I am not my mother’s daughter. The arts & crafts gene skipped my generation. I have no patience for it. It bores me. Surprising, since my mother is an artist and loves to create things.
Chloe adores doing anything artsy. When I came home today, cranky because I had to leave work early to get a crown put on one of my teeth and because my mouth was still numb from the procedure, she assaulted me with “Mommy, let’s weave paper placemats!” Ugh. I think I let out an “oh, brother”-like sigh, and rolled my eyes. A lot.
I’m horrible, I know. I thought of all the other things I could be doing instead of weaving paper placemats. In fact, when I pulled out my computer, thinking I’d be able to multitask, Chloe started to yell at me. “You always pay more attention to your dumb computer than me! Even when we were watching ‘Survivor’ together, you never knew what was happening because you were always on your dumb computer!”
I can’t believe I’m admitting all this on virtual paper. It really makes me look bad. But, I’m working full time now. I come home and there’s stuff I need to do. And I try to pretend I have eight arms instead of two. And I’m not particularly successful at it. I have strengths in other areas: I love to cuddle with my daughters, play board games with Chloe and read books with my girls.
Needless to say, Chloe’s rant (which, if I’m being honest, was almost spot-on) made me feel guilty enough that I closed the laptop (with much regret and a few withdrawal symptoms, like shaking hands) and starting cutting construction paper. My placemat is the yellow and pink one. Chloe finished hers before I did, because I kept messing up the complicated weaving pattern.
By the way, my daughter taught me that a “doubloon” is a pirate coin. I had no idea that a doubloon was a pirate coin. She was extremely proud of her proficiency in pirate lingo. Between woven paper placements and doubloons, I’m feeling pretty inadequate this evening.