I have always hated crafty moms. You know the type; they have arts & crafts drawers with labeled bins. They make their own non-toxic playdoh colored with vegetable dyes. They own aprons. With pockets.

Like all complicated resentments, this one is born of self-loathing and envy. Those crafty ladies fill their vacation days with projects. Their ideas of a good time with the kids don't begin and end with Disney. They don't gaze longingly at their novels or laptops and ache to be alone. Au contraire! They love love love paper mache. And the spell it papier måché. And their children are nicer and more intelligent than mine.

Those of you who follow me on Twitter might remember my diorama blues. It's vacation, and Abe loves to make dioramas. After days of blowing him off, I finally gave in. The results, obviously, are above.

Now here's the thing. It wasn't so bad. I mean, yes of course, it was stultifying. But in between making Sculpey animals I read the paper, drank my tea, and had a series of those adorable conversations that make motherhood worth the tedium. (Him: "Mooses have skinny legs, right? How do they balance?" Me: "They probably fall down a lot." Him: "They're klutzes, like daddy?" Me: "Precisely.")

Which leads me to my new life's motto. As some of you might know, Queen Victoria, mother of 9, ruler of Great Britain and the Raj for no less than 63 years, was supposed to have given this advice to the women of her realm, a technique for surviving the unwanted attentions of their husbands: Lie Back and Think of England. Ie., the realm needs your children, so suck it up and fuck your husbands. A quick Wiki search tells me that it was not in fact the Queen who supposedly uttered those words. The myth can be traced to a certain Lady Alice Hillingdon (1857-1940) who apparently was not overfond of her husband George, but even this is the stuff of urban legend.

Still, as a life's motto, I think it's a good one. In all ways. In the wake of my notorious I Love My Husband More Than My Children essay, when women would email and ask how it was I managed to salvage a romantic relationship with my husband while being a working mom of 4, I would often adopt a Dr. Ruth persona and give that advice. Not because I'm a prude, but because when you're tired and not interested in sex, if you just let him have the quickie he so desires, he'll be happy, you'll be happy, and in the end you'll find yourself enjoying it more than you might have thought you would.

It seems that this advice, so useful in maintaining the devotion of the male species, works equally well with children. In fact, it's even more apt. Because I like sex, but I hate arts & crafts, so I really do have to have a higher motivation to engage in the latter. England, needless-to-say, means nothing to me, except as a place where they don't buy my books. But I do love my children. And they do love projects. So there it is. I sucked it up, did the diorama, and you know what? It wasn't so bad. The whole thing lasted half an hour, less time than the tantrum would have, and now I have bragging rights forever. Don't complain kid. I made dioramas with you.