Pinterest Fail (yeah thanks.)

I'm thankful for failure.  Humbling failure.  There is nothing like failure to remind you that easy things aren't always easy.  I have a way of underestimating the skill, time, and resources needed for a project.  Failure (if you are really willing to look at it, square in its ugly face) also acts as a cautionary tale, a guideline for how not to do it. 

I'm not always willing to stare at my failure and analyze my missteps.  I would prefer to keep moving forward, no looking back. My recent Pinterest Fail I threw in the garbage and didn't tell anyone.  I was trying to make the cute DIY tank top from an old t-shirt (Source: Rabbit Food For My Bunny Teeth). 

Cute right?  That's not the one I made.  The one I made and put in the garbage can looked like a mock turtleneck.  I'm the only person in the world who sets out to make a cute tank from a t-shirt and manages to make a (lopsided) turtleneck.  FAIL.

I never examined the reason I failed at that Pinterest project.  Maybe I wouldn't have failed again if I had actually considered why my tank top failed.  But I didn't, so when I set out to make these pretty yarn balls (Source: Hostess with the Mostess) for my mother-in-law's birthday party.....

I ended up with this utter failure!

During the 24-hour drying period my balloons exploded at random intervals.  Do you know what happens when a balloon covered with glue and gunk explodes?  It sounds like a gunshot AND the gunk tends to fly all over the place.  Thank goodness I read the instructions and set the project up outside!  That was about the only thing I did right.  

I overinflated the balloons so the stress and weight of the yarn and gunk was too much.  I also attempted to accomplish this project while dealing with my littles.  Parenting with your hands covered in glue and yarn isn't really parenting.  It's screaming from the garage and then running down the street trying to grab your child without  using your hands. * parenting fail and crafting fail.  

The balloons didn't start popping until later that night.  And I just laughed.  There was nothing to do but laugh.  It was a ridiculous failure and I owned it.  I knew I had messed up.  I texted my sister-in-law and she laughed too.

This is me.  Perfectly imperfect and grateful for that.