The Christmas Crafting Catastrophe

I don't often craft with the girls. And I'll tell you why. Because it is a very painful experience for me, that's why. Literally. My soul hurts when I craft with them. I've tried, oh I've tried!

Last year I thought scrapbooking with A. would be really fun. I don't paper scrap anymore, but I still had all of my supplies from when I did, and then I bought her this kid's scrapbooking kit and some more really pretty papers from Target. When we got home from Target I took out everything that came with the kit, and gathered the supplies I already owned and spread it all on the dining room table. Then we went into the office and I opened up the photo browser on Photoshop Elements (PSE) so she could pick out a few to scrap. A., being the photographic connoisseur she is, picked out the few most under-exposed photos still remaining on the browser (I have this pack-rat mentality that sort of extends into my photographic organizational skills). I (patiently) tried to talk her into a few of the properly exposed photos elsewhere on the screen but she refused. She wanted those pictures. So, after about two minutes of failed negotiation, I sucked it up and printed them out. My heart began to ache as I grabbed them from the printer and handed them to her.

We got settled at the dining table and I handed her scissors (the pinking shears that make a scalloped type edge) and let her cut away. You know what she did? She cut her terribly under-exposed photo into triangular pieces! Itty bitty triangular pieces. So I gently (really) explained to her that she was just supposed to cut it a little bit and paste it on the paper. She knew that already (of course she did) but just wanted to cut her picture into shreds. Whatever. I gave her another picture, which she immediately pastes onto the album page. I ask her if she wants to make it pretty. Like, with the pretty paper I paid $5 for at Target. No. No, she doesn't. She flips to another page, then cuts up a pretty piece of paper (yay! Progress), puts down a few stickers and then moves to yet another page. I'm watching and watching. My heart hurting a little more with each passing second. She's wasting her album! The pictures she is putting down aren't even discernable figures, and the only thing she's doing with anything is cutting them into shreds or pasting them down whole and laying stickers on top of them! I tried to, uh, guide her (by telling her how it's supposed to be done). She wasn't having any of it. Until I couldn't take it anymore. I closed up shop. "That's enough for today," I told her as I started putting things back into the container. Naturally, she was upset. She hadn't gotten a chance to fill all the blank pages with stickers and glue yet! But I- I was done. I learned my lesson right then. I. Can. Not. Craft. With. My. Kids. They do things all wrong. This- is essential information.

Ok. So, the kids did some really cute crafts at the Christmas party yesterday. One of the crafts they made was a candy cane using red and white beads and pipe cleaners. The whole craft at the Christmas party only took a few minutes and seemed painless enough. They each made a candy cane, and I thought, how cute would it be for them to make several and decorate the tree with them! I blame this departure from reality on the fact that I was sick.

Today, I took them with me to Michael's to buy beads and pipe cleaners so that we could make more of those cute little candy canes for our Christmas tree. We got the goods, went home. Dh was working on painting the kitchen so this was the perfect time to keep them busy with a craft. They wouldn't be underfoot and trying to talk him into letting them help and they wouldn't be driving me bonkers asking me why they can't help daddy. I was going to keep them busy and make cute, colorful (red and white is sooooo boring) candy cane decorations.

It started out pleasant enough. I opened the bucket of beads and got the pipe cleaners ready (bent them in half and folded up one end) for them to string. They have at the beads and start doing their thing. I grabbed a pipe cleaner for myself and began working on my own goodies. We're happily sitting, criss-cross-apple- sauce on the floor sorting through beads when I had a BRILLIANT idea. Wouldn't it be great if we had a way to really personalize the candy canes, so we knew who made which ones? Why, yes. Yes it would! Alphabet beads. I concluded that we needed alphabet beads. Right then. And it couldn't wait, even though the whole trip was going to take me another hour (because I'm impulsive like that).

The girls and I loaded back into the car and headed back to Michael's (which was a MADHOUSE by the way. Both times). We went in, got the beads (not made in China, I might add), got out, went home. A. opened up the (also) colorful, square alphabet beads. I wanted round ones, but they didn't have them at Michael's so I thought I'd give the square ones a try. Turned out quite nicely anyways.

