I've always noticed that the photos in all the craft blogs show happy little children doing happy little crafts and everyone is smiling and the families seem so homespun and put together. I know that the times when I post craft photos on this website it may seem like that, too, but let me assure you: there is not one craft session chez Loesch where someone doesn't get mad because their brother has the green scissors I WANT THE GREEN SCISSORS, or someone can't find their blue crayon or someone superglues their pinky finger to the table, or someone taste-tests an Elmer's glue stick because hey, it was pink.
Come to think of it, all the art teachers I had in school growing up were beyond deranged, which, if I had to teach herds of kids art day in and day out, I would be, too.
I manage to snap a couple of photos because a) I like adding it here and keeping a record of their home education for them to look back on and b) I need to keep it here as a record of their home education for the days when I want to rip my hair out. Win-win.
I've gotten pretty ambitious with their art (not mine, never again), even graduating Liam from acrylic paint to oils, though I honestly haven't had the brass to let him go whole hog with it yet. The other day we tackled a new project for Halloween: the ghost mobile.
I used spare white fabric, tissue paper, string, and a bottle of vodka. I kid. The boys drew faces on their ghosts, stuffed with tissue paper, and I used some sticks from the yard to create the "hardware" part of the mobile. Liam was totally grossed out that I just went into the yard and like, grabbed some random sticks. He wanted to go to the craft store and spend money on dowel rods or something "more mobile-er, mom." I told him he if wanted to use his allowance to pay for gas on the way down and purchase the supplies he was more than welcome, otherwise it's STICKS FROM THE BACKYARD. He seemed happy with the original plan after that.
And the mobile turned out ... weird. It's cute but it doesn't look like the ghosts are floating so much as hanging.
Whatever it looks like, it's hanging in my stairwell.