Surprisingly, some of our days in La Paz are just as delightfully mundane as they are at home in Atlanta. Today was one of those days when we didn’t leave the house as it was raining off and on all day, and sometimes we just need time to recharge. In addition to other lessons, the children spent time on their handicrafts.

While I regret not preparing many other things for this trip, I did do a great job organizing and prepping our handicraft work (see travel sewing kits in photo). This year, we’re working on sewing, and today the kids completed tote bags that they’ve been working on since we arrived. Armed with the old-school idea that even the youngest among us can sew, I guided my preschooler on his project while the girls worked mostly independently.

I’m committed to spreading the entire feast of a Charlotte Mason education, but I have to admit that I am secretly partial to the handicrafts. I love the practical nature of the kids learning to do something useful with their hands – something that can brighten the days of the recipients of their work while also helping their future households. The art of being able to “do stuff” is slowly dying, and I appreicate that our family can hold on to a little bit of the nostalgic tasks that came as second-nature to our my grandparents and those before them.

But even with the loveliness of our time spent on handicrafts each week, the open-endedness of the activity also fuels an underlying tension between what my kids value and what I want them to create, what they want vs. what I want them to want. I very much believe that their education is their own, and while I am an intensely-involved guide, I don’t force things upon them. And thoughI try to remain true to this goal, I sometimes overstep by expressing my displeasure with what is rightfully their decision to make.

In this instance, it was the fabric chosen for the tote bags. We stopped by JoAnn Fabrics before we left to pick up what we’d need to complete all of our projects during our trip, and there were just under 4 billion lovely fabrics that I totally approved of. But my 8-year-old managed to hone in on and select all 7 of the most irritating fabrics available. After I flat-out refused to buy some of the gaudiest ones, we semi-settled on the Barbie fabric you see pictured here.

What’s my issue with Barbie, you ask?

Well, my issue is technically not with Barbie but more with the fact that (1) I think sewing projects done with non-commercial fabrics have greater longevity and are sweeter and cuter for the children to work with. So much of what we own is corny little cartoonish junk, so when the kids are creating something from scratch, I just wish that they’d make something lovely and not gimmicky.  And (2) It annoys me to no end that the Barbie fabric doesn’t feature any brown Barbie figures. I don’t know whether I’m more irritated that my family keeps running into this issue with everything from bedding to birthday party decor to books or that my daughter continues to salivate over images of people (pretend or not) that don’t represent who she is.

I guess it’s really both.

I want manufacturers to consider that it’s unhealthy for brown children to always have to choose between white and nothing, and I want my daughter to not crave or identify with so many images that don’t validate her unique beauty. But before I get off on too much of a tangent…

I didn’t like the Barbie fabric (still don’t), but it’s not my bag. I thought she should pick a matching thread color rather than a contrasting one, but it’s not my bag. I think the shoulder strap should be shorter so as not to impede her walking when she’s using it, but it’s not my bag. I only scheduled 20 minutes for them to sew this morning, and I thought they should savor the process by doing a little each time, but they chose to scarf the remainder of the project down during their Afternoon Occupations, and again, that is within their purview.

So at the end of the day, handicrafts are as much a lesson for me as for the children. That part of our school day represents the best and the worst of my relationship to their education – that of a wise guide who is devoted to offering every opportunity for them to grab hold of the knowledge of God, man, and the universe; and a controlling, impatient mother who wants to interfere with the same. Their biggest cheerleader and their most-vocal detractor, all in one. My only saving grace is that their future is not in my hands, but His.