It has such promise of a relaxing family craft to do together.... sitting blissfully stitching children's toys and crafts on a cold winters day.
Fuck. Off. is it!
It all starts nicely, following the instructions, the felt pieces already cut to shape, its going to be so wonderful. DD impatiently wanting to get started.
So it starts - I have to unravel the thread, I mean, why not just provide the thread ready to go, not wrapped up around itself so that when you try to get the two threads from it, it turns into a fucking ball of hate?
Then you finally get enough thread to start, you try and thread the needle - who the hell invented that??? I can do micro-dissection of a single neuron, but i can't thread a needle without getting the shakes.
I start DD off, its all coming together (sort of) she mithers until i get to a bit that i can hand it over, try to show her to cries of "i know what i'm going" thank all the angels and saints for that i think, but two minutes later, shes knotted it, so sort it, or just pull the fucking thing apart and start the whole sorry thing again - get her started, she pulls the thread, which is now frayed as fuck out of the needle with the microscopic eye.
So do i feel relaxed?? no, i feel homicidal
But at least DD has a bag for her "dog" that we made last christmas before the sewing kit was tidied away hidden at the bottom of her toy shelves.
It promises soooo much, but i hate it, hate it, hate it.
I don't want to hate it, i want to be good at it and make lots of lovely things for friends and family, but well, a crafter i am not!
I feel i have failed as a woman 