What NOT to make your mom this Mother’s Day

Okay, so Mother’s Day is next weekend and I could totally buy my mom some fun earrings, or grab her a gift card at Tarjay, or pick out some pretty flowers to be delivered and then curse the company because they want to charge me an extra million dollars for delivery on Mother’s Day, but nope, none of that is good enough for my mom. Because my mom is so awesome, listen to what she did for me.

She delivered me feet-first without an epidural.

Nope, that is not a typo. Before they had time to give her a c-section and before there was time for the drugs to kick in, I came out feet first and ripped her a new one. Plus, I was born with hairy shoulders so she couldn’t even show me off. And guess what, even after all that, plus a whole lot of other crap I put her through, she still loves me. So she deserves something especially kickass for Mother’s Day. Not just some lame-ass boring present I can run in and pick up at the store.

Nope, it’s time to go to Pinterest and make her something with a lot of effort and love and an extra dose of “WTF, you are NOT supposed to do crafty shit like this?!!” But my mom is so great, I’m going to ignore my gut and craft her something beeeeautiful with the kiddos. Searching, searching, searching, hey, this Pinterest project looks cool! I would show it to you, but I don’t want to ruin the surprise. Don’t worry, I took pictures.

So I’m off to the art supply store! Okay, I need cloth napkins, watercolor dye, and rubber bands. Awww shit, those stupid Pinterest instructions forgot to tell me something else I need too. Martha F’ing Stewart. Because if you’re like me with some crazy-ass delusion that you can do an art project like this, you’re gonna need a partner who knows WTF she’s doing. But alas, the project supply list doesn’t say anything about getting one of your Pinteresty friends to help out so I completely forget to pick up Martha Stewart and this is how the project goes down.

ME: Kids, put on some black clothing and come to the backyard!!!

Because three years ago I did an art project that had dye in it and I learned a few important things: A. Never ever do an art project with dye ever again. B. If you have Mommy brain and forget this very important lesson, make sure you wear clothing that cannot be stained. And C. Do that shit outside.

ME: Okay, guys, so first we fold our napkins like an accordion.

ZOEY: I can’t do it!!

HOLDEN: I can’t do it either!!! Help me!!!

ZOEY: She’s helping me first!

HOLDEN: NO, HELP ME FIRST!!!!!!

(insert a crapload of annoying crying and whining and yelling here)

ME: Fine, you guys go play and I’ll do half of the project alone and call you when the napkins are folded and ready to be dyed.

So I accordion-fold all the napkins by myself, AFTER I have to take them out of the packaging which requires me to open each staple carefully because some brainiac decided to staple every package to every napkin, so by the time I’m finish my fingers are a raw bloody mess. Awesome.

ME: Kids, time to come dye the napkins (that are covered in blood)!!

And they run over with excitement to come dip their triangular folded napkins in the dye while I casually stand off to the side lending them moral support.

ME: Aggghhh, noooooo, don’t dip it so far in!!! Get your fingers out of the dye!!! You’re dripping dye everywhere!!! Why can’t you guys dip them neatly?!!!! 

And so on and so on for eight fun-filled napkins. Wheeeee, this art project is FUN!!!!

And by the time they’re finished, I’ve freaked out no fewer than 600 times, and my kids are scarred for life, and our hands look like this.

Zoey calls them Smurf hands. I call them how-long-is-this-shit-gonna-last hands. And it’s not just our hands. This is what our feet look like from all the drips in the grass.

I am literally making the kids wear socks all week because I’m scared shitless the dye is going to come off all over our white carpet. And if you think I’m an idiot for having white carpet, I did NOT pick it. It came with the house. And I refuse to replace it until the kids are older because heck if I’m putting new carpet in for it just to get ruined. And to be honest, I don’t know why I even care about our colored feet getting all over the carpet because it’s already stained with throw-up and markers and cat puke and toddler poop.

Anyways, even though we’re supposed to wait for the folded napkins to dry before we open them up, Zoey’s been begging for so long that I finally say I don’t give a rat’s behind what you do, and she opens them. Wait a second. Hold the phone. This has got to be a mistake. These napkins look pretty. Like really pretty!! Like Zoey and I can’t stop oohing and ahhing over them and she keeps whining that she really wants to keep the prettiest one for herself and I keep yelling at her not to be selfish, that these are for Grandma and we can make more later (total lie because I’m never doing this again).

So we leave the napkins out to dry, and of course I forget and have to go on a scavenger hunt for them a few days later when they’ve blown all around the yard and that’s when I realize, oh crap, I better wash these things before we give them to my mom or I can totally see her using them for her next dinner party and all the guests wipe their mouths with them and the colors rub off all over their faces. Bwhahahahahaha, funny but not funny. So I throw them into the washing machine.

Ding!! The wash it done. I take them out.

No. NO. NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! WHY MEEEEE?!!!!!!

Yes, this is what our gorgeous beautiful napkins come out looking like. Are you F’ing kidding me? Let’s just say my swear jar runneth over. Apparently the color stays on your skin but not in cotton napkins. WTF?

Now excuse me, please, because I have to go run to the store and find something boring and generic to give my mom for Mother’s Day. In a gift bag WITH the napkins WITH a printout of this post. Because even though they are nothing more than ugly white napkins with faint color stains on them now, hell if I’m not showing her all of the thought and effort and love we TRIED to put into her present.

Happy Mother’s Day to my mom and every other mom out there!!

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And guess what is an awesome gift to give any mom this Mother’s Day and doesn’t require the Martha Stewart gene. My book I Want My Epidural Back!! Give it with a giant bottle of wine or a box of Depends!