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The Super Crap Craft Mum and School

I’m just not a crafty-type mum.

In fact I am a completely remedial, back of the bus, forever on the friendship chair type parent when it comes to craft.

I envy those mums who can do crafty things like paint masterpieces with their kids, make little hair bow-things, decorate their kids’ rooms with lovely handcrafted thingys and do DIY design projects with a freaking toilet roll.

Smug Bastards.

Over the last 9 years I’ve mangled menial craft jobs with my kids. Even things like;

Colouring in

Randomly cutting out images and stick them to bits of blank paper

Colouring in people’s eyes in photos (apparently I’m bringing up sociopaths)

Stuck leaves, sand, bugs and twigs on cardboard (don’t ask why)

Tissue paper stuffy stuff

Basic Mr Maker craft

It’s not that I don’t try and do it – I do – and the M’s even love me for my ineptitude. The sad truth is that I’m just Super Crap Craft Mum.

Top of the long list in the “Fiona’s Super Crap Craft Mum Club” is CONTACT. That horrible stuff is my own personal enemy of the state. It’s insanely annoying that 6.5 weeks after the nightmare of Christmas wrapping that my kids are bringing home freaking exercise books to be ‘contacted’.

Ho freaking Ho Ho Ho for the 2017 school year.

If I was Malcolm Turnbull, I’d ban that crap from ever entering the country. I’d get all those secret squirrel Ninja Border Patrol people scanning containers and burning every single roll of contact they come into ummmm, ‘contact’ with.

This morning’s effort was worse than last year and not just because I made the Husband do it last year. I had the first 6 books with a combination of clear and ‘free choice’ contact to do. Coffee was done, scissors in hand and that sticky flycatching evil paper was everywhere.

My five year old M3 had to come and help me separate the contact from the paper, M2 just wanted to play with the off cuts, and M1 just sat there giving helpful hints.

I offered to leave the contact until the husband came home tonight but all three piped up, “No mum, you’re doing a great job”. I now know what it’s like to be a child – you know you’ve done a crap job but your parents look at you with complete adoration and lie with an “Oh my goodness, that’s amazing!” Bless ’em.

I’ve even wrapped presents for kids’ birthday parties and then said my youngest had wrapped it just to save myself embarrassment. I’m far too old to be publicly designated to the back of the craft bus.

So…I managed 5 out of the 6 books, and each of them was a spectacular train wreck. There’s so many wrinkles and bubbles they look like a Shar Pei dog got it’s face caught on the back.

The M’s gave me an adoring ‘well done’ kiss and packed their books for school.

They’ll make phenomenal parents one day – at least when they eventually leave the convent/monastery and find suitable mother-approved partners

I have many amazing gifts, but clearly crafting is just not one of them….and that’s okay.

Love

Super Crap Craft Mum x

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