The kids and I recently made sidewalk chalk.

I know. Such ambition chalks shocks even me.

You see, I hate crafts. Always have. And despite my best efforts to be THAT mom, I always will.

I grew up with a domestic goddess mother so renowned that she opened the most acclaimed English tea rooms and gift shops in the city. Such domesticity must have skipped a generation because my daughter Hadley shares my mom’s talent. In an effort to support her ambitions, I recently sent her to art camp.

You know. So I wouldn’t have to do it with her.

Hadley had her birthday late-May and when people asked me what to buy, I cheerfully replied, “Get her anything to do with crafts.” This plan completely flopped because I forgot to include the important provision that “No parental involvement should be required.”

Every single one of her projects requires major supervision.

I’m ashamed to admit her beloved presents have sat all summer until one morning, I waxed ambitious. “Let’s make sidewalk chalk!” I proclaimed, pointing to her kit. “Really?” Hadley suspiciously queried, looking like the world must be coming to an end for me to be volunteering my services.

How tough could it be? The kit contained colorful powders and all we had to do was add water, shake the bottle and pour it into some cute butterfly-shaped molds.

Evidently, I can’t even handle just-add-water directions.

Part of the problem is Hadley, being an artist, wanted to have a kaleidoscope of colors within each mold. This would have been fine except the solution was fast-drying and if not poured immediately, it would become lumpy.

We found that out the hard way with Yellow.

That was the beginning of the end.

I suggested she add some more water to the bottle, put the lid on it and shake it up again. This may have been a seamless solution if she had adequately screwed the lid on.

Yellow paint shot all over the table, Hadley’s face and the ground.

I rushed her inside to cleanup but by the time she had returned, the other bottles had dried up and we were in the same predicament as before. A frenzy followed as we tried to revive the other colors.

In the end, we looked like a rainbow threw up on us but miraculously, THE END RESULT WAS ACTUAL SIDEWALK CHALK.

You know. The same stuff we could have bought at the Dollar Store.

© Crazy Bloggin’ Canuck–A Denver Mom’s Blog

A good friend recently criticized my slothful blogging practices. I did not deny it. We just started a two-week-long swimming session and following that, our summer travels begin.

I was on a conference call last week. As we waited for the other parties to join us, another lady and I made smalltalk. She asked if my family was going anywhere for the summer.

I divulged we were going to glorious Crested Butte, on an inglorious camping trip, on a mommy-daughter weekend in Puerto Rico, to Utah to see the grandparents (hopefully), topped off by the Outer Banks at the end of August.

After rattling off my list I turned the question back at her, to which there was a long pause and she replied, “I’m not going anywhere. I don’t have any vacation time left.”

I would hate me, too.

Anyhew, back to my assignment at hand. My form of repentance for past and future blogging indiscretions is to write every day this week about what is going on with each member of our family. I will wrap it up on Friday with a much-anticipated announcement about the newest member to join the Johnson clan. Today’s spotlight is on The Hurricane.

Hadley

Hadley is an aspiring artist.

And no, she does not get it from my stick-figure inspirations.

When she was three, there was a groundbreaking at her new preschool and she drew this picture of the balloon arch.

Her teachers raved the illustration was indicative of a child well beyond her years.

Last week, was her dream come true: she participated in a week-long art camp at school. She was introduced to clay, watercolors, painting and a lot of crafty stuff that simply makes me want to throw up.

It was the best $120 I ever spent.

Possibly my favorite creation was a clay heart. As I strained to ask what was the picture in the middle, she said it was her…looking angry.

And so the embittered, man-hating years begin.

Stay tuned tomorrow for Bode’s spotlight, which includes why he needs his man-hating sister.

© Crazy Bloggin’ Canuck–A Denver Mom’s Blog

Like many of you, summer is gloriously busy with activities and vacations so posting will be more sporadic. What have we been doing?

We went to Learning How to Train Your Dragon with about 15 of our closest friends and then to Elitch Gardens with our Besties.

We did a staycation in nearby Golden, which ranks right up there as one of our favorite trips.

Contributing factors? Hadley’s new ambition to become a “Chick Mom,” barreling down the Alpine Slide with Uncle Chris at Heritage Square, fighting over trains at the Colorado Railroad Museum, riding the free horse-drawn carriage at the First Friday Street Fair, devouring the Golden Farmer’s Market’s mini-doughnuts, playing Frogger on the Clear Creek bike path and so much more in the post that follows.

Clarification: My children are making those faces because the sun was in their eyes. Or maybe I really do smell that badly.

Parties, parties, parties. Every year, our neighbors hold an amazing birthday bash for their three boys (all born in May). From their flown-in-from-California rib-eye hamburgers and steaks to the veritable waterpark in their backyard, this is the not-to-be-missed event of the season.

At one point, two 7-year-old boys with water guns and play swords approached me.

“Is that your daughter over there?” they accusingly queried, gesturing to Hadley.

“That depends. What has she done now?”

“She called us a bad name.”

Now, I don’t know about you but I was interested to hear what that might be. Hadley has a pretty limited vocabulary as it pertains to insults and going up against two heavily-armed older boys takes guts.

“That’s terrible, boys. What did she call you?”

“She called us babies.”

It was one of the proudest moments in my life.

© Crazy Bloggin’ Canuck–A Denver Mom’s Blog