Archive for January, 2009

How to make bread dough with a 19 month old

  1.  Pull a chair from the dining room into the kitchen for kiddo to stand on because she’s not tall enough to see the counter otherwise, and she gets heavy quickly.  
  2.  Go down to the basement to get whole wheat flour.  Let kiddo run around for 10 minutes until she’s willing to go back up stairs. 
  3. Put kiddo on chair and put three cups of water into a tupperware container.  Let kiddo slosh it around with a spoon.  Add 1 1/2 tablespoons each of yeast and salt as sloshing continues.      Photobucket
  4. Add one cup of whole wheat flour.  Wrestle spoon away from kiddo to stir it a little yourself.
  5. Look into flour canister and realize that you only have one cup of unbleached flour and you need 5 1/2 cups.  Wrestle spoon away from kiddo again, while trying to explain why you have to go to the store.  Chase kiddo around while trying to put her coat on.  Struggle to get kiddo into car. 
  6. Arrive at grocery store and get kiddo little cart to push.  See grapes on sale.  Feed grapes to kiddo (sorry for stealing, Thriftway).  Steer little cart toward flour.  Progress is slow.   We keep stopping for more grapes.  Purchase flour.  Drive home.                                     Photobucket
  7. Upon arrival at home, wash grapes, pretending that a ton weren’t already eaten before being washed.  Put kiddo back on chair and add 5 1/2 cups unbleached flour from newly purchased bag.  Let her stir for a minute.  Flour is now everywhere.  Grab another spoon to help with the stirring since it is getting nowhere fast.  Trade spoons because the new one is better.  Keep stirring since the dough isn’t quite as wet as it should be after sitting while you went to the store.  Take one spoon away, as the kiddo thinks that her hands will work better.1/30/09
  8.  Let kiddo eat a huge handful of dough.  Put dough away to rise and clean flour and dough off of every surface near you. Give kiddo some more grapes and set her free to play.

Toddler Ailment

I hate for my first blog entry to be a complaint. I really do, but this has been my week. One of the longest of my life. It has long been my contention that men (and specifically husbands) are horrible, whining messes when they are sick. For an illustration of this phenomenon, see “Man Cold.”  But this week, I learned that there are worse things than a man with a cold.  There is the toddler with a cold. 

Clara has been horrendous!  Yes, she has had a fever, hacking cough, and snotty nose.  But for the love of God, please stop whining, crying, and being completely unpredictable.  I’m done with it, thank you very much.  She has also been bored.  Very, very bored.  Mostly because I generally fill every day with activities, friends, and activities with friends.  There has been none of that this week.  We can’t give our friends this awful affliction.  So, we have been at home.  By ourselves.  

Monday was okay because she was very tired and we had to go grocery shopping.  It was actually the best grocery shopping ever because she was content to sit in the cart and shake things like macaroni boxes.  In the afternoon, we made valentines.  Tuesday was semi-okay because in the morning we had a dance party, then built a tent out of sheets, and then Daddy came home to entertain us.  Plus it snowed, so that was exciting.  

Wednesday, it all started to go downhill.  The boredom had reached a fever pitch.  Let me illustrate.  Clara learned a new game on Wednesday.  She only gets time outs for a) biting or b) hitting.  She knows this.  When she was not getting her way this week she started hitting me in the face.  Time out.  She learned quickly.  Soon, for entertainment she was hitting me, then running, giggling to the time out step.  No amount of explaining to her that hitting hurts Mommy would change this.  

Thursday.  Oh, Thursday.  Clara wanted things her way, or no way.  Screaming for no reason seemed to work.  Screaming, screaming, and screaming.  That was my Thursday morning.  We went to the mall to run and play.  We bought new shoes.  No, there was still screaming.  Yikes.  Then there was nap time.  A beautiful three hour nap time.  And it got sunny out.  And when she awoke, everything seemed better.  We went for a lovely walk (thank you, Lesley) and everything turned glorious.  Thank God that’s over.

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