Yesterday I read the last 50 pages or so of the books you all recommended to me. I’ll post about that later. But today is about something else. It’s about wanting to skate and not skating because everyone had colds. It’s about doing homework with kids while sewing and not sewing very well. It’s about A being frantically busy and out of the picture all day of necessity on a day when both kids had a lot of homework that required supervision and explanation from a parent.
It’s about snapping at the girls because they (as kids do) gave me blank looks with hair hanging over eyes or fled the scene and got occupied with more pleasant tasks like decorating the science project rather than writing it up. And I couldn’t get the tension right on my sewing machines. And I was running up and downstairs reading the manual (on the computer), then looking over the sm.
It’s about intending to make cupcakes with the kids and make dinner, but instead M (my eldest) made the cupcakes on her own for the first time and A is whipping up a quick dinner. Because it is 7:36 now.
And in the end, the girls got their homework done and they learned something. I was the only parent only for a few hours, and I am so glad A is back with smiles and the good spirit that he usually has. I made a drawstring bag for M, though there were rough edges I forgot to turn under to finish them off because I wasn’t focusing on what I was doing any better than my kids were at times. Yet it’s a strong bag and serviceable.
It irks a part of me that the bag has so many mistakes on the inside, and yet another part knows that I don’t have time to unstitch and re-do it. I reserve that meticulousness for writing.
But should I? Where do you draw the line around artistic integrity and craftsmanship?