I put a shopping list together and just had to go get the supplies.
Who’s a slacker? NOT ME!
3 P.M.
A Crafting Essentials starter list can be found on my website. The 67 items listed will get you started on your crafting journey. You’ll find they are more than affordable and add up to only around $600. My children and I begin a new craft every morning at 7 a.m. on the dot. We begin by changing into our matching aprons on which I hand-embroidered our initials. We enjoy crafting by the light of the sun on a project table made from reclaimed lumber that I sanded and stained myself over a lazy weekend.
—Emily Walker, Motherhood Better
I decided to wait until Aubrey woke up from her nap to start crafting. Yes, she’s just a baby, but I was sure Laura Ingalls Wilder’s mother passed down all of her canning and quilting skills to her at a young age. I felt like it was important for Aubrey to grow up in a homemade environment and see me take charge of the home or something.
To get into the mood, we even wore matching aprons, just like the ones Emily and her kids wear. Unlike Emily, though, I didn’t make them; they sell them at Michelle’s, the home base for all crafters. It’s a huge chain. I’d never been in there before today, and after I’d spent a house payment on supplies I was still confused by the prices. Was everything supposed to be that expensive? I actually had to double-check the currency with an employee. “I’m sorry, but what money is this in? Turkish lira? Pesos?” Maybe everything was blessed, like kosher food but by Martha Stewart.
Wasn’t the whole point of making things to save money? I was pretty sure Laura Ingalls Wilder wouldn’t have stepped foot in a Michelle’s.
Michelle’s lures you in with the promise of a better life and then empties your checking account. It’s like one of those fraudulent emails from an overseas “prince” promising you an inheritance you don’t deserve. Michelle’s has the same business model as movie theaters: offer you a good time, and once you’re trapped inside charge $12 for a small popcorn—or, in Michelle’s case, $200 for an old-timey popcorn maker. I almost bought it, too. That is, until I pictured David’s face when I told him that I spent a car insurance payment on the promise of buttery snacks.
There was an entire aisle just for glue. GLUE. And one for cake stands. Since when did people get too good to eat cake out of the pan it was baked in? I bought one anyway. I’ve decided I’m going to make Aubrey’s birthday cakes every year. I also picked up some piping bags, a book about cake decorating and some fondant for snacking while I learn. Unfortunately, they didn’t sell baking skills, but I have a couple months to learn.
I’ve already completed my first craft! After we returned from giving all of our money to the craft store, I placed Aubrey in her high chair and got to hobbying! The first craft up was the DIY watercolor mugs.
Outcome: Moderately successful.
The instructions said to fill a plastic bowl with water and gently dump in whatever colors of nail polish you’d like. Then you’re supposed to swirl around the colors with a toothpick until they’re “dreamy looking.” Technically, I did this correctly because last time I checked, nightmares are considered dreams. Maybe I shouldn’t have purchased so many blacks and blues.
After that, you carefully dip your white mugs that cost $6 each at Michelle’s in the water, creating beautiful designs. I bought eight so that I could give them as gifts to the family.
You should see Joy’s Pinterest profile. She has more than thirty pages and half of them are crafts she invented. I know I can’t outdo her, but at least I can prove I’m not completely useless.
Back to the crafting. Maybe it was the colors I chose, but my mugs look less “a starry night” and more “acute skin damage.” They look like they’re emo. I’m going to call them Mood Mugs Inspired by Xanax and hope they’re not interpreted as a cry for help.
Other than that, totally nailed it.
Next I was going to try my hand at the DIY stain remover that’s supposedly a staple in Emily Walker’s laundry room, but Aubrey was getting fussy. I threw a handful of fruit puffs down on her high chair. She inhaled them. Like mother, like daughter. I decided we needed a break and picked her up for a little bit of play (and reality television) in the living room. Before leaving the kitchen, I looked back at the colossal mess I’d created. For a lot less money, time and effort, I could have purchased eight mugs that didn’t look like they’d been in a fight. As hard as I tried, I just didn’t get the point of crafting. Maybe I just had to give it some time.
After that, I put Aubrey down for her nap and felt the familiar fatigue and boredom of late afternoon setting in. I wondered what David was up to.
The phone rang three times before he answered it.
“Hi, Ashley.” He sounded stressed.
“Hi, David, how’s work?” I yawned, exhausted.
“It’s busy. What’s up?”
“Oh, nothing. Just wanted to say hi. I hit up the craft store this morning and—”
“Is that where you spent $300? I just saw it come out of the bank account.”
Well wasn’t he Mister On Top of the Finances.
“Yes. But David, I’m learning that it’s very important for me to flex my creative muscles. Crafting is my outlet.”
“Well, it’s also a bit of a drain. Just don’t go crazy. Things might get tight soon.”
My ears perked up. “What? Why?”
“We were just underbid on two accounts I was counting on. It’s a lot rougher out here than I thought.”
I tried to think of some words of encouragement for my brave entrepreneur husband. “I know you can do this. You’re smart.”
“Yeah. Thanks, babe. I’m trying.” He sighed softly. “I’d better let you go.”
“Okay. What time are you coming home tonight?”
“After dinner. Sorry.”
I felt a tug in the pit of my stomach.
“That’s okay. Do what you have to do.”
I hung up the phone and collapsed onto the couch. Even though I’d only intended to rest my eyes for a few minutes, I found myself waking up two hours later to Aubrey whining loudly.
I checked my phone. It was 4:45. Time for the second shift. Motherhood had a way of making one day feel like two. Or three.
I was just picking Aubrey up out of her bed when the doorbell rang.
“Did I order a package?” I thought to myself as I galloped downstairs with a sleepy Aubrey on my hip. David wasn’t going to love that.
I could see the cheetah print through the glass window on the door and knew who it was before I even opened the door.
“Hi, Gloria!” I said, puzzled. “What are you, um...what are you doing here?”