My non-craft

I love hopping to and fro on my friends' blogs (okay and friends of their friends...people I don't even know) to see what sort of things they are crafting and coming up with. I have been blown away by some girlfriends who in a matter of months went from an "I only sew straight lines" to "I saw a picture of this dress in a magazine and made a pattern myself and sewed it this afternoon during my daughter's nap!"

True story.

I have other friends who sew beautiful quilts, knit dolls, create cards, and make cute personalized t-shirts just because they saw a picture or read a blog and it inspired them. I have friends who are amazing chefs, others are artists. I have fabulous photographer friends, too. And some do it all. (don't worry, I won't link you to their blogs, it's not good for the self-esteem)

I am a self-proclaimed non-crafter. I won't go so far to say that I hate crafting or I can't craft. I just don't. In my spare moments of time when I feel the creative juices flowing through my veins, ideas from etsy don't call my name, begging my hands to make something beautiful. I don't lose myself in fabric stores, and I don't crave the feeling of scrapbooking scissors against my fingers.

I could feel sorry for myself for somehow lacking the gene (or just the gumption) that would make me fit better into the stay-at-home-mom scene, but I do appreciate that choice I finally made to simply not seek out ways to craft.

In my new mom/wife years, I attempted quite nearly all of the above. Scrapbooking, Sewing, Cooking, Personalized Onesies, Card making.... but it wasn't because I really loved doing any of them.... it just seemed like the right thing to do. Seemingly every woman in my midst at the time excelled in one or all of those things, and so I followed suit. I figured if I did something enough, I might actually discover a hidden talent and become really great at something, or fall in love doing something, finding one of those things cathartic. Disappointingly, I did not find myself relieving stress by embellishing scrapbook pages or chopping onions, and one by one, the attempts at a craft disappeared.

I am really ashamed for admitting that, partially because that indicates I am a quitter, and partially because it was such a shallow reason to motivate me to do something. Granted, there will always be times in our lives when we have to do things we don't enjoy. [ I still will maintain that I desire to become a better cook. I think that one will never leave my New Year's Resolutions list.]. It is also true that in order to discover talents, one must try things out. But I really did fail at most of the above. Not because what came out of those crafting days were disasters. Some were, don't get me wrong. But some things actually turned out okay and truth be told, I enjoyed seeing a finished creation. I still do. I feel like during those crafting days I failed miserably because I wasn't being true to myself. I was in school, trying to balance being a mom to a new-born and still be involved in my major through outside activities (though practicing my future profession was not going to happen for another score of years or so). Trying my hand at sewing, scrapbooking and the like during those stressful days was absolutely ridiculous. It just added more stress.

Can you believe I actually attempted to sew Cade's bumpers for his nursery? I still cringe at the thought. The greatest day of my life was when I donated the bumpers to the D. I. The equilvalent of about 2 tons of obligation lifted from my shoulders that day. I was no longer obligated to make a matching quilt or curtains once that bumper was gone. The day I finally told my neighbor the reason I didn't go to scrapbooking night was because I didn't scrapbook was liberating. Sure, I had scrapbooks, and I had scrapbooking supplies (all from the because I was supposed to era) but to verbalize, "I don't scrapbook" was the beginning of my coming clean on quitting things I did out of obligation or trying to fit a mold of someone I wasn't doing during my precious spare time.

I'm probably the only person who gets panicky and nervous when filling out a questionaire that asks about your interests. I usually go for the easy ones that I think accurately describe what I enjoy doing: reading, writing and running. Depending on the season I'll add snowboarding, but even still, I go in spurts, and I'm still pretty bad at it. I feel sheepish writing any of them down, because typically those questionaires are trying to discover something you do that you can contribute to a cause. It's admitting that I am a non-contributor.

And every once in a while (probably when I am looking at those blogs of yours) I feel like I am not being true to myself because I don't create those beautiful things I see you all whipping out on your sewing machines and art studios. Perhaps it is a woman thing---the desire to create is innate. It's a funny, paradoxical kind of feeling. By crafting I am not being true to myself and not crafting I am still not being true to myself.

So I have been thinking lately, when all is quiet in the house, and I feel like I am on the verge of something creative, what results?? Sometimes an over-analyzed post regarding my love for cake results, occasionally something yummy is baked, and ruminations about a novel idea continue but there isn't anything tangible that I can snap a photo of and see "look what I made!"

Then it dawned on me. I do have something I crave. I do think about something and thrive on this and feel accomplished and true to myself doing. I have random notebooks stashed around the house to jot new ideas about it, I scour the internet in search of this, and my head perks up if there is a show advertised about this.

Organization.

I don't claim to be an expert, and I don't always practice what I preach (or dream about) but truly in the quiet hours I find myself dreaming of my in-home office to file papers in, a laundry room to launder in, drawers to empty and re-arrange, and garages to hang bikes and store bats and balls in.

So one should think, Great! With all the moving you do, I bet you thrive on the unpacking.

False.

I mostly crave the future home I am going to unpack into. Not because of the paint colors, curtains and couches I am going to pick out, which that will still be fun. But I dream about it for all the ways I am going to beautifully store our stuff, how I am going to functionally arrange things and use those ideas from that magazine I read while waiting at my allergist's office. (I was this close to making another appoinment with my allergist just so I could snag the magazine. I dream about that 6-page spread all the time. If only I could remember the name of it.....) The ultimate dream when I have a lot of time is the design of my walk-in closet. I think about it all the time. What drawers I am going to have built into it, how wide my dress-hanging portion will be, the width of the cubbies, the placement of hooks.....

It may seem like a boring fascination and unfortunately I can't snap pictures and say, "This is what I made today!" Or, "during Savannah's nap, I decided to whip this together, isn't it cute?" Or "I grabbed these things at a craft store and I'm waiting for a rainy day when it all comes together!" But friends, do know that I have one mean 3-car garage brewing in my head and a food pantry that could very well knock your socks off.

In the mean time, keep making those beautiful things, my dear friends! I love looking at them and I love you for making them!