Glitter Me This, Glitter Me That

I am writing this post from my couch while watching the Super Bowl. Tie score with 57 seconds to go. By the time I finish posting, the game should be over. My husband will either be jumping off of the couches or crawling behind them and curling into the fetal position. For my sanity, please let it be the former.

Onto the point of this post! My son had a fever today, so we had a lazy day at home doing a lot of nothing. So what else to do than get a head start on our Valentines for school? So I pull out all of the supplies, including lots of glitter. Now, I’m sure a lot of you have similar feelings to me on this one. I’m an artsy gal (duh, I doodle), so I love a good craft. I should own stock in Michael’s. But I am also a neat freak. I will (reluctantly and abashedly) admit that I struggle daily with reconciling my neatness with my desire to have my kids express themselves artistically. So imagine my inner demons when I handed over the Mod Podge and glitter and said “do whatever you want!” There was glitter in our hair, under our fingernails, glued to the table, and there is still glitter on the tile floor, which I am sure to be picking up one speck at a time until 2018.

Parenting is a daily challenge on so many levels. Some challenges are big, and some are small. But even the small challenges are big, if you think of them as an aggregate and on a macro level (that’s my background in economics talking). So when my kids make an absolute mess in the name of art, I stifle my inner neat freak, take a deep breath, close my eyes, and remind myself that this moment isn’t about me. Then I put them to bed and run the Roomba. I love you, Roomba.

P.S. GO PATRIOTS! Never give up, people. What a lesson on our way into Monday.

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