Ok, so A. tore open the pack, and we started picking out letters to spell their names on the candy canes. All is well for about five minutes. After A. finishes her first personalized candy cane, I notice she's stringing random letter beads together on another pipe cleaner. R, Q, Y, N, Z- I don't remember exactly which ones. I just know they were random letters, and right then and there, that feeling I had when A. picked out those photos a year ago returned.

(condensed version)

Me: You can't just string random letters together. They have to spell a word.

A.: But I want letters.

Me: you can have letters, they just have to spell a word. Pig, cow, dog, Santa- I don't care. Just spell a word!

So she says with a great big grin, "how about pig? I like pigs."

Disbelief swarms my mind.

Me: you can't spell "pig". That doesn't have anything to do with Christmas.

Dh chimes in from the kitchen, "you did tell her that she just had to spell a word, any word."

Thanks, babe. I realize, I am being completely contradictory. I didn't really think she'd want to spell pig! I had to regroup.

Me: Well, you can't spell pig. How about ho ho ho, or Santa or something like that. Spell something else.

It was the best I could do under pressure, alright.

Thankfully, A. was. sufficiently distracted, and I had to turn my attention to S. and pull strings of random letters off of her pipe cleaner, as well. I'm a kill-joy, I know. And I don't care. They had to do this my way right! (cue in smart-ass hubby. Again: "you can only have fun my way, dammit"!)

Control was regained, and crafting went merrily along the way. But it didn't last.

It never lasts. It. Never. Lasts.

A. is a really sweet kid. She really, truly is. She LOVES people, and when she makes new friends she becomes very, very attached. So she began making candy canes for several of her friend's. One of whom she's only played with once. They met at the mall playground, and they hit it off right away. Within an hour they were holding hands as they flitted from foamy climbing toy to foamy climbing toy. Turns out, his mom and I also hit it off! We exchanged numbers and I kept meaning to call, but it just kept getting away from me. For two months. But A. never lets me forget it. And so, I promise, I will call her soon. I have to now. A. made an ornament for her son. She was a Christmas-crafting-candy-cane-personalizing machine. She started rooting through the alpha beads to make an ornament for another friend when I realized that they had not made canes for their grandparents. I recalled there was a moment (a moment) in which I tried but it didn't go over well. I'm not sure they were even paying attention. All I know is that it didn't get done. So I grabbed a few of the canes I had already made and took them apart. I shoved a pipe cleaner at A.. "Here" I told her, and began placing the appropriate letter beads in front of her. "You need to make one for lola and g'pa and granny."

It was then that I noticed we were out of the necessary letters.

SON OF A BITCH!

Maybe I should have let A. use up random letters for the first ones we did. Because then maybe we would have had more of the relevant letters. Or maybe not. But we'll never know now, will we?

So anyways, SON OF A BITCH!

We're out of A, L's, S and F's. Fabulous. Cuz they're the exact letters we need!

I had to dissemble one of the canes meant for a friend. She had put her friend's name (which coincidentally comprised of A's, and S's) along with her name on it (I only took A.'s name off. I left her friend's.). It was just enough for the girls to squeeze out a set for the grandparents, and crafting moved along.

Throughout this, S. got restless (we had used all the pipe cleaners and I was tired of taking apart mine. They were really pretty). She shoved her grubby hands into the bucket of beads and began tossing them out. Then when I asked her to help clean up, she sat on the beads. At the same time I was arguing with A. about those fucking letters!

And yet again, dh, ever the observant one remarks, "isn't this supposed to be fun?"

Me: (scooping up beads from under S.'s ass) It was fun! TWO FUCKING HOURS AGO!

Yes, my friends. We had been at it for over three hours. Who knew they had such stamina?!!!!!

Finally, it was time to eat, then time for bed. Which meant TIME FOR ME!

So, we cleaned up the beads and called it a night.

You'd think I'd learn my lesson from this right? But you know what I'm left thinking at the end of all this?

We should buy more beads and invite friends over to make more candy canes!

Maybe I'll sleep it off. Like a bad hang over.

Things may look very, very different in the morning.