My mom called the other day while we were painting a craft outside for Christmas presents and while I had them out there I decided to get some of my spray painting projects done that I’ve had sitting around. My mom asked what we were doing and I told her the two older boys (bigger as in 7 and 5, remember?!) were spray painting with black paint and she said laughing, “You are so brave, I don’t know how you do it day in and day out!” Around here painting is not a quiet sweet adventure like I always envision happens at her house . Around here crafts are a contact sport.
Case in point:
It’s been a long time since we’ve played with cornstarch. And last time I was smart enough to do it outside on a warm day. We tried to go outside, but it was just too darn cold. And by then, I was way in over my head in promises (blasted Time Warp put the idea back into our heads to play with it!) So, I threw caution to the wind and let them loose at the table. I tried to grab back my caution a few times and even found myself saying through gritted teeth at one point, “Can you imagine how Kate from Jon & Kate would be handling this right now?! That’s how I feel, people!”
And if I thought the actual mess making merriment was stressful, when I sent them all off to baths and stood looking at the aftermath, I really realized I was in deep. How do you propose to clean up a non-newtonian fluid? My fun-weary head could only come up with more water. That at least makes it fluid enough to wipe. So I poured a gallon of water on my table and floor, oh, yes, I did. And then I used towels to wipe. As you can imagine, by this time my children were wandering in dripping wet themselves from their recent cleanings and I was in a rush to at least get the bulk of the mess up. I gave up when I got the puddles clean. When my husband got home from work there was a big ol’ ring around the table where I quit wiping and drips from one end of the house to the other. He said, “It looks like flour blew up in here.” Yeah, something like that.
While cleaning (if you can call it that) my mom’s words from the day before came back to me and I thought, “Brave, maybe. Stupid, for sure.”