I'd love to post one of those pinterest winning style posts on picture perfect Christmas crafting only this is me and I can't craft.  We excel at the imperfect.  We're messy, noisy and a bit wobbly.   We balls things up.  A lot.  We're clumsy and impatient. 

So how about some real life imperfect crafting that's craptastic to but ours?

I'm not a huge fan on salt dough especially the color.  Mine always dries bubbly and curls up.  So we use White clay .

All you need is:

❄1 cup of bicarbonate Soda
❄1/2 cup of corn flour
❄3/4 cup of warm water

Optional extras:

❄Glitter
❄peppermint essence

The method is simple too. Mix all the ingredients together and heat in a pan over a medium heat until it starts to bubble and stick together. 

The process isn't immediate and goes through several stages before it's 'done' when it starts to look like play dough you can take it off the heat.

With our first batch we added irredescent glitter to give a snowy sparkle throughout the dough and some peppermint essence to give it a festive fragrance.  We added this part way through cooking though you could add it afterwards too.

The mixture will be really hot so you need to let it cool down.

Once it's cool down knead it until it's soft and pliable.  Roll out then get cutting.

You can dry them in the oven or leave them to air dry.

Firstly we made some pretty snowflakes which we pressed some random gem shapes we found lurking in the cupboard of crafty doom aka the craft graveyard.  These looked infinitely better in my head.  You need to push the gems in before you dry them.  If, like us, you even fail at this simple task you'll need glue. .. For when they're dry and half the gems fall off.

Next we did Christmas trees.

This time we pushed sequins in.  Once again many of these little buggers fell off and I had to glue them back on. Messily.  With much swearing.

Reindeer,  something else that looked awesome in my head.  Not so much by the time we'd finished with them.  I sprayed them with gold spray paint, nearly gassing us all in the process.  The glittery parts and drug addled eyes were added in haste with Moomin in a sling on my front somewhat obscuring my view whilst I multi tasked cooking Tea.  I can't even blame the result on Thing Two and Three Dude as all they did was cut out the shapes.

The ghost was going to be Olaf. Did I mention I'm artistically inept?  It was supposed to be The Dude's footprint.....

For what it's worth if you want to do footprints and handprints you need to roll the dough a lot thicker than I did.  Oops. However The Dude rather enjoyed standing on the kitchen table.

The Eagle eyed ones amongst you may have noticed handprints on the baking sheet.

I burned them.

To a crisp.

Black and smoking.

Shut up.

If you want a much classier (& successful ) tutorial on white clay ornaments do visit the wonderful  Imagination Tree . Theirs are beautiful.  I'm not envious at all.  Honest. 

Ours however were made with love (& profanity )

Craft Off.

I'm high from spray paint fumes and I can no longer feel my fingers.  Part of my garden looks like a drag queens handbag has vomited.  Panic has set in.  & my F key keeps failing, terribly irritating when your favourite word is uck.

For some reason totally unbeknownst to me I agreed to take part in a craft competition.  Yes, me.  The Craft inept. I can't sew, draw, knit, crochet, paper cut, paper fold or anything else remotely creative.  I wish I could, I dream of it yet I appear to not possess the craft gene.  Worse still, there are only thirty entrants, 29 of which will be craft orientated, possibly with extra craft chromosomes.  Where was my better judgement and sanity when I needed it?  What is it we were told when children 'Just say no' (unless you're asked to tidy your room.  Saying no to that is detrimental to your health)  I have an abundance of ideas, it's the execution that fails me.  My attempts at anything remotely craft like would even be ridiculed by preschoolers.

Woe and behold, a huge hamper of craft delights was delivered to my door, then it hit me.  I have to make something out of all this.  Arse.

I brain stormed.  I Googled.  I entered  into a Pinterest delirium. I attempted three things, threw six tantrums and failed dismally.

Tick Tock Tick Tock.

Time is a ticking.

Hence why I can no longer feel my fingers and I'm slightly squiffy from fumes.

Worry not, all shall be revealed.  Not long now and i'll post it up on the blog and you can ridicule me at your own leisure whilst I run a bath of Gin and go under.

Let it snow, Let it snow, Let it snow

By heck it's been frightfully cold here, cold as in the heating is on 24/7 (sorry Dad) yet as much as the cold, quite literally, pains me I perversely much prefer the cold to the hot, I always have been somewhat of a Winter Girl at heart.  However, there is one condition to me tolerating the cold and that would be snow.  Yes i'm one of those people that rather then flail in mad hysterical panic at the mere thought of it, I actually revel in it.  There's a serenity in snow, it is quite simply beautiful. The mere thought of it is uplifting. So imagine my recent disgust where the cold brought with it nipples like bullets, blue toes and visible breaths that make everyone from behind look like smokers yet no bloody snow.  In the recent words of The Toddler 'Not Fair.'  However, Mother Nature has indeed redeemed herself as The Gods have indeed let it snow! The Met Office predicted rubbish old sleet yet outside the window is a flurry of precious white flakes of snow.  Hoorah!  I must confess I did a little dance and some shrieks of utter glee because IT'S SNOWING!. However, I am without doubt that it won't last and within an hour or two it will resort to mere sleet.  Pissflaps.

