Yes, it’s every mother’s favorite type of project: Something that includes hundreds of tiny pieces. Perler beads. 

Somehow I have managed to avoid these little monsters for years. They fall into the same category as “Toddlers with Fruit” in my book i.e. the fun stage of life when your three-year-old asks for a banana and then promptly has a meltdown because you peeled it… or didn’t peel it, or they peeled it and saints preserve us it broke in half. Perler beads are similar in that they are prone to all kinds of catastrophe, someone bumps the table, a sibling jostles an elbow, or they don’t iron right, and holy Batman the drama and meltdowns ensue. The only difference is that Perler beads don’t contain important nutrients like potassium so at least you don’t have to feel guilty if you refuse to stock them in the house.  

It’s my own fault really. I was hoisted on my own petard. One of my children who shall remain nameless, was making future plans to be an electrician and I took the opportunity to mention, and encourage oh-so-kindly, that he ought to work on his fine motor skills if he wanted to go into a profession that is basically the art of harnessing magic traveling in various amounts of strengths (and speeds) in waves across various intricate mediums. Convince me I’m wrong.  

And that is how I found myself the proud owner of an 1100-piece bag of Perler beads. I mean we must work on said fine motor skills. And of course he remembers the activity that most helped his fine motor skills was the few times I allowed Perler beads into the house. And he would have no problem sitting still and focusing for long periods if only he had something like Perler beads to work on. The thing is, he’s right. They did really help his fine motor skills last time. And he did super focus. Bah. 

But in the end, we compromised. We’re wrapping up our unit study on human anatomy right now, so I figured if we’re going to do this, we’re going to gosh-darn do it right with a (mostly) accurate anatomical heart made entirely out of Perler beads. 

I gift you with the tutorial/pattern/worksheet below. You’re welcome…er… I’m sorry. Pass on my apologies to your vacuum cleaner.