I have memories of glue gun strings. There were also pom-pom balls, pipe cleaners and silk flowers from Michael’s. But more than anything, the wisps of glue that inevitably trailed behind stick with me.
You see, before Pinterest Moms were a thing, my mother was a glue gun lady.
We made all sorts of crafts. Some of them were decorative- I remember her gluing birds to fans and placing them on the walls to compliment the couches. Others of them were Girl Scout swaps and sent home troop members as a part of merit badges. Once there was even an entire dress made of tissue paper and cardboard for a childhood fashion show of some sort.
But this time of year, I think of holiday crafts.
I’m not sure where her ideas even came from. (Seriously, how did people manage motherhood before the internet gave us instructions? Imagination?)
Somehow, we made Thanksgiving candy holders that looked like turkeys.
To this day, any Christmas tree in her house is graced with a pair of matching reindeer ornaments sporting googly eyes, green and red felt saddles and golden glitter hooves.
We’d go to the craft store for materials, and come home to assemble our masterpieces. I got to take charge of anything that didn’t involve potential third-degree burns or getting my finger stuck to my eyelid. Cutting paper, wrapping pipe cleaners, and covering everything in glitter was my domain. And when it came time to make things stick, mom had it under control.
There was nothing that my mother couldn’t tackle with her glue gun on a Saturday afternoon.
Whether we were aiming for whimsy, elegance or pure festive magic, she had it covered. And while now I see that those googly eyes were pretty crooked and the turkey was a bit like modern art, at the time you couldn’t tell me that our creations weren’t good enough to be shown in a Macy’s show window, or featured in the Hallmark store.
Even recently I remember being home needing to attach something strongly, and hesitating before I went to the box where I knew the glue gun was kept. I almost called out for Mom.
Adulthood is funny that way, right?
I’m trusted with newborns in the wee hours of the morning, (and I promise I’m a well qualified postpartum and infant care doula), but I’m not convinced that I can handle a glue gun.
Christmas the past few years has been quieter. We watch movies, sometimes decorate a smidge, and mostly just hang out as adults who enjoy a day off.
Since I haven’t given her grandchildren (and thankfully, she’s not a nosy Nelly about the status of my uterus), we haven’t gotten into any crafty magic during Christmas time in a while.
As I watch doula clients come up with their own holiday traditions though, I get a little nostalgic.
Parents never know what will stick with their kids. I’m not sure that my mom knows how attached I am to the reindeer ornaments.
I wonder if she’s like our doula clients, and there’s something from my infancy that she still frets over. If she worries about the times that she had to do schoolwork on a Saturday afternoon instead of playing with me. Or heaven forbid, if she remembers some awful thing I said as a teenager in a flood of hormones.
I hope not. Because as a woman who had an amazing mother (and doesn’t tell her enough) I want to reassure any parent reading this of something-
The effort that you’re putting in for your child matters.
In 30 years, the little one who’s now 6 years or 6 months old may not remember every position that you placed the Elf on a Shelf in, or the precise folds with which you wrapped their new Sophie the Giraffe.
But they’ll remember being loved, and all the ways that you showed it. Holiday memories- and everyday memories- are made in the little moments that we don’t realize will seem large later. A happy childhood is not about perfection.
So whatever your equivalent of a glue gun is, wield it proudly. Make some memories, and don’t worry if the googly eyes aren’t perfect.
[convertkit form=5250297]
Be sure to check out our online pregnancy course designed for women of color, Attain.
