I was completely and utterly demoralized tonight. I don't just love crafts, and I haven't drawn or painted in years. But I've been known to pump out a bit of creativity from time to time. I know my way around paper and scissors.
Or so I thought.
Allow me to lament....
We stowed away all the Christmas decorations this weekend, and I've been yearning for something to replace them. Our house still has some very bare spaces. My ingeniously cheap idea was to show the kids how to make paper snowflakes and then let them bring a whimsical nor'easter into our dining room. Don't we all have such fond memories of the first, magical time we made our very own snowflake? They are always so beautiful. I couldn't wait to introduce my kids to this Winter wonder.
Turns out I can't make paper snowflakes. The old gal has lost her touch.
I sat down with my "students." All had scissors, all had paper. I folded my paper, fold, fold, fold. Then I cut, snip, snip, snip. And when I unfolded what I thought would wow us all, I held something I can't even properly name. It was the most pathetic disappointment.
The kids and I had a great time laughing at my repeated failures--yes, I kept trying. They did as well, but were simply mimicking my motions, so they didn't have a prayer. We made a glorious mess, though not the adorable one I had in mind--and then they bailed after about ten minutes.
After the kids went to bed you better believe I was all over the internet looking up how-tos. Can you believe I had to look up how to make paper snowflakes? But I cannot accept defeat, so I persisted and have been honing my skills all night. It's pretty silly the things I get so determined to do.
Turns out the Mama-craft was much easier. I wanted to make a "Winter" wreath to hang above the mantel where we had our Christmas wreath. It really was so easy. And I had a redeeming moment. I glued the button flowers on a second time, and was wondering who in the world would come over to apply pressure with both hands until the craft glue dried. Obviously I realized the preposterous nature of this thought along with the preposterous idea that I'd spend my precious alone time holding a wreath to the table. Then the lightbulb came on--finally. I grabbed my big ol' bag of rice and I was all set.
Assuming I didn't mistakenly use conditioner for glue, the wreath should look like this in the morning:
And I did manage to make a few flakes. You know, to go along with the theme of the night.
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