I don’t think I’ve ever seen my friends as shocked as the day that I had a playdate and had my scrapbooking materials spread out over the dining room table. “What?!?!”, my friends exclaimed. Aren’t you the girl that runs away at the sight of a glue stick or mention of crafts. Yes I am. But on occasion, I scrap book. Begrudgingly.
It all started with my wedding album, because I didn’t feel like paying the $750 for the professional album and I thought it would mean more if I did it myself. I’ve now got three scrapbooks under my belt (my wedding album, plus two trips), and have been the Queen of Proscrastination with what is to be the fourth. The one strewn about on my dining room table. The one for the first year of my son’s life. He’s now two.
I am determined to complete this task. Yes, it’s a task. The joy has gone, but it must be completed. I’m through December of ’08…. only six more months to go, and then we’ll be doing things the old-fashioned way…. photobooks ordered from shutterfly.com.
I was telling my mom about my project, and she reminded me that when my sister and I were babies, she once made Christmas dough ornaments from scratch. We cherished them for the decades that they held up, and it warmed my heart to know that my mom, who I proudly inherit my arts and crafts phobia from, took one for the team in order to make home-made goodies for her family. I don’t think she’s held a paint brush since.
So, Graham, in the tradition of Barnes family moms, this glue stick’s for you. You won’t see one in my hands again. Unless you have a sibling. And then, according to a dear friend of mine, if you do it for the first, you have to do it for the second. Darn her.
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