How I Lost My Zen Making A "Meditation Jar"

Or

There's Glitter In The Microwave?? ...I Can Explain.

Or

This Mother Of A D-I-Y Project Left Me In Need Of A Chemical Fume Hood. And Therapy.

Merritt is in the throes of the "Terrible Two-&-Two-Thirds" and during his time-outs he sometimes channels demons and then attempts to exorcise them by screaming. Louder than sonic booms. It is all very the opposite of calming, centered refocusing.

So when I read about these "meditation jars," I put aside my hatred of glitter and grabbed the supplies necessary to whip one up in the name of hopefully calming Merritt the eff down. Or at least turning his demons into shamans.

It should be noted that I've long been planted in the "loathing of glitter" camp. The stuff is pure evil. I'll see a fleck of it on my eyelid or my scalp and wonder when I was last exposed. Summer camp after fourth grade? How is it still on me? Why won't it come off? But I wasn't worried because this "meditation jar" comes off as a simple project. Crafty britches: not even required.

It would take a far more gifted writer to explain how terribly this turned out. It looks like a Mariah Carey movie and Chernobyl got together for arts-n-crafts time, but instead just pooped. I have never made anything so hideous. Beyond that, I used to have a pretty firm grip on science, but the glitter must have gone to my brain.

I should have known things weren't going to end well when the super hot water did nothing to the alter the composition of the glitter glue and my immediate fix was to just microwave the shit out of it. Did you know that the state of matter created when you microwave water, glitter, and glue for a minute and a half can immediately melt a spork? You're welcome.

And did you also know that when you pour that glimmering lava into the plastic Voss water bottle purchased specifically for this venture, that the perfect $1.69 cylinder will soften and crumble slightly, only remaining in some semblance of its original shape because it was there for the twenty minutes that you spent trying to get the right balance of water and glue and godforsaken glitter all while cursing in vegetable? FRIED OKRA. I bet you did.

It was at about this point in the ordeal that I began to wonder why I was even doing this. I may have forgotten the basics of exothermic reactions, but I was essentially assembling a glitter grenade for my angry toddler to hurl in a fit of anger. And I was astute enough to acknowledge such. But that was just moments before I completely spaced on exactly how gravity works and ended up inhaling 1,040 cubic feet of some major fumage.

I felt led to really glue the lid on well. If the kid is going to send a sparkle explosion my way, he's going to at least have to work on pulling the pin. I have no idea what amount of super glue I used, but it was enough to, upon flipping the lid over and screwing it on, immediately cover my hands and the bottle and the faucet handle. 

And that's where the fumes begin and things go a bit fuzzy. One hand was stuck to the counter, the other was attached to the bottle and the faucet. There is not enough Goo Gone in the world, y'all. And all I could do was alternate between quietly laughing and coughing, which, from the bathroom where Erin was, sounded like "I just chopped off my finger, but I don't want to wake up Merritt so I'm going to cry softly until you show up to rescue me." She was none too happy when she raced out and realized that I was just huffing super glue and, since now attached, had just become one of our kitchen's (finest) amenities.

But here's the thing.

When Merritt warranted his only time-out this afternoon, I told him we were going to do something different. I shook it up and then handed him that bedraggled tube of gaudiness, and told him to watch each fleck of glitter as it floated down and to take slow, calm breaths until they were all settled out.

And he didn't scream. Or engage in warfare. Nope. He sat there and watched. Mesmerized. And then he came quietly in the room where Erin and I sat and announced that he had taken "deep breahfs" and that he felt better.

WHAT?!?