File this under things that I do ostensibly for my son, about which he does not give two hoots and a wet diaper. Along with stocking his nursery with a veritable menagerie of stuffed animals, I spent the last few weeks of my pregnancy working on this “bead painting”. Something in the vein of those namesake tchochkes you might find in airport gift shops, which seem like a cute idea at the time, and kind of pointless thereafter. In the end, it took me nearly three months to finish it, time not being in plentiful supply these days.
However, once I started I was curious to see how it would look finished, so I kept going. Plus, beading is an engrossing exercise that doesn’t require a great deal of thinking (once the pattern is set), similar but preferable to watching endless re-runs of Real Housewives. The plan now is to frame it somehow and then hang it … somewhere. Probably in the nursery. Now, while the kid is still too young to object to mom’s decor choices.

But hey, it could be worse. At least, the poor kid won’t have to suffer any painful sartorial moments thanks to hideous, itchy mom-made sweaters or scarves.

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