To Gnome Me is to Love Me

I spent a ridiculous relaxing amount of time fashioning these gnomes this weekend.

My kids are shocked that I got them done (I can tell) but are delighted.

I have wanted to incorporate Elizabeth’s Gnomes and Gnumbers into our curriculum for a very long while now. I ordered the supplies a couple of months ago and there they sat, while the perfectionist in me dragged her feet (because, after all, what if they don’t turn out “perfect?”) and the side-tracked wife & momma in me found a hundred other chores to do.

You have no idea how hard it is for a person like me to be a crafter.

Then again, perhaps you do.

I finally shooed my perfectionism/procrastination into a cupboard (actually, I think it was a very messy junk drawer), gathered my supplies (once I had found them), made a call to my dear friend Tracy who talked me through it, and began.

That, for a person like me, is the key. We have to just begin the project and then—usually, but there are no guarantees—we follow through. Although—pardon me while I refill my coffee cup, finish my morning prayer, and make my husband’s lunch—it is also very hard for me to stay put. I am an inveterate twitch when it comes to sitting still—another facet of my side-tracked nature—because there are so many things that I could be doing that I have a hard time choosing one.

Well, I did it. I stayed put long enough to get five gnomes done.

I will bow my head modestly while you applaud.

The children were each allowed to choose the colors for “their” gnome. It bothered them that I insisted on matching capes and caps but I held firm, glued as I was to both my preferences and my seat. They were so pleased to see these little men emerging that they didn’t complain too much.

They would have also liked to help but this was not a very kid-friendly project. Those little pointy caps were a bear to get glued (as confirmed by the smudgy little marks on the points) but surprisingly, I was able to let it go. A breakthrough! They did not have to be perfect after all!

The French knots, too, were embarrassingly hard for me to figure out. My mother had taught me how years ago when I took up cross-stitching—I was pregnant with Cate and needed a hobby—but I had long since forgotten the process. I had to go to five different websites before I got it, and that was only after I found a video demonstration on YouTube. (I am visual to a fault.)

By Sunday afternoon I had completed a set of five—Did you hear that? I completed them!—and am looking forward to making one more set for good measure. The anti-crafter in me is quite surprised but the artist is most happy.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a junk drawer that needs cleaning.

Ad Jesum per Mariam,