Does anyone else try to do the “fun mom” thing?
You know what I’m talking about.
Paint. Crayons. Glitter. Water. Sand. Play-doh.
That sort of stuff?
It always seems like a good idea. You think to yourself:
“Today. Yes! Today, I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna be that mom. I’m gonna craft this shit out of this day.”
And you confidently strut to the craft closet, or bucket, or nook, and pull out all those cool goodies you picked up at the store after being inspired by a bomb caterpillar made out of nothing more than an egg carton and pipe cleaners.
Or, omgosh. You can paint a giant mural. Your little Picaso can put his tiny, sticky, crayon craving hands to good use.
This day is gonna be so fun.
So you roll out a big and I mean BIG sheet of paper for your kid to colour all over. He can’t miss it. The floor will be saved.
And some water to paint with because it’s not messy.
Woo! Super fun.
Then your kid pours the entire bucket of water on his head.
Still colours on your floors.
Eats the crayon.
And leaves you with a giant friggen mess to clean up.
You wonder where the heck it all went wrong.
Was it the water? The crayons? The attempt to be #craftmom?
Somewhere it all went astray.
You vow to never to be #craftmom again.
Then lo and behold, one rainy Tuesday….