I hate crafts. This is a problem given that my daughter is her own craft production factory. Thanks to her, we are first rate recyclers: paper, toilet paper rolls, and cereal boxes rotate from the craft table to the recycling bin with amazing fluidity. It might be cute if you’re a scrapbook person; if you’re not, it’s a nightmare.
Below, then, are 5 reasons I hate crafts.
Reason 1: Crafts Are Messy
Glitter was clearly invented by a child-free man or by a woman with a cleaning lady. I won’t even discuss the messiness of paint or Play-doh (though I will add that I know why Homer Simpson uses “Doh!” as profanity). And what is it with tiny hands that mean they must cut tiny pieces? When my son was three, one of his favourite tasks was taking a piece of construction paper, cutting it into microscopic pieces, and then using the hand-held vacuum to clean up a tenth of the mess.
Reason 2: My Finger Dexterity Sucks
I grew up in the 1980s, when small town fashion dictated that it was okay to wear several gold chains, all of which were as thick as a strand of baby hair. On my dresser every night, they’d weave into masses of knots, and I could not undo the mess. My father, a big man with bigger farm hands, could untangle them. It was then I realized I could never be a surgeon. Or Martha Stewart. Or a mom who’s good at crafts. For me, threading a needle is a whole morning’s work. Crafts? I know better. If you’re familiar with the kids’ show Mr. Dressup, I have the finger dexterity of Casey.
Check out the hands on Casey (the puppet in the middle)
Why is it that kids rarely attempt crafts that they can complete independently? For her fifth birthday, Vivian received a dream catcher kit. It required weaving a net, threading beads, gluing feathers, and more weaving. More recently, over Spring Breakdown, we went to a bookstore for activity time (evidently reading is not enough anymore). There had been a misprint in the newspaper. I thought I was taking my kids to an Olivia tea party, but instead I (and about twenty other irate parents) brought my kids to bracelet making, ages 8 and up. I spent 45 minutes swearing my way through one bracelet. The other one is still undone.
The Before Picture: you expect a 5yo (or me) to do a zipper weave?
The After Picture: "after" sweat and swearing
I received more than a few rug hooks for Christmas presents in my childhood. I never finished one. I think I got up to the beak of a brown owl one, but no farther. And how many two inch pieces of wool did my mom end up vacuuming?
Reason 5: Memories of Cheating at Home Economics
I was one of those good students: I did my homework, applied what I learned, and didn’t cheat. Except in Grade 7 Home Ec. My mom watched me knit one slipper (painfully) that would have fit Shaquille O’Neal; satisfied that I knew the skill (barely), she knit the second one for me. I still remember the comment my teacher gave me: “You showed great improvement.” Indeed.
So, my dear children, I apologize for not doing crafts with you. Add it to the list of items to discuss with your therapist.
No comments:
Post a Comment