in defense of mess and diy

I was married in 2009, before Pinterest was a thing.

I remember falling in love with pocket invitations and yet how put off I was by having to stuff the pockets and seal the invitations myself. At that time, anything that could even remotely be classified as DIY -- even something as minimal as putting cards into the proper pockets of an invitation -- wasn't my cup of tea. No, not even a little bit. Our wedding favors were the soundtrack to our love story, songs meticulously chosen and burned to CD's and labeled with labels that I hired someone to design and stick on for me because craftphobia. I had it. More than a phobia, a complete lack of interest in doing anything myself.

Eventually, Pinterest became a thing. I shirked it for as long as I could. By the time Ethan's first birthday came around, I found the usefulness of Pinterest. It gave me all of these great ideas for his party but I didn't possess the patience or skill to see them come to fruition on my own. Glue? Washi tape? Hammering? Painting? Are you crazy? I asked my craftier, more creative friends to help me. After all, they knew how to do things themselves. They did things they saw on Pinterest for fun while I marveled in their successes. I was good for placing calls to order the food and supplies and show friends pictures of how I imagined things. I mean, I had no idea how to take an idea or pin and turn it into reality. Absolutely none whatsoever.

I didn't make any of these things. Except the really cute kid -- I made him. Bonus points.

After Ethan's first birthday party, which required me to get my hands dirty in the crafting world as I helped my more creative friends, I realized it wasn't so bad. Not at all. Hot gluing, spray painting and adding words like "jute twine" into my vocabulary was actually kind of...fun. At around the same time, Ethan's artistic interest began to develop. He couldn't walk yet, but the kid was content to sit and fingerpaint or color for long stretches of time. It was then that I began to fully immerse myself in child led learning, in art for children and in sensory activities.

One thing led to another and before long, I was hopelessly addicted to Pinterest and creating things both for and with Ethan.

By the time his second birthday party rolled around, I had mastered the art of spray paint and epoxy and there was no DIY project too intimidating for me to tackle. While I undoubtedly drove my husband nuts with the clutter of paper and supplies and glue and glitter that coated our living room on a regular basis, I discovered something: making things was relaxing. And, well, fun. Perhaps this is just another example at how our interests shift the older we get. I blinked and then sitting at the dining room table that rarely sees any dining and making things sort of trumped anything I used to show an interest in.

I go a little crazy over Ethan's birthday parties, I will admit. I basically plan for his parties year 'round, throwing things into time to get serious mode about five months before the actual big day. I let myself get a little worked up and stressed out because I'm me and that's what I do, but I love it. I love every second of it. I love my quiet nights pushing off bedtime in favor of making truffula trees out of paper towel rolls. I love spending whatever short glimmer of free time I have adding details to something that will likely be overlooked the day of the party. It's therapeutic. That's the strangest part to me, someone who couldn't run away fast enough from DIY products: it's therapeutic.

And, seeing how often my three year old begs to make art or do a project or says "let's look on Pinterest for something fun to make, mommy" -- I think he agrees.

There's a lot of snark that coats social media when it comes to "Pinterest moms." There are insults hurled, promises that Pinterest moms aren't as "perfect" as they think they are. There's a lot of hatred, a lot of claims that those who use Pinterest to make things are simultaneously ruining the childhood and lives of all around them. To me, it's not about perfection (what's that?). It's not about outdoing and showing off and destroying the fun from children's lives. On the contrary, Pinterest has given me quite a gift. As someone who wasn't even 1% artsy or crafty or creative prior to having children, I quite enjoy learning the ropes with Ethan. I like making things for him. I like making things with him. I like the joy on his face when he finishes a project or the concentration on his face as he diligently works on a painting or art project. I like seeing the huge strides in his development and learning at the hands of an art project or sensory activity. The truth is, without Pinterest, I wouldn't have this outlet. We wouldn't have this outlet. My house wouldn't be covered in glitter (not that my husband would complain about this one) and I wouldn't have paint on the walls or Mod Podge adhered to the table or crayons melted in the backseat of my car, but our lives wouldn't be quite as bright.

I like to make things. We like to make things. My child loves to make things and I love to watch him make things, help him make things and provide him with the tools in which he needs for the kind of enrichment I think necessary for a healthy, well-rounded childhood. And, really, I am grateful for the gift of unwinding and mind-occupying and relaxation that late night craft sessions give me, that "Pinterest party" planning gives me.

