What can I say? I had a weak moment. Normally, I'm so smug about how well O. plays with play doh -- "Oh, I don't mind it, he's really good about not making a mess. I only open one at a time for him. It's one thing he'll really sit and do all on his own." And for the most part, that is true. He knows it all needs to go back in the container with the lid on, or it gets dried out. He loves to make "dinosaur bones" or "animal bones." This means pressing small plastic toys into the dough to make impressions, like fossils, and does involve a lot of "Mom, come here and look at this!" but is generally not too time or attention intensive on my part.
N, lately, has even gotten good at sitting at the small table and mooshing some of it up for a few minutes before eating it. I just love scraping it off of the roof of her mouth. "Nope, the paper towel's still orange, baby, open up again." She's much less good about not making a mess, and I find myself pulling a Kate Gosselin, chasing her out of the kitchen with a paper towel, sweeping up crumbs from the floor in her wake.
But today, I remembered that O. had gotten a candy cane shaped container of small playdoh containers in one of his stockings, and opened it up for him. The dough in one container was not enough for the dinosaur he wanted, so I threw caution to the wind, opened a couple up for him, and said "You can go ahead and mix up some colors of this kind if you want."
He looked at me with this face of amazement, like he couldn't believe such a thing was possible. And glop together black, yellow, and green into a disgusting, camouflage looking lump.
I tried to tell him that we'd only be doing this with just these little ones. But I fear now that I've unleashed the mixing beast, there's no caging it again. I'm trying not to feel sick about it.
Other things we've "accomplished" this week:
- Mopping the floor, after putting it off every day for no less than three weeks in a row. (this may explain the Kate Gosselin factor)
- Actually sticking to my plan to grocery shop with actual recipes in mind, even though my grocery run was amidst the "get to the store for milk and bread before the white death comes" panic.
- A batch of chocolate chip cookies made from scratch
- An invented berry tart recipe
- Two recipes from Real Simple magazine attempted: one successful, one not. Shredded pork tacos in the slow cooker gets high marks, "lightened" chicken pot pie not so much. Oh, and stuffed pepper recipe made from a page I retrieved from my stack of ripped out magazine pages was also good.
- Laundry, to the point that there may not actually be any dirty clothes in this house. Lots in baskets not put away, but all CLEAN. Amazing.
- Lots of towers built from cardboard blocks, not all of them knocked down prematurely by N.
- Half a cucumber sliced on O's request for a "vegetable" to eat. I assumed I'd be throwing it all in the trash, but what am I going to do, say no, you can't have a vegetable? He and N. actually downed at least four slices dipped in "white dressing!"
- N. slept until at least 4:30 AM unattended three of the last four nights.
- Three days in a row, I walked for at least twenty minutes on the treadmill. Those who know me well know just how impressive this is. New motivation: episodes of My So Called Life on DVD that I've had for over a year now, but somehow haven't found the time to watch.
- Several games of CandyLand that did not take an hour to complete.
- N. said "Mama" very appropriately and clearly at bedtime tonight when I pointed to myself and said "Who's this?"
- Semi-successful recovery from a tantrum over whether or not O. could watch Lightning McQueen before lunch: less than a half hour, and only one trip to the naughty step.
- Coughs that seem like they may result in lung loss seem to be becoming restricted to the hour or so after waking.
- Perhaps three, maybe four, of the 18 or so meals/snacks I prepared were consumed.