Obsession - Easter Garland/Control Issues

When it comes to home décor, I consider myself somewhat of a minimalist. I hate clutter and have very few tchotchkes around my house.

But since I’ve had kids, I feel like I’ve been shamed into having more shit. For every single holiday there must be loads of crap around the house representative of the season. The quantity of decorations has grown each year and I fear that some day my house could look like a scene out of Hoarders. Except instead of trash, there would be Halloween vomit in every spare corner and crevice.

It goes against my very nature. I actually find joy in throwing stuff away. A good purge seems like the ideal solution to everything, no?

But I comply with the (Orange County) conventions of motherhood that dictate that we must be festive – at least in appearance – every GD moment of GD every day. Sigh.

So this year I realized I’m sorely lacking in Easter shit. (How very Catholic that last sentence sounds. So going to hell.) So I endeavored to look up a craft that could be thrown together in 30 minutes with stuff I already had around the house. I have not the fortitude nor the stomach to brave Michaels.

So I found this cute idea and whipped that shit out. Cut out some egg shapes from pretty cardstock and string ‘em on some ribbon. Voila!

One problem. Maya. She wanted to do it with me.

Oooooookay.

Is it not bad enough that I’m doing it but now I have to be patient times two? Patient with the craft and patient with the child. Ok, I can do this. I can be one of those nice, rosy mothers who sit with their child and enjoy crafting together. I think I threw up in my mouth a little. Shoot me if you ever find me painting at Color Me Mine. It means I’ve finally lost my mind.

Not that there’s anything wrong with painting or crafting. Just the opposite. I envy these people and want to be them actually. But I am a control freak. And like I’ve mentioned a million times, I don’t like doing anything I can’t do well. I cannot cut, paint, glue, sew…nada.

So, if you see me at Color Me Mine, I mean it. Put me out of my misery.

Anyways, back to the special Hallmark moment with Maya. She’s got her eggs and I’ve got mine. She’s cutting and pasting and drawing and it’s all very darling and precious. And I’m ok with everything so far. Until she wants to merge our projects.

“Mommy?” she asks as I’m stringing my carefully selected and cut eggs onto my string. “When are you going to put my eggs onto your string?”

Say what now?

“Um…This is my project, my little darling,” I tell her delicately. “Your eggs are for your garland. We’ll make you a special one and hang it in a place of honor. Right here in the kitchen.”

My daughter has never fallen for bullshit. But it was worth a shot.

“And where is yours going?” she asks with suspicion.

“Oh, where? I don’t know. Probably on the wall above the mantel.” I’m in trouble.

“But I made these eggs special to go on yours! We were doing this together!” The whining. No, not the whining.

“Oh, but yours belong on your own special, unique garland in the kitchen where we can see it all the time because we spend the most time here. Wouldn’t that be better?” I’m laying it on so thick and, for a split second, I think she may see the light.

She ponders this quietly and I go back to work. Then, I look back over at her and see her mouth is turned down in a little pout. Oh no.

“Maya? Is everything ok?”

She looks up at me, her beautiful brown eyes filled with tears.

Here is the finished project.

Can you spot the piece de resistance?

Martha Stewart-worthy, it is not. But every time I pass it, I cringe a little less. That’s progress, is it not?

And my girl child is happy. Very very happy. Happy Easter one and all!

(Do you think this was enough for Jesus to forgive the above GD references? I do too.)