my Pinterest feed the other day, I couldn't help but laugh; this is one of the most idyllic - and fraudulent - depictions of that sort of mental confection I've seen. Camelot indeed.
Don't get me wrong - like any
Seized by a case of the Pinterest - you swear that sort of thing could never happen to a nice, Nordstrom-loving girl like you - in the past week I somehow decided the wee CEO and I were going to get artistic. Crafty, even, and not in my usual diabolical sense. There were trips to multiple craft and home improvement stores involved. I was going to foster my child's creativity! Weave a magical, stimulating home environment in which his budding young creative mind could thrive! Exclamation point!
Readers, I am not proud. This is coming from the blogger who used to believe in "homemade" only to the extent I could buy an item lovingly made in someone else's home. Somehow this all feels like the inaugural tumble down the slippery slope to a minivan and mom jeans.
Speaking of broken dreams, here's how our decidedly non-Jackie O salon du toddler art is going so far:
- Crayons eaten by dog, as fed to him by toddler (3)
- Dogs now sick from crayon ingestion (1)
- Marker stains on hardwood floors despite fraudulent "washable" claim (3)
- Crayons stuffed under the couch (6)
- Child prodigy drawings produced, thus assuring early admission to HarvarYaleOxforPrinceton (0)
- Child drawings produced of any sort whatsoever (0)
- Half-completed gallery walls, as designed by yours truly (1) (photos to come, like it or not!) (not)
Um, yeah. So I may shelve the crayons for a few months until Master P shows more of an interest in, you know, drawing with them. I am, however, going to persist in finishing off the few playroom crafts I've started, if only to show that I can - and, truth be told, because I'm secretly enjoying it. EEK.
Beware the Pinterest, kids; as far as I know, there's no cure for it yet. Or is there - what would Jackie O do?