Thursday, January 12, 2017

Sometimes I don't think ahead.

When my oldest child was age 4 1/2, she got her first loose tooth. And I got this Pinteresty idea to make a tooth fairy pillow. Because 1, I kind of remember having something like that when I was a kid,  2, it seemed easier than trying to dig teeth out from under the pillow of a sleeping child, and 3, I want my kids' childhoods to be sparkly and magical.

Or at least, I WANTED my kids' childhoods to be sparkly and magical. Till I realized that I have like, a crap ton of kids, and when you have a crap ton of kids, you have to keep doing this stuff over and over and over again. And that is the worst.

So yes. To me, 4 is a lot of kids. Maybe you're like, "well I have 7 kids, and 4 sounds like a Carribean vacation to me", to you I say, congratulations, you are a better human, and I do not understand your life. To me, 4 is a lot of kids. And when you add it up in different ways, 4 wardrobes, 4 people to buy Christmas presents for, 4 extra tickets to any place that requires tickets, or 4 sparkly magical childhood inducing craft projects, I think 4 should sound like a lot to you too.

When my eldest was 4, I made her a tooth pillow. I stitched it by hand with love and humility because I like, barely have the slightest clue what I am doing, but she loved it, and quickly lost 27 teeth so she could use it over and over again.

A week or two ago my 3rd oldest child, (second born, oldest boy) came into my room with a finger in his mouth. His tooth felt weird, he said. And sure enough, it was loose. He was surprised, I was surprised, and then like, 15 seconds later he rallied and asked me when I was going to make him his tooth pillow. Because kids do NOT forget stuff you did for their siblings. Because kids do NOT let you off the hook. EVER. Because FAIR.

So I got the stuff I would need to make the pillow and then like.... left it there. I mean, I've got other things to do, man, what do you want from me? And then yadda yadda yadda, his tooth felt out and I had basically barely started. Because I am a garbage mom and if I had anything done on time, it just wouldn't seem right at all.
Child with his homeless, pillowless, mouthless tooth.
So after the tooth was out, I figured it was time to complete the maternal responsibility I had set for myself years before. I made the friggin pillow. And can I say? While I was doing it, I struggled every minute. When I was 16, I had to take a personality test. In the end, it said that "this person is very likely to start lots of activities or projects, and then not finish them". At the time, I thought back to my bedroom closet, filled with the circus pack I had half colored as a child, 4 or 5 scrapbooks I had started, a number of sewing projects I had attempted and then thrown aside "for later", and the seven trillion books, poems, stories, and pictures I thought I would create but quickly walked away from.

Today at age 33, I have a different, but really not that different list. Most of my unfinished projects now are written things or crocheted things, but I'm apt to have many more. Depending on what I decide to try. And it's not just that I'm distractible. I know that you're thinking that I'm all SQUIRREL! but that's not the case at all. I can focus, but the farther into a thing I get, the more pressure I feel about it. It's like the project or assignment is a plunger I need to squeeze down a tube, but the closer I get to the bottom, the more it pushes back. And the pressure has actual freaking words. You can't do this. This is going to look horrible. This is going to sound stupid. You'll probably finish it, then the whole thing will fall apart. You can't stitch a K. Well you DEFINITELY can't stitch an A. HA. 2 O's coming up. You are COMPLETELY done for. You'll never make it. You're never finish. This is the worst.

I can tell you that I am learning to fight back. I'm learning to finish. It is with pride at an emotional win that I can present to you the finish products of 2 FULLY COMPLETED tooth pillows!


Immediately, I want to tell you that I know my stitching is bad and unevenly spaced, and that the old one isn't standing the test of time very well, and they're not terribly well constructed and will probably explode and injure my children in the process. OBVIOUSLY I'm not opening the Etsy store any time soon. But that is not helping. That is evil brain talking, and nobody is listening to that jack-tard anymore.

Oh, and despite all the rage and criticism and self loathing inside my own brain, the 4 year old was filled with joy, and his life had sparkles and magic. 

UPDATE: THE ACTUAL FREAKING SECOND I finished writing this happy ending little sweet moment here, this very child (the villain) just walked up to me with this very pillow and said, "Hey Mom, I think you messed up in this part here..."

THANK YOU FOR THE MOMENT OF HUMILITY, SON. I was definitely getting too big for my britches just there.

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