Yet despite the brain freezing weather I'm still afflicted with shoeitis and am longfully fawning over pretty shoes that I can neither afford nor walk in and are most absurdly impractical for winter anyway, yet one can't help but sigh and perve over the shininess.  At least I appear to have finally broken in the boots of doom that fingers crossed appear to no longer be yapping and snapping at my heels like an irate intoxicated Yorkshire Terrier.

For once i'm feeling uncharacteristically smug to some extent as my usually unheard of planning has indeed beaten the weather with The Toddler possessing a winter coat, a polar fleece all in one and fluffy lined snow boots.  Blimey how about that for prepared?  I'm rather naively hoping that Thing Two's waterproof dungas will serve us yet another year and indeed Thing One's water proof trousers whilst I ignore the ridiculously obvious fact that the little blighters have grown, again. I may have down a shot of something wicked to numb that little voice in my head that squeals like a  girl with sheer petrification at the thought of kitting The Spawn out for Winter (poor Thing Two must have shit blood like me for she too is terribly sensitive to the cold) and have an internal argument with myself in order to justify some spending.  Thankfully in true MamaUndone fashion, I can remain slatternly and do it from the uncomfort of my own decrepid  sofa where it's at least warm and fire up ye old browser to E-Outdoor and try dreadfully hard to silence my own 'But what about me? I want a nifty North Face Coat tooooooo!' (yes I absolutely am that whiney) As it is, what with Christmas, winter clothing and you know that whole food thing i'll end up having to sneakily  liberate the pocket hand warmers bought as an intended gift for The Mother which are fabulously and disgustingly kitsch.  One day i'll learn to knit or crochet and finally own a pair of those gorgeous wrist warmers (with fold over mits) in a delicious autumnal rainbow (think Girasol Earthy Rainbow for fellow babywearing geeks) You know the kind, all those dastardly crafty people who seem to make, not that the people are dastardly they're rather lovely, i'm just a jealous old twunt who is craft inept.

Speaking of craft,  I still need to make a matching tutu for Thing Two's doll in time for christmas.

Oh no.  Who stole the snow?  It's stopped.  My smile has drooped all the way into my tomato soup.

Baby it's cold outside...

I've survived the weekend so far, just.  However, the awful guilt of being very un enid blytonesque saw me making The Toddler a fresh batch of play dough today, whilst I poked about at the dirty pots seeing how many I could get away with not doing.  All was well, his face was one of utter delight as we sat and laughed together, splatting play dough balls  with our hands (after he made me create said balls) we were a poster advert for good mothers.com until The Toddler decided to wander round the kitchen depositing lumps of play dough that i'd lovingly prepared by hand all around the sodding kitchen and when I had the audacity to reprimand him he then decided to lob them, everywhere. Git.

Needless to say I got rather cross and he indeed got rather crosser before he resorted to the age old art of sulking seeing as I dared to turn the lifeline oops I mean television off. Yet to think it as only this morning when he beamed into my eyes with a dazzling smile and called me 'best friend'.

I should learn, I've documented enough disasters on here of when I try to be a proactive at play mum, yet sit me down on the sofa with my life support (aka my phone) and he happily potters around playing a multitude of complex and enchanting games, occasionally stopping to watch a bit if tele or to have a boobie snack perfectly happy as we chat.

Having no idea as to when to expect thee return of The Spawn I didn't even try and get The Toddler to nap today and thus i'm frightfully knackered and am decidedly dreading bedtime tonight as I fear with The Husband still en route home from Austria Things One & Two will concoct a whole repertoire of ailments to prolong the inevitable act of going to sleep.  Joy.  

I'm feeling especially more relaxed on The Christmas Shopping front with the majority of The Husbands presents bought, all of The Spawns 'main' presents (however still an absurdly large amount of smaller gifts to get) I've even bought The Mothers gifts so that just leaves The Nephews, The Brother and The Father as well as the beloved Outlaws. ...& breath.

I'm feeling especially smug as I managed to buy a Didicar for a bargainous price thanks to an offer, some credit and the discount code 20MUMSNE15 (shhh, you can thank me later)  It shamefully wasn't even on the list but I couldn't resist, however this does mean Things One & Two may have to actually share, oh bollocks.  What a genius plan that was.

In a fit of uncharacteristic efficiency I've managed to find and order Thing Two's outfit for The Wedding in January.  

I've even done some laundry today, mayhaps i'm ill?  That would explain it.

Yet to top it all of,  yours truly the absolute craft inept made (yes made) one of Thing Two's presents last night.  She wants to be a ballerina so having bought a cheap pink leotard I've made her a tutu to go with it.  Calm down, relax, it was a no sew one, i'm still me.

So Santa Baby, since I've been an awfully good girl, please pretty please could I have a shiny new camera? If you agree i'll even give you the antidote to the poison in the milk you just drank.  It's not that i'm mean, i'm just terribly desperate. I've been positively lusting after a DSLR for many many years now and I'm sure The Elves won't care too much if you get it from Jessops, you could probably even get some cashback too to spend on Mrs Claus.

Oh bumflaps.  The Spawn are going a tad mental, with The Toddler sat in Thing Two's doll pram as she zooms round the room pushing him whilst Thing One is being a general pissant.  I've been pretending not to notice but I guess I really should referee (aka issue some bollockings) before it all gets out of hand ...

Damn.  Too late.  Boobies to the rescue.