Like pretty much every woman these days, I have a Pinterest account. I love Pinterest unashamedly. My boards are a ridiculous collection of delicious foods, beautiful clothing, whimsical DIY projects and gorgeous home interiors. I can and have spent hours lost in a Pinterest hole, much to the dismay of my husband who likes to do things like “have conversations” and “spend time together” when he gets home from work. However, beneath the shiny exterior of my Pinterest boards, I keep a deep, dark secret. I don’t like admitting it out loud, but it has to be said.

I suck at crafting.

I KNOW. I’M SORRY.

I feel like I’m living a DIY lie.

I want to be so good at crafting. Since I’ve become a stay-at-home mom, I feel guilty just sitting around doing nothing. The logical part of me knows that my life is the furthest from sitting around, since I am constantly doing laundry, picking things up, moving things, cleaning, chasing a toddler around, grocery shopping, etc. But the secret part of me feels that I’m not doing enough, so I have a constant need to work on crafts.

The problem, however, is that I am terrible at it. I possess little to no artistic skill, and I am incredibly impatient. I also hold myself to an almost impossible standard of perfection, so if I am not immediately good at something, I want to quit immediately. The result is a whole lot of good intentions and half-finished projects. Take, for example, the time I tried to make an Ottoman out of a wooden pallet. I whined at Ross for days to find pallets so that I could work on this project. I laid out all the arguments for why an upholstered ottoman was going to be much safer than the glass coffee table we had for our not quite moving around yet baby. He finally relented and found me a few pallets, dragged them onto the porch and told me to have fun.

I spent an entire afternoon going to fabric stores and hardware stores, picking out the perfect chevron fabric, twee table legs, spray paint, foam and quilt batting. I’m fairly sure I spent around $150 on supplies. Then, I got home and got to work. I dragged the pallet into our house. It was much bigger than I had originally thought. It was also much rougher and splintery than I had imagined, with sharp and uneven corners perfect for poking a baby’s eye out. I made my husband cut plywood to fit each side and nailed it on. Problem solved, right? My ottoman weighed roughly one hundred pounds, but that just meant it was stable. I went to work cutting the foam to fit (it didn’t), stapling it on with our staple gun (it wouldn’t hold) and then went to cover it with the fabric I had bought. Evidently, in my excitement, I had measured incorrectly, and there was no way my fabric was going to cover this ridiculous looking, lumpy, foam-covered nightmare.

I looked at it, kicked it a few times, and tore all the foam off in a fit of bratty anger. Now we have a 3’x3’ wooden platform/karaoke stage in our backyard. We went to Target and bought an $80 storage ottoman.

I have boxes full of crafting supplies, yarn, fake flowers, fabric, etc. You name it, I’ve probably tried and failed to hot glue it together. I’m pretty sure the first step is admitting you have a problem, but I can’t let go of the hope that one day I will be a taller, more tattooed and less tax evading Martha Stewart. In the meantime, I’ll be over here…. Pinning that tutorial on how to make an adorable wreath out of toilet paper rolls, coffee filters and good intentions.

(You can see what nonsense I’m pinning these days right here)