I think the crafty gene skips a generation. Through my own informal research (which has been exhaustive if not scientifically vetted), I’ve determined that most of the people I know who love to create things out of other things do not end up with children who share their passion. But they almost always seem to have a grandparent who passed their love on down the line. I don’t know if it’s because children always try to define themselves in opposition to their parents, or if kids get so sick of the trappings of crafts that pile up everywhere in the creative process, or if they have never had to stretch their creative muscles because their parent already knows how to make whatever they want, or what, but I have seen this pattern play itself out time and again. My aunt lives for crafting (one of her world-famous sock monkeys was even featured on the “Ellen DeGeneres Show”), her daughters not so much. I come to life behind a sewing machine or crochet hook, but my mother, bless her heart, who has come through in a pinch when she has to, dreads the fabric and ya
rn domain. So, it seems we are either crafty or not. And some things will resonate with us or they won’t. Phoebe Gilman wrote a book about a freckle-nosed girl with a messy room and a penchant for making stuff. She called it The Wonderful Pigs of Jillian Jiggs, but I think it’s really about me.http://www.amazon.com/Wonderful-Pigs-Jillian-Jiggs/dp/0590413414
http://www.phoebegilman.com/home.html
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