And I'm pretty sure that when it comes to childhood, Ethan is having a great time. Above all else, this is the one thing that gives my heart peace. He is having a great time.

puke party.

My husband rarely gets a day off of work. Heck, he rarely gets the night off of work, seeing as how most nights he has more work to do once he gets home. We were all in desperate need for some family time and so he put in a request for some vacation days. We all had some big plans for those days but, naturally, that would be too easy. I spent Thursday in the emergency room after horrible stomach pain and endless puking and nausea. They thought it might be gallblader related so I got to experience a CT Scan and a good ol' ultrasound (which is basically like emotional warfare after having a baby pass in utero). Oh, and lots of drugs. Lots and lots of drugs. It ended up just being a terrible stomach bug, although I would like to eliminate the word "just" from that sentence in fear it might trivialize the sheer horror of the whole thing.

Anyway, I've been stuck in bed since. Which might sound ideal in all of those self-deprecating jokes about exhaustion and moms not having any alone time -- but in actuality, it's pretty torturous. It's the last way that I wanted to spend my husband's vacation days and I'm the last person who is just fine with sitting in bed looking for ways to pass the time. I'm basically sitting here gnawing on Saltines and thinking of all of the things I should be doing and all of the laundry that is inevitably piling up and all of the things my husband is doing wrong because if it's not exactly like how I do it, it's wrong. (I'm working on that last one.)

With my life at it's current state, right now, as it is, I don't welcome any downtime. Downtime equals time to think. I don't need any time to think right now. There's a greater chance I'll make it through 2015 with at least 25% of my sanity in tact if only I'm denied the time to think.

Oh, and did I mention that as my sweet, sweet husband and child were leaving the grocery store with Saltines and Gatorade for me in tow, they were rearended by some schmuck who didn't quite understand the point of a stop sign (and, like, how did he not realize what precious cargo was in that car he rammed into?! That's my baby boy in that car, you putz!). Because that happened, and with a world war raging in my stomach, I got to join in the deliberation over cars and insurance and car seats and rental cars via text message because neither Ethan nor my husband are allowed anywhere remotely near me due to my likely irrational but still totally justified fear that one of them will catch this bug, too.

I really don't "do" sick very well. I don't do "downtime" very well. I don't do "just relax" very well because somehow I was born without the ability to know how to truly relax. So, if you need me, I'll be here, sitting in bed prepping Ethan's birthday party decorations for his party three months from now.

Oh. By the way. I started writing this post at two o'clock. I didn't finish because (sigh) Ethan puked.

the ellipses.

Like most emo kids of my generation, I quickly developed a love for Garden State in a way that felt more like religion. The film felt biblical in a sense, something for me to quote and worship. Something to lift me up out of my anxiety and sadness and inevitable adolescent breakdown caused by life-altering events like moving out of your parents home, going away to college. Events that, despite being funded wholly by your parents, mimicked a grown-up life that you fought to recognize when you looked in the mirror. Anyway, Garden State was my gospel that year. Over a decade later, I still think of it from time to time.

"You know that point in your life when you realize the house you grew up in isn't really your home anymore? All of a sudden even though you have some place where you put your shit, that idea of home is gone."

I'm in a season of life that is analytical at best. I worry a lot, I wonder a lot. I think things that other people write off as unnecessary what if's or worst case scenarios but, to me, they're valid. Right now, they're valid.

There's the first time you realize that your parents are human, that they're flawed. That they're not bulletproof and neither are you and sometimes you know better, or different, or more. You realize they don't have all of the answers and, more than that, sometimes they produce more questions instead.

I'm in a place where I question everything because I have to. Because if I don't, who will? Because I'm an adult, and a parent, and responsible for taking the lead in a series of events that make me want to pull the covers over my head and cry while listening to Bright Eyes. Old school Bright Eyes. Like Fever and Mirrors era Bright Eyes.

I try to limit my worry and questions, trying to find the perfect time slots to stick them. Having Ethan makes it easier, a little bit. Something about the resilience of children and the utter joy they find in everything feels a little contagious. Having Ethan to let me play childhood with him, to let me have a second go-round of youth, it helps. At least until I spin my worry a little bit, until I let it convince me that I'm failing him somehow. In some way.

