I don’t know why this is so hard for me to admit but it is. Maybe because every time I say I am going to make this or paint that, my boyfriend rolls his eyes and says “ok, baby, ok.” and I know he totally does not believe it and it annoys me. Even though he is probably right. I throw the word procrastinator around with no problem and would probably put it on my business card if my company would allow me. I like to keep people informed. If the deadline is Tuesday, they should know whatever it is will be the last thing I work on on Monday. I am better under pressure. Or at least that is the excuse I have used my whole life.

However, I hate being a half-finisher. I have a head full of ideas at all times and sometimes I even start these little ideas, but almost never finish them. My basement is full of half-started crafts. I have flower pots I painted yellow with the intention of painting something adorable on them and making them into end-of-the-year gifts for my girls’ teachers. They somehow ended up in the basement when I decided I didn’t want to do that anymore. Mainly because Cori’s teacher really irritates me, but that is for another day.

I have mini quilts started, I have scrapbooks started - one that was for my boyfriend of his last youth football season coaching. The season that ended last November. Olivia’s room is still half-painted and the ideas that I have to finish that room are bombarding my brain at all times. Last night I lay in bed thinking about the adorable pendants I would make her to hang on a short awkward wall, out of gorgeous fabric I would buy off Etsy. I don’t even know how to sew. I don’t even own a sewing machine.

These days I can’t even visit Etsy, because I see things and say, Oh I could do that. I think I will do that for so and so for Christmas or paint something similar for so and so for her birthday.

I have a box of thank you cards and a box of birthday cards for my new year’s resolution of sending out birthday cards to family this year. They are still unopened. In fact, the present I bought for my nephew for his birthday is still in a box in my trunk. His birthday was April 15th.

Now I have it in my head that I want to do a homemade only Christmas and make things for the family. That I am going to learn to knit and make scarves and paint beautiful pictures and make thoughtful scrapbooks.

I also tell myself I could craft more if I had a craft space - a space that is dedicated to the craft supplies I have strewn about the house in different colored and shaped totes. I have a walk-in closet that I don’t use so I thought maybe that would be nice and I could clean it out and line the shelves with cute contact paper and have cute little boxes I could label to organize all my things. Yeah, the farthest I got on that project was opening the door to the unused walk-in closet and saying “Eh - tomorrow.”

Maybe the worst was the Sparkbook idea. I got this from a homey type magazine. You take a normal everyday notebook and you decorate it adorably and then use it to keep all your ideas until you get around to doing them. I thought this was a great idea and promptly bought one for each of my girls and myself. I even decorated them. Quite adorably I might add. Not a page one has an idea written on it.

Granted on a daily basis, I work, go home, make supper, clean up supper, help with homework, give baths, do hair, read books, tuck in kids, try to fit in a load of laundry or mop a floor and there is not a whole lot of time for crafting. Oh, I try to make time for the boyfriend too. Oh and I volunteer two days a week. But why on earth do I start all these dagon projects if I know I won’t finish them? Why don’t I have the self control to step away from the glue guns and fabric swatches at Wal-mart?

Is there a half-finisher’s anonymous? If so, I need the number.

I have step one down pat. My name is Mandy and I am a half-finisher.

Thank you. Thankyouverymuch.