I’m not going to brag, (okay maybe I am) but I was one of the earliest users of Pinterest. I heard about it from a decorating blog and was hooked immediately. I have stay hooked and if there were a twelve step program for weaning yourself off The Pinnning I would join.
It has sucked vast chunks of my time every single day. It has made me late for work, forgotten that dinner is cooking on the stove and been my drug of choice in the wee hours of the night when I can’t sleep.
Woe is me. Like whoa.
Once in awhile I’ll remember an outfit from Pinterest and head to the accessories section of Target for a multi-layered pearl necklace. Or was it the statement necklace? A chevron infinity scarf? Knock-off Michael Kors watch, anyone? A maxi skirt. That’s what I should get for my short stature because it’s the bomb diggety on Pinterest.
I have pinned recipes I never make, inspiring quotes I never read again, a dream cottage in the woods and a beach house, Yes, both. Is that too greedy? Paint colors (muted and bright for each house), flowers that could never grow in my current zone 5, pallet desks, pallet wine racks, pallet tables.
Enough with the pallets already.
In my nearly empty nest it fills the quiet and is my excuse for not doing legit things that are more self-improving than making a pretend life, and though I know I need to get off this fantasy cycle I just can’t seem to step away from the pin.
There are, however, cracks in the foundation that are beginning to show.
Gender reveal parties. Boy baby? Stick your hands in blue paint and make a hand print on your shirt. TAADAA!!!! Doesn’t that ruin your shirt? Doesn’t that prevent you from diving headfirst into the blue appetizers because your hands are full of paint? Wouldn’t your friends and family be just as excited if you, I don’t know, told them you were having a boy?
Bad crafts. A Mason jar hot glued to a thrift store candlestick is a Mason jar glued to a thrift store candlestick. It is not an apothecary jar. Ever.
Cupcakes. Unless you had a PhD. in baking you cannot make the frosting on a cupcake look like a flower. Nor should you because the first one that falls off the tray and face plants its pretty little flower petal face will cause you to have a nervous breakdown. A nervous breakdown is the uninvited guest at the gender reveal party.
Squats, planks, ab challenges, the thigh gap. This needs no explanation.
Casserole recipes. Casseroles do not photograph well. They always look like a hot mess, and even though they may be quite tasty, they tend to look like you cooked a fine dinner, put it through the blender and then threw it on the floor. There is no fan club for this, and if somebody asks for your casserole recipe it is because they are being polite which is different from sincere.
Marking the kids age through photos. I am not opposed to this. I actually wish I’d done it myself, but the one that jumped the shark was the idea that you buy a really big tshirt and write the year that Junior will graduate from college. Every year you take a photo of Junior wearing that shirt (because who would misplace a tshirt) and TAADAA, he starts to fill the thing out until there he is twenty two years later. Grinning, glazed and higher than a kite because his overbearing mother is forcing him to wear the same outfit he wore when he was three.
Since Easter is less than a week away I give you this teachable moment from Pinterest. Bake some cookies with the kids, examine each ingredient and think of a way to compare it to Jesus’ crucifixion. This might be kind of challenging, Mom, but taking a couple of swigs of that pure vanilla extract might get something moving upstairs. Put them in the oven and tape the oven door shut. This is The Maytag Tomb. In the morning open the oven door and TAADAA…..you have The Risen Jesus who has come back as a cookie.
Alleluia.
You’re welcome.
Now go tell it on the Pinterest Mountain.