I am an adult now. I am a wife, a mother. I am the maker of lunches and folder of laundry and keeper of the glitter-coated house we call home. I am the wearer of yoga pants and the giver of what I hope is the most incredible childhood ever. And then sometimes I am no more than a scared seventeen year old girl with three-inch-thick eyeliner who is nothing more than a walking vessel of Garden State quotes and fear. Fear that I know is valid.

"Fuck, this hurts so much."
"I know it hurts. That's life. If nothing else, It's life. It's real, and sometimes it fuckin' hurts, but it's sort of all we have."

tot school - seeds, flowers & plants - age 3 1/2

This past week, we learned all about seeds, plants and flowers in tot school. On many occasions, Ethan and I have tried to grow plants or flowers. After six months and no sprouts, I get the clue. Ethan, on the other hand, sticks with optimism. Above his toy kitchen in front of our window sit a few pots -- none of which are actually actively growing anything -- and each day he checks to see if today is the day they start sprouting. I may have a black thumb but figured maybe I could learn a thing or two with Ethan. He's been increasingly interested in plants -- how seeds grow into something so big, how grass drinks -- that it seemed like a fitting week to transition to after weather week last week.

GARDENING SENSORY BIN

I filled a tub with some potting soil, some cheap dollar store seed packets, a little shovel, some gardening gloves, fake flowers and some dollar store pots. Ethan got to pretend to garden, pot some plants and "grow" some seeds into beautiful flowers. He had a lot of fun with this tray often throughout the week and could sit and play with it for hours! By the end of the week, he placed some puts full of artificial flowers near the windows and told me they're our new tot school garden plants.

GROWING A CARROT TOP

Learning about plants gave us lots of fun opportunities to do some cool experiments. This one I was totally skeptical about, so it was interesting to see it truly worked! We cut the tops off some carrots and Ethan got to soak some cottonballs with water. One of our carrot tops didn't make it, but the other continued to grow tall, bright and green by the end of the week! We'll probably keep this one going just to see how big it will grow.

LIMA BEAN GREENHOUSE

I'm pretty sure everyone remembers growing lima beans at some point in their school career. This is the second time we had done this -- the first time being when Ethan was about a year old and it didn't really pan out. Good thing he didn't remember. For this one, Ethan decorated a little greenhouse. He kept the design simple, just writing his name on the top. He dampened the cottonballs and added them to the ziplock bag with the lima beans. We attached the ziplock bag to the greenhouse and taped it to the window. So far no sprouts, but we're not giving up hope yet.

COLORING CELERY

We had been talking about how roots are much like straws, and they drink up the water when the plants are thirsty. This was the perfect activity to show Ethan exactly how that worked. We added food coloring to the different jars of water and let the celery drink it up.

ORDER CARDS

I printed both sets of these cards from Homeschool Creations. Ethan got to put them in order as we learned about how a seed sprouts and the different parts of a flower. He really enjoyed doing this tray, especially seeing how the seeds sprout.

SEED SORTING

I had gotten a bunch of cheap seed packets and let Ethan sort them into different groups. At first he sorted them into different piles and then he started sorting them in different ways (by color, size, shape). I included some tweezers for fine motor practice as well, which he loved using.

CIRCLE THE CORRECT LETTER

For this one, I made some printables with different plant related words and Ethan got to circle the letter each word started with. He really enjoyed this one!

LIMA BEAN PATTERN RECOGNITION

I had glued some lima beans to a piece of paper and Ethan got to recreate the patterns of the beans. He had fun with this one, sometime creating the pattern under, sometimes over, sometimes on top of -- and sometimes adding to the pattern in his own way.

SEED PACKETS

This was Ethan's favorite activity of the week! I glued some different seeds onto paper and made little seed "packets." Ethan got to practice his letter writing by writing the names of each fruit or vegetable underneath where I had written it. He also got to draw a picture of each fruit or vegetable too. His favorite part about this tray was being able to see what fruits and vegetables each tiny little seed turned out to be!

NUMBER WRITING PRACTICE

We do a lot of letter and word writing, but I wanted to start introducing number writing, too. Ethan had other plans -- this tray got no use this week!

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