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The Thing About Hama Beads…

As you know I have a thing about glitter.  I have also recently developed a ‘thing’ about Hama beads  (known in our house as Hamas beads which in itself creates some interesting questions “What’s Hamas Mummy?”  ”Er, ask your father.”).   Little cylinders of brightly coloured plastic that you have to have excellent vision and superb hand/eye coordination to place perfectly on little plastic spikes on boards in different shapes, from hearts to circles, to dogs and cats.  Once that laborious process is complete you have to iron it all so it sort of melts together and then you have a wonderful memento of your child’s creativity.

The girls have been known to make lots of lovely things with them.  Mostly with Other People.  Not with me, with me they sit for about 5 milliseconds, throw most of them on the floor then start throwing them at each other. Hama beads is a great activity for people who don’t have to hoover up afterwards.

I have found enough Hama beads on the floor of our house to build a small house, add to that the glitter I find and the stray, hardened bits of playdoh and I could decorate my small house.  But I don’t do this I hoover it all up in a rather jubilant display of ‘told you so’.  (“Whatever you drop on the floor will be hoovered girls.”)

I am not all bad. I do sit and ‘do’ Hama beads with them (occasionally they’ll last for about 5 minutes).  I have made several drinks coasters, wall hangings and I’m considering a ‘dingily dangly’ for the car. I rather fancy a flower or perhaps some Hama dice. In fact this morning as I sat there at 6am doing just that it occurred to me that Hama beads are the type of thing one might find in a psychiatric institution for people recovering from a nervous breakdown.  I wonder if perhaps doing endless Hama beads could prevent this from actually happening to me. It’s a theory I’m willing to try.

It could be me

Yesterday afternoon, just before the kids had supper Eliza was watching some TV and Tilly was getting a space rocket ready for her toys.  She spent a good 1/2 hour dressing them in ‘astronaut’ clothes, or the dirty washing sitting in front of the washing machine to you and me, she then found an old kitchen roll unwrapped the remaining paper and that became the fire from the rocket ship.  She was engrossed.  She was using her (ample) imagination and she was perfectly happy to be in her own little world.

As I sat and watched her I realised that I could actually ditch the Hama beads forever and she might not notice.  In fact maybe we could do away with all toys and live a life of old loo rolls and dirty washing.  I was warming to my theory today, when, after a rather long bike ride in the woods (complete with stabilisers), the girls decided to play with play-doh and Moon Dough (God help me).  I joined in, of course, there’s something deeply satisfying about making a perfect Dolphin with Moon Dough, and we were all having fun.

Perhaps the Hama beads, Moon Dough, Play-doh and other artificial creations that generally bring me out in hives can stay. Maybe they are all that stands between me and the local institution.

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Comments

  1. I haven’t heard of Hama beads, but have made a mental note to avoid them…I hope it doesn’t have nasty repercussions!

  2. I love the idea of the engrossing repetition of the Hama beads – almost as much as being a fly on the wall to hear the explanation of Hamas to kiddies! But I fear I stay well away from beads, as Mini-G puts whatever is on the floor into his mouth before I’ve even gotten near the Hoover!

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