Stop me now. Please.

I'm going to confide in you now, and what I say will probably shock you: I am a craft whore. I know, I know, I'm totally playing against type. A stay-at-home-mom who drives a mini-van and is also into crafts? Stunning.

Sadly true. I knit. I scrapbook. I cross-stitch, and I don't even like the finished product here. I quilt. I decorate cakes on occasion. If macrame were still popular, I'd be making plant hangers as if there were no tomorrow. (I made the coolest beaded macrame belt when I was, like, seven. I wish I still had it.) Hell, you could probably convince me to crochet those terrifying ladies in dresses with the garish plastic doll heads that my grandma used to put over the spare roll of toilet paper.... Yeah, I'd do it.

It's genetic. I got it from my mom, who puts me to shame. She never buys anything. She sees something in a store, says dismissively, "Oh, I could make that," and then goes home and does it, about a thousand times better than anything you could buy. It's true. Ask my sister.

This crafty-gene is relevant right now because it's Halloween. I've spent uncounted hours this week making costumes. A mummy? No problem. Wall-E? Has spiraled out of all control. My arsenal this week has consisted of: spray paint (lots of spray paint), a hot glue gun, acrylic paints, an exacto knife, a sponge, a Sharpie pen, felt, styrofoam, wooden dowels, construction paper, masking tape, safety goggles, craft foam, a staple gun, trash bags, a big ol' cardboard box, black tea, a sewing machine, and-- this one kills me-- decoupage medium. I kid you not. And I'm not done yet. In fact, I suspect I need to make another trip to the local craft superstore.

So I must sign off now and continue my costume construction. If the kids aren't good, maybe I'll just hot-glue them to the walls. (Kidding.) (Kind of.)