Craftily Creative

It all began relatively well. Hubby was heading off to work at just the right time and was able to do the school drop off along the way.

Nice.

Chippie remained home with me, as he wasn’t required at his educational facility till later in the morning, but had otherwise occupied himself with taking all the stuff that was spread over every possible floor space and spreading it even further. He does have a talent.

I, on the other hand, was ploughing through my list. Having creating some new products for Real Mums, I was attempting to add them to the Blog, so I could share them with the world.

He caught site of the colours, stamped my desk, face and hand with my smiley stamp, using all the ink, then demanded I give him “yellow and orange and red”.

“Yellow and orange and red what?” I ask.

“I. Want. Yellow. And orange. And RED!” he proceeds to yell at me.

“You wanna draw?”

“NO, I SAID I want yellow and orange and RED!”

“Paper?” I ask. “Do you want to paint? Or do you want yellow and orange and red paper?”

“I want yellow and orange and RED!” he yells. “Yes.”

“Paper?”

“No.” he replies. “Yes!”

I get the appropriately coloured papers. Then spend another 45 minutes sorting through the paints, many of which expired sometime in the 1800s and I had to throw out. He had white and green left. He was happy for a moment.

Then, he located the Craft Box; a gift from someone’s third birthday many, many years ago and still remains relatively untouched. Except for the Testicle Monster and Eye Ball a few months back.

He handed me a bunch of sticks and requested I make a “bird nest”.

He requested and requested until I was snapped out of my stunned, totally confronted, speechless state and admitted “I’m not sure I can actually make a bird’s nest out of these.”

“No, Mummy,” he says, looking at me intently.

He holds his hands up, brings his fingers and thumb together as though signing ‘blah blah blah’ and intones “Just close your eyes and sink. Then you will see how you can make it.”

Good advice. I was sinking well. I suspect, however, me meant ‘think’.

So I did sink and sink and basically came to the conclusion that I was fucked and there was no way I was ever going to come close to achieving a bird’s nest with this stuff.

So I did sink and sink some more and sought – thought – ‘pipe cleaners’! and I made a bird’s nest!

No, I must add, without much criticism and condemnation and demands for certain colours to be used in certain places and complaints about the dubious structure of the creation.

I must also give myself credit for being creative.

Not for actually making a substandard bird’s nest, but for my ability to calmly talk the four-year-old around to my way of thinking without either of us dissolving into a tantrum.

It was tear free on all counts.

And he was satisfied with his nest.

I sink sometimes I just don’t give myself enough credit for my abilities 🙂

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