Archives for posts with tag: Attachment parenting

I’m More Like Michaelangelo From the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles…

I think Worm is getting tired of his toys.  We rotate them, but he may have already caught on to our evil toy recycling scheme.  We’re going to try something new.  Worm currently plays with plastic toys that are pre-designed, pre-made and pre-packaged.  Logically, the next creative step for Worm’s brain is to make something out of nothing.  To offer a truly plastic experience for him, I decided to make some good old-fashioned natural play dough!  This way, he can mold something out of the depths of his little mind…mu hu ha ha ha!

So a Train Conductor and Play Dough Walk Into a Bar…

I found a great recipe for play dough online at Skip To My Lou.  It takes only 15 minutes to make.  If you are married to a chef like I am, you may already have these ingredients in your kitchen.  Otherwise, find all this stuff in the cooking aisle of your supermarket:

  • 1 cup flour
  • 1 cup warm water
  • 2 tsp cream of tartar  (It’s not the same as tartar sauce.  Trust me on this!)  Substitute 2 tsp of lemon juice or vinegar if you don’t have cream of tartar!
  • 1/4 cup salt
  • 1 tsp oil
  • Food coloring

Mix everything together except the food coloring!  Toss it into a small pot.  The consistency should be like thick coughed up phlegm.

Turn stove heat to medium.  Stir continuously.  (Come on, use a little muscle!  Work up a sweat!)  The mixture should start turning sticky on the bottom of the pot.  It will continue to get more and more clumpy.  (This is the magic of cream of tartar.  Tartar sauce will not do this, although it will add more flavor.)

You can stop stirring when you’ve got a huge lump of dough.  It should now look like caucasian Play-doh of Germanic descent.  (I’m trying to be politically correct here.)

Turn off heat.  Let the play dough cool.

Grab the play dough and feel the consistency.  If it falls apart too easily, add a few drops of oil and massage it into the dough.  (If you massage too roughly, the dough may wince in pain.)

Now you’ve got a hunk of dough the size of a genetically modified naval orange.

You’ve got a few choices here.  You can be uber-creative and break up the play dough into pieces and add different food colorings.  Or you could be a lazy good-for-nothing parent and give your child the dough as is.

Today, I opted to be the minimum requirements parent.  One that does just enough to still be called a ‘Dad’.  I added 30 drops of blue liquid food coloring to the dough ball before me and called it a day.

Can I Feed Some To The Puppies?

And yes, you can eat it.  It won’t kill you…in small doses.

Store it in an airtight container.  If there’s hair growing out of it, throw it away.

The Worm has jealousy in his little body.  The new emotion must have wired itself into his brain last night.  Because today he wants to be the object of my affection…but only when Duncan and I are having our Daddy-Dunkie time.  And if I don’t respond to Worm immediately, I am made to suffer some ear-splitting and slimy consequences.  (Can you say spoiled attachment parenting?)

Back in the day (or 8 months ago), Worm was easy to care for:  feed, change, sleep, and occasionally bathe.  No talking back, no temper tantrums, no whining.  He’d just lay back and enjoy the view from whatever surface we’d Velcro his onesie to.  Those days are gone.  He’s heavily interacting with the environment now and picking up new tricks everywhere.  (It seems his brain is developing so quickly that I swear he’s figured out how to work his baby mind meld on me, even through my force shield!)  Where else would he learn about the world, but by watching his furry brothers!

Duncan and Frodo are Worm’s older siblings.  It’s only natural that he thinks he’s a dog too.  (Maybe I could fatten him up by feeding him from the dog bowl…hmm.)  And as the youngest one in the family, he picks up some habits and tricks from his hairy bros.  The best trick Worm has learned is growling.  (It’s useful for when I’m at the supermarket and people want to hold Gavin.  I make him growl and let the would-be-handler know that he hasn’t had his shots yet.)  The worst trick is the jealous whining.  (Thanks Duncan.)  Worm’s realized that whining lands you in the lap and affections of daddy.  In our house, the squeaky wheel gets a lot of grease!

60% of the Time, It Works Every Time!

Since my type-A personality has me multitasking on just about everything, I also try to multitask family fun time.  (Do you see anything wrong with that?)  100% utilization of my arms is important to maximizing my distribution of entertainment to the family.  For instance, during play time I’ll try to distract Worm in his play area for about 10 minutes with one hand.  With the other hand, I’ll pet Duncan.  Or, I’ll play tug-of-war with Duncan on one arm, while holding Worm in the other.  (I’ll need to get fitted with a third arm when the next child comes.)  If I wiggle my arms just right, there’s amusement for the entire family.

But, the second Worm feels like Duncan is getting more attention than he, out comes the jealous fits!

If I don’t answer the call of the little wildman, the volume increases and the tears fall freely.  Only after I’ve transfixed my full attention on Gavin, do the sprinklers stop.

Just wait until we decide to have another kid, Worm.  Your world (and mine) will completely shatter unless I can figure out how to keep everyone happy!  (Maybe cloning myself will become an option by then.)

Gavin – 11; Daddy – 5

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