Dear Inner Martha Stewart,
You were ecstatic about the arrival of four children – it would finally be your moment to shine. Daydreaming about the projects you could complete for the kids, the launch of Pinterest right before they came triggered a frenzy of unlimited ideas. However, things haven’t always worked out in the end, and I am reevaluating the level of influence I give you in my decision making.
It began innocently enough – Bird came home with a class assignment to invent her own country – demographics, imports and exports, even a poster of it’s flag. But for you, this wasn’t enough. “I have a really good idea Bird, why don’t we sew an actual flag with fabric!”. A great idea I admit, but the problem quickly became apparent: Inner Martha Stewart, you conflict with my Inner Procrastinator (or my inner “Works Well Under Pressure” as I call her to encourage myself).
Jump ahead to Halloween 2011: the kids wanted a few store bought masks and small costume items. Unfortunately “store bought Halloween costume” isn’t a phrase in your vocabulary. Together we convinced everyone that no store bought costume could come close to a hand sewn masterpiece. By noon on halloween day I was in doubt – sitting cross legged on the dining room floor, pinning tulle to elastic- my Hail Mary attempt at tutus. I momentarily understood that with you, when I am asked “Can you make a tutu?” I blurt out, “Sure, I can make a fabulous tutu”, without any previous experience and little knowledge of how to do so. Inner Martha Stewart, you embolden me, fill me with delusions of grandeur even.
Miraculously, we pulled off Halloween. Our next feat? A birthday party. Homemade, gluten free cupcakes and and frosting? Sure! No problem. Until then had I EVER made frosting- piped over a cupcake, an oh so delicate swirl on top? Nope. When the party was planned, I considered buying a sandwich platter from Costco until you chimed in, “Costco? Why on earth? We can easily whip up appetizers for thirty – Belgian style sweet potato fries in paper cones, buffalo wings from scratch, broccoli cheese balls and southwester egg rolls. Lets do it”…I caved.
By the next birthday party, I should have learned. But no- you convinced me to make all the food by hand AND rather than purchasing decorations, we stayed awake together until four in the morning crafting paper garlands, strategically hanging them throughout the house.
It hurts to be the bearer of bad news, Inner Martha Stewart, but my husband hates you. While he agrees we produce beautiful results, when you and my Inner Procrastinator rumble, he has to contend with my Inner Drama Queen and her very real sleep deprived meltdowns.
This year has been fun, you’ve pushed me to attempt craftiness I never thought possible. Learning new skills and gaining confidence I know – anything is possible with some determination, a sewing machine and hot glue gun. But perhaps the cliche is right, I can’t do it all, and store bought sandwich platters aren’t so bad.