You all may be surprised to learn that I am not crafty.
The Author, Poet, Violinist, Charcoal Artist, Photographer, Cook, Clean Freak is not crafty.
You give my playdough, I make you a snake. Or a bowl. Or something obscene.
Give me popsicle sticks, and I will check your throat for redness. Or put them in the trash.
And don’t even get me started on “art” made with food. Unless it’s Fruit Loops on a string that will quickly unknot, it ain’t happening. If they even make it onto the string to start with.
Pinterest does not help me with this inability. If anything, it makes me feel horrible as a mom, because I am just not capable of doing that crap. An yes, it IS crap. Because I can’t do it.
Stop judging me.
Want a fort made from a box? Here’s a box kids. Have fun with that.
Want a 4 cheese lasagna, with a chocolate cake for dessert, and have me play Phantom of the Opera on my violin, followed by poetry reading? I’m your girl.
What brought this on? Pinterest. Or rather, searching for something I want/need on there. And the million other DIY things that pop up along with my search.
I want a new kitchen table. One that will fit all five of us, and maybe a guest every now and again. That looks all rustic and cozy. I do not want to pay a bajillion dollars for one. There are a million how to posts on there for what I am wanting.
And no matter how detailed that shit gets, I KNOW it would be a deathtrap, that looks like a toddler built it, should I kill myself by trying to make it.
I could pay someone to make it, if I could afford that. Or I could plunk down the money for one already made, which would be pointless, as I’d have to sell the kids to do so, which would make the table way too big. *sigh*
Would I be a bad parent if I made one of the kids eat under the current dinner table like a dog? It could be a fun game though! Whoever doesn’t finish their chores or misbehaves gets to eat out of the Fido bowl! Who am I kidding? They’d all be under there in that case.
Screw it, I’m going to eat in the box fort.