My daughter had a school project to work on tonight, so dragged out the craft supplies. I'm ashamed to admit this, but here goes: I hate arts & crafts. With a passion. As a mother, crafts were my Achilles heel.
Most people cannot understand this, but I get absolutely no joy from taking clay or paint or popsicle sticks and turning them into something else. Looking at a box full of craft supplies does nothing but fill me with a sense of dread. You want me to make something? Do I have to?
My son managed. He was left to do arts & crafts on his own, but preferred building things out of blocks and sticks and Legoes instead. Whew!
But my daughter. My poor, poor daughter. She LOVES arts & crafts, but got stuck with me for a mother.
I tried my best. When she was little, I pawned her off on her grandmother as much as I could. My mother loves crafts and is very artistic. It just skipped a generation, I think. Plus, I diligently took my daughter to the library for Storytime every week because they always did a craft at the end. I hoped it gave her her fix.
Some of the children's shows she watched explained how to make simple crafts, too. I reluctantly sat down and did some with her, but truth be told, I would have rather been doing anything else.
It gets worse.
In my lowest of low-mother moments, I convinced my daughter to do imaginary arts & crafts.
Yes, you read that correctly. I had her pretend to make something.
I am going to pay for years of therapy someday. I just know it. But thankfully, she has matured into a self-sufficient young woman who can get out the craft supply box and make things all by herself now. So, see? She survived.
If she wants to really get even one day, she'll send the grandkids to my house for "craft time." But only time will tell if I test their imaginations as well...
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