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| | Why the Ant is Not EnoughAnyone who is still reading my crazy blog lately is probably thinking I'm completely off my rocker for suggesting that Podville moms might hire someone to do their kids' bug fair project. Okay, maybe I haven't (yet) heard of anyone whose bug has been crafted by a local artist, but today one of my friends kindly warned me that I might need to step up my game a little bit for the First Grade Bug Fair.
We were having a very casual conversation (which mainly consisted of me cradling my head in my arms because I've procrastinated to the point of no return on my legal research) when she asked how my bug fair project is going. I told her my college roommate was in town this weekend and we helped my son sculpt an ant out of clay. I said, "it looks pretty decent, really. It has an unintentional swivel head and its legs can't support its body, but I think it's pretty good." She said, "I'm sure it's fine...what are you doing about the habitat?" I said, "what habitat? I don't remember anything about a habitat." And she said, "from what I understand, this bug fair is a big deal. People really break out all the craft supplies on this one. Last night we were using my glue-gun to make the roach wings..."
When someone says "glue-gun" anywhere in my presence my eyes glaze over and I go to that secret place inside where no one can find me. Same with staple-gun or double-sided tape or acrylic paint or virtually any word that refers to something they sell at Hobby Lobby, other than cake-baking supplies. For that matter, words describing cake-baking supplies are an extremely recent addition to my lexicon. I'm sorry, I am, but I am not "crafty." I am handy, in a Handy Manny sort of way: I can make my own crown molding and I can change my own tires and I'm good with a drill and I know how to put on a new doorknob. However, I can't sew and I can't make slipcovers for old furniture and I don't know how to darn (or even what darning *is) and I never, but NEVER, have occasion to use a glue-gun. I don't do pottery, either, or paint or scrapbooks or macrame, and I can't knit. I cannot understand WHY, for the love of God, I can get through 38 years of a productive life and some fairly extensive education without ever having to acquire any of these skills, and suddenly I am stumped by first grade. And here I was worried my math skills might become an issue, when my kids need help with schoolwork. No, nope, my math skills have not yet even been tested. Instead, it's my craft skills that are creating a Perfect Storm guaranteeing my son will be humiliated at the First Grade Bug Fair.
This afternoon I frantically scrambled through the paperwork for the Bug Fair project (because, all indications to the contrary, my reading comprehension skills are pretty decent) and it SAYS you have to craft a bug. It suggests, obliquely, that you might want to go overboard and create a full-on diorama or performance-art piece or "other" (use your creativity!!) to depict your bug's habitat, food preferences, and perhaps, social arrangement. For example, maybe you'd like to spin a honey-bee hive on your garage pottery wheel, in your free time? (Please make sure your child helps you! Our kid-created projects are THE BEST!!!)
According to my source, the kid-created projects are certainly NOT the best, but everyone pretends the BEST projects are, in fact, kid-created. Ah, what a sick, sick world we live in. She also told me I should block out that entire day on my calendar, as the bug fair is A Very Big Deal, and Not To Be Missed, and an occasion on which you could seriously emotionally scar your child if you didn't realize you should be there the entire day. Of course, I'll be standing proudly next to my ant project during the bug fair, like all the other mothers.
Now I'm kind of freaking out (it must be said) about the fact that the pipe cleaner legs can't support my clay ant. I mean, it really doesn't represent my best work. It was a collaborative project with my son, who actually IS in first grade. He thought the pipe cleaner legs would look great. They DO, in fact, look pretty good. They're just not functional. My son has never seen a First Grade Bug Fair. He has no idea what the basic level of professionalism is going to be, so discussing this with him is not going to be that helpful. The last thing I want to do is freak HIM out about the First Grade Bug Fair. So far, he's pretty happy with the ant.
The other thing about the ant is: it is about 800 times the size of a regular ant. Truthfully, I have no idea if it is 800x. My math skills aren't that great. Here's a better way to explain it: the ant is about the size of a Snickers bar (and roughly the same basic shape and color). It is, as my husband says, "anatomically correct," meaning it has a thorax and an abdomen and six legs and some mouth parts and antennae. But nevertheless, it's a really, really, really big ant. So if one were to craft, say, a pretend ant hill, by making some posterboard into a cone and then slathering it with Elmer's glue and covering it with playbox sand, exactly how much posterboard would be required, to make it to scale? I mean, really, ants aren't that meaningful in an "anty" way unless they're seen in a line with a bunch of other ants, climbing the anthill with bits of trash and food clasped in their little ant-hands (mouth parts, whatever). This is something that is NOT happening: the clay sculpting of additional ants.
I have some extra clay. For a few minutes I considered the possibility of sculpting some trash-ant-food, like a half-eaten apple or some pieces of a moldy sandwich. But that would require additional acrylic paint and quite a bit more natural artistic ability than either I or my son possess.
To be fair, it all began to go wrong with the pipe cleaners. Pipe cleaners are fuzzy and wiry, but not that strong. To look like appropriate legs, they had to be pretty long pieces of pipe-cleaner. It's not like you could have a 3 millimeter (a little metric for you math folks!) piece of fuzzy, wiry pipe-cleaner and call it a leg. It would look too fat and short and weird to be an ant leg. We used roughly half a pipe-cleaner for each leg, which meant they are each about 4 inches long (a little standard measurement, for you red-blooded Americans!). An ant with visibly fuzzy, 4 inch long legs is a BIG ant. Here's the thing though: pipe cleaners were on the recommended list of potential supplies for insect legs!! Someone should review that list. I'm just sayin'.
I'm quite far behind on my legal research. So far behind, in fact, that it is overdue and I'm not even close to finished and I have a huge headache just thinking about it. I drank EASILY ten cups of coffee today, and I still have more work to do. On top of that, tomorrow is Flashlight Day in Kindergarten and the Kindergarten Talent Show is approaching and our loan papers for the new house are overdue at the bank and the house is coming down to a busy, hectic finish, and my husband is out of town again and the youngest has croup and the tee-ball season is in full swing and my hair is falling out again in big clumps in the shower, which must mean something bad. I never did get that eye exam I've been needing to get, and I'm still driving around with all that Goodwill junk in the back of the van because I can't find the Goodwill truck ANYWHERE.
I ask you: WHERE am I going to find the energy to ("help my son") make an oversized anthill??? | | | Posted 4/29/2008 10:23 PM - 8 comments
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