developing attraction to girls. It is all about leaving childhood (symbolized by the playground) and moving up (symbolized by going up the stairs) toward adolescence.

In the dream, your best friend represents one side of yourself, the part of you that really isn't ready for girls and more grown-up interests. That is why you don't want that part of you to see you showing off for the girls, and he stays behind in the playground (childhood.) A different part of yourself is symbolized by Onision; this is the part of you that is beginning to develop new interests and more masculine attitudes.

This is a very good dream, Slimmer. Your mind is showing you that big changes are about to happen in your body and every other part of your life. That is really great to know. Excellent dream, very well done!

Robert asks…

Is the first chapter of my novel any good?

Well, first a little BG information. It's kind of a Gothic novel about a vampire hybrid who has a mental problem making her 'evil'. It IS a work in progress as well.
Chloe Everglade was a small, thin child of three and a half years old. She had jet black hair, the same colour as oil and it shone, no matter what the light conditions were. Her eyes were a surprisingly light pale blue, with one being darker than the other. She had a strange aura about her. As you approached a sense of thick blackness oozed from her. And by the time you reached her you had the undeniable urge to turn around and walk away from her, and that was what many lesser willed people did. She was left to fester and boil alone, and as time would show that can only lead to catastrophe.
She was enrolled at the local nursery, and it was living hell for her. The school was meant to cater for all levels of advancement, yet seemed determined to keep her at the finger-painting stage. She was, as you might say a child prodigy. She had always been antisocial, avoiding the other children because they bored her, and the games they played were too simple. After all a toddler will always hide in the same place during Hide and Go Seek, or run the same path during Tag, or even, on occasion of playing it, will always drop the ball during Time-Bomb.
Due to this she spent much of her time indoors, giving her a deathly pallor. She closely resembled vampires in story books, similar to Dracula and others. Rest assured when she went outside in the sunlight she did not sparkle, like the older children discussed at break.
At this moment in time Chloe Everglade was stood inside a Wendy House, avoiding the cold outside. A cold biting wind was carried on the November air.
trying to get a rather irritating child to leave her alone. His name was Jimmy Adams, not many people liked him because he was rather strange. Normally she would be drawn to that but he was simply stupid. His father was a farmer, deaing with potatoes and livestock. It was clear Jimmy spent a lot of time on the farm due to his unceasing tan and strange mannerisms. He could, however birth a cow and tell if one was due to give birth I the next few hours. A skill it takes most people not raised in that environment years to establish and properly employ.
He did not however have people skills. His approach to life was if you like the girl kiss her. Unfortunately for Jimmy he had chosen the wrong girl to like. After all if you play with fire, you are going to get burned.
The bell rang signaling the end of playtime. The children all trudged inside, all for their own reasons. Some wished to continue playing, others disliked their next activity and one very special child disliked the situation and company of their next source of entertainment.
Story Time.
It wasn't that she thought she could write a better story, it was that the story they were being read was less than entertaining. It was about a duckling, who was actually a baby swan but was shunned by the others because it looked different. If she had wanted a story about ugliness being shunned she would have read Phantom of The Opera by Gaston Leroux. A far more challenging read, and much more interesting too.
Walking onto the carpet towards the back left corner she she Jimmy Adams. His hands were splayed out behind him in a provocative manner. He was practically asking to be trodden on, an act which frequently happens in large groups of young children.It would be a challenge not to laugh at the sheer simplicity of the situation, after all how difficult could it be with so many people milling around. Her nursery was a posh, which made it more atrocious than naughty when she misbehaved particularly if there was an influential presence in the room such as there had been no more than five minutes earlier. However she was keen to cause the boy pain, as his attempts at romance were futile and had only succeeded in annoying her.
With a satisfying crunch her heel contacted with flesh and a high pitched cry emerged from Jimmy.
It was obvious her actions had caused him pain, when he screamed and ran off to the teacher, who was aged and yellowing, much like the pages of an old book similar to the one she was about to read. “Miss Fearnclose! Chloe Everglade stamped on my fingers.”
Now, not for the first time Chloe was going to lie. She was going to tell the teacher an intricately laced story, which only she knew. She was yet again going to prove the old bat wrong, more wrong than when the whole episode of schooling her began and she tried to teach her that it was easier to finger-paint than use a brush. Carefully she flicked through her dense catalog of stories and fictitious events until she recalled the one she knew she wanted. Slowly she began to speak.
Note: This is not the full chapter (too many letters)
If I changed the VAMPIRE aspect to a phaerie, would that be any better?
A note, I am 14 in a few months, and if I changed vampire to faerie would that improve it at all?

admin answers:

That's actually really good. Normally I woldn't be interested in that kind of story but halfway through reading this I tried to move on and found I couldn't, because it had just grabbed my attention and wouldn't let go. Are you going to publish this? I'd love to read the whole thing.

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