Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Queen Up

I loathe Play-doh. Really. It's the creative bane of my existence. It's the constant reminder that I am not nearly as creative, nor as fun a mommy as I should be. When the princesses drag it out, my first thought isn't "oh goody! We get to have a fun and entertaining afternoon using our imaginations to create interesting pieces of art from this pliable dough!". Oh no. It's "oh dear lord, here we go again. How long is it going to take me to dig the dry play-doh out of the blasted ice cream maker thingy this time?" Yes, it's true. I'm somewhat embarrassed by this revelation.

Today, Princess #3 got into the Play-doh before I could stop her. And yes, I would have tried to re-direct her had she asked. I'm mean like that. But anyway, she managed to get the bag of Play-doh tools, the ice cream maker thingy and 4 tubs of Play-doh out and on the kitchen table before I saw her. I was stuck. She played happily by herself for about, oh 30 seconds, before she started calling me to help her. Resigned, I headed into the kitchen and prepared myself for my sentence of snake-rolling, shape cutting and dry Play-doh digging.

We played together for about 30 minutes before she was done and ready to move on to something else. Since cleaning up the Play-doh is another reason I hate the stuff, I suggested that she help me put everything away before finding something else to do. And this is the moment when enduring the whole thing became worth it: She looked at me, obviously considering my suggestion carefully. And then with big wide eyes and that impish grin that makes the one dimple on her right cheek appear, she asked if we could sing a song. It caught me a little off-guard, seeming to come out of nowhere. So when I repeated her request back to her, it totally melted this mama heart when she replied, "sing the queen up song?". Ah, thank you Sunday School.

And sing the Clean Up Song we did. Over and over and over (there are only, like, 2 phrases in the whole song) while we cheerfully rolled the Play-doh into mounds to stuff back into their tubs, dug the stray Play-doh out of the ice cream maker thingy before it could dry into a rock, and swept the floor to keep us from stepping on it later. With that sweet little 2 year old voice singing "queen up, queen up" ringing in my ears, it was the best part of my morning. I have a new found love for Play-doh. It's almost enough to make me drag all the Play-doh out again myself someday soon.

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