Recently my five-year old son and I made a spider craft. We made a spider on a paper plate using his
handprints. And since Valentines Day is
coming up, I put a little heart underneath and at the top, I wrote, “You are
Spiderific!” And I had a realization:
That phrase takes all of the awkwardness out of Valentines Day cards. Instead of having to sort through and decide
which friend, or secret crush will get the card that says, “Be Mine” or “You’re
My Best Friend” or “Be True,” just draw a picture of a dog, cat, spider, or
anything you want to draw and then write “You are_________erific!” It’s simple, and not awkward, and there’s no
commitment. I think when I was a kid I
would have done “You are Mountain-erific,” because back then I liked drawing
pictures of mountains. I even drew one
in my journal because I thought I was really good and I wanted to be able to
look at it as an adult. It turns out
that it wasn’t very impressive. But if
someone asked me about my talent back then, I was like, “Do you have a pen and
a paper, and a mind that’s ready to be blown?!”
Another discovery I had while making this spider craft is
that I love to do crafts that are geared toward elementary age students. And I’m good at them. And it’s kind of therapeutic for me because
here are two things about my personality: 1.
I’m competitive and 2. I’m
mediocre. And that combination is tricky. But I’ve figured out how to make it
work. I just have to find simple things
to excel at (like children’s crafts), or I have to develop talents that aren’t
the typical talents. So I like to run,
but there’s always a better runner, so I like to run on the treadmill, but
there’s always, someone who does that too, so I read books on the treadmill
while I run, and just in case “The New Girl in Town” comes along and does that
too, I’m going to work on flossing my teeth, while I read, and run, all at the
same time. And that’s an extra bonus for
me, because my teeth are, unfortunately, not mediocre (it’s a genetic
thing). Then when people who are faster
than me start bragging about their running times, I’ll be like, “Meet me ‘after
school,’ on the treadmill, bring a book, and I’m not talking about no Cat in
The Hat” (and I’ll have floss in my pocket just in case).
But this kind of talk sounds very selfish, so back to
spending time with my five-year old. I
appreciate that quality time. I think he
appreciates it too. But you never
know. The other night he kind of sent me
some mixed messages. My oldest son, (who
is twelve), was going to sleep and before going to his room he said, “You’re
the best mom ever. I hope if I have a daughter, she grows up to be a mom just
like you.” My five year old was
listening and decided to chime in with, “Mom, you’re the best mom ever. I hope I have a daughter just like you, but, a little bit nicer.” See what I’m saying about “mediocre?” I can’t seem to shake it!!
