Scrapbooking is not for weenies and Raging Cynicism

I don't have that much gear.

No, let me start at the beginning. I never wanted to scrapbook. When I envisioned scrapbooking I saw long denim skirt-alls, appliqued blouses two sizes too large with puffy headbands that actually matched one of the fabrics of the applique. Maybe a head scarf or two... maybe a couple of large square lace collars. I saw women whose lives were so boring, pasting little pieces of paper on other pieces of paper was fun. I saw a major recession back to pre-school, like they'd joined their kids entertainments.

I was wrong.

Now, like knitting, it has turned the way of the hipsters, with more bling than a 50 cent show and definitely (in my circles) a clear lack of skirt-alls. I started scrapbooking because I wanted to meet and get to know the women in my apartment complex who get together occasionally to craft. They were the ones who opened my eyes to a completely different world, which, when governed by the idea that it's all going to burn anyway, let's you create (something I rarely get to do these days unless I'm producing offspring) and remember (something else I have no time to do unless it's reminding myself to start dinner).

It's my only hobby. That is something I hesitate to admit for fear I do fit into the above categories of "my life is so boring pasting little pieces of paper on other pieces of paper is fun" and "I've had a major recession and only enjoy what my kids enjoy".

If this is my only hobby, has my life really become this dull? I mean, I love scrapbooking. My pages are fun and interesting (I think). I'm getting better every page I do. I feel like it helps me focus on all the good things I have in my life and I'm more grateful and content after I scrapbook a page. I pray for the people in my photos when I scrapbook. It's a peaceful time (for me) and an all too rare time of contemplation and creativity. It's the only time like it I get in my life. That is very satisfying.

So why do I feel so boooooooring?

Is it just that I need another hobby? Other outlets? A part-time job? Am I not content enough in the "Christian" female ideal of "raising my kids is the only outlet I need"? I've never fitted the whole 'wifey-mothery' mold, which is about as uncomfortable as you can get in most Christian circles, and it's not like I'm dying to leave home and get away from my children, but there never seems to be a comfortable place for me to rest. (Why I have to label it I don't know, but that does tend to be my personality. You know: categories, labels etc, i crave order in my brain, if not enough in my life)

Subsequently, I seem to be too Christian for the arty people, and too arty for the Christian people. To liberal for the conservatives, and to conservative for the liberals. I love hard-core scrapbooking, but I hate crafts.

There is no clique for me. Which is logical and stupid all at the same time. Why would an arty person want to be labeled, and why would a labling person want to be creative?

Have any of my friends noticed I have such serious personality issues? :P

Anyway, this was going to be about the fact that I don't have that much gear for scrapbooking, and yet it's heavy to lug around and I often need at least one other person to help out, and that if you take your time and do a good job it takes a lot of concentration and a lot of thought and a long creative process (if you work on it like I do) and that can be pretty hard core sometimes. So you need to be physically strong, mentally strong, and emotionally strong to scrapbook. (I think, although now that sounds a lot more 'weenie' than I'd envisioned in my head.)

::Now on to the raging cynicism part::

But then I come home to a house that looks thrashed. Really it's just that the kids and I cleaned the kitchen of toys three times today (something that, to look at it, seems absurdly unlikely) but right before my husband got home they pulled out the toy box again. Also for the last three days they've played dress ups with my clean laundry, and I've folded it four times (that was on the first day) before I gave up and let them play with it because it was one activity they didn't fight about. It discourages me that two activities gone awry can depress me so much. Stupid things, small things that combined make me look (and subsequently feel) lazy. And of course, it's only when things are at their worst that you have unexpected guests see your house. They never seem to come when it's clean. (And believe it or not those of you who've seen my house, it does actually look clean, just not when you chose to come over). I'm tired of making excuses. "Oh sorry, the kids were playing" or "I'm sorry, we're in the middle of a project" or "I'm sorry, I've been busy taking care of sick kids for the last 5 weeks, haven't left the house in 2, haven't showered in 3 days and I feel like crap today... oh and I'm PMSing so just don't look at the mess." Even if it's true, and "life". Tired of it.

I look at these two, small, stupid activities strewn about my floors. They would probably take me 20 minutes (right now in the wee hours of the morning) to clean up. Thing is, within 10 minutes tomorrow, it'd look like this again. Do I really want to clean something up, that in 6 hrs will disappear, and while it's clean no-one can appreciate.

A better woman would say yes. Yes! Go take 20 minutes and just do it. Do it for yourself, do it for your family, do it for the Lord.

I am not that woman. God bless you, if she is you. You're a better woman than I. And I wish I could toggle that switch in my brain that keeps me from being you, so I'd fit in, stop making excuses, and finally have a perfectly clean house. All the time!