Tomorrow is the Phoenix Indie Craftorama, an event I put together over the past few months with the help of some new friends in the local craft scene. I worked really hard on every aspect to ensure its success: distributing fliers, press releases, etc. Everything except making Crafty Chica merchandise to sell!
I kept putting it off because I’ve had such a busy week. I figured if all else failed, I’d suck down a quad venti mocha and work all night tonight. I planned to sew at least three fabric collage purses, make a dozen of my resin picture bracelets, and even glitter some ceramic puppy banks.
I had the night mapped out, ready to go. First I had to write next week’s craft column about Mother’s Day projects. One of the ideas involved personalizing a family board game to promote mother/child bonding time. I wrote about not letting work get in the way of your kids, etc…
I sent it to my editor and dusted my hands, proud that I could FINALLY go in the studio and crank out some wares. Yay! Marathon crafting session! I walked into the kitchen and there is Maya, my 15-year-old, holding the very game I wrote about for my Mother’s Day column.
“Mom, can we play? I love this game!”
I threw my hands in the air, thinking about precious minutes of productivity clicking away. I shot back, “No! I can’t tonight, you know I have the craft show tomorrow! I haven’t even made one thing! Please don’t put this on me right now!”
She frowned. “All I want is to play one game. It’s Friday night. Geez, you don’t even have time for one game?”
I sighed, defeated. “Fine. Let’s play. Come one, let’s make it quick,” I replied.
“Forget it, Mom,” she said, before storming off to her room.
One thing about working from home in this kind of business is that there is no 9-to-5. It’s 24/7/365. It’s easy to become a machine and want to work hard and fast to keep up, and look like the perfect mom who juggles everything with a smile. It’s easy to assume everyone knows your deadlines, but they don’t. All they see is work, work, work.
Minutes later, I had to run an errand. I barely pulled out of the driveway when I realized how lame I was to Maya.
When I got home, I knocked on her door (locked). She opened it just a sliver and still had that mad-dog look in her eyes that makes me crumble to a million pieces inside (she gets it from her father!). I pouted and gave her my best “I’m sorry” puppy dog eyes.
“Will you play with me?” I pleaded, holding the game up to my face.
She couldn’t help but giggle. She opened the door and let me in. We sat on her bed, watched Laguna Beach DVDs and she totally creamed me at Connect 4.
Afterwards I walked in the art room – and turned off the lights.
Eh, forget making stuff for the event tomorrow. Patrick is providing the music entertainment, Maya and her friend are doing the make-and-takes, DeAngelo is sending good vibes. My family is giving up their Saturday to support me! That’s all I need. Yup, I’m just going to go and support my crafty homegirls (and boys) and have a good time at the show. I’m going to crash early tonight and get a good night’s sleep.
It feels so good to have come to that conclusion. Otherwise, I swear to God, I would have been making stuff until 5 a.m., and something would have made me cry tomorrow, because I would be so sleepy.
Sometimes it’s OK to let things go. “L.I.G.” as the kids tell me when I get worked up over something silly. Life goes on, the world will not crumble. At times like this I step back and look at the big picture.
I’d rather Maya have the memory of playing Connect 4, than me sitting in the art room, all by myself, working into the wee hours of the morning.
On that note, good night! Thank you for reading about my family dramz! You know you have some too! We all do, other wise we really would be machines!
* All content/photos copyright, © Kathy Cano-Murillo, 2008.