You gave him the spoon.

Welcome to another adventure of the Spirited Toddler.

I had the grandiose idea that Francesco would enjoy playing with playdough while I prepared dinner. So I get him set up at the table with a place mat, I take all the playdough out of the containers and give him a plastic fork to use. I figured he would enjoy squishing the fork tine into the dough.

Well, I was wrong. He started his "help, help, help" while pointing at the silverware drawer. I attempt to decipher this request by picking up different plastic utensil for him to use. He
say no to all of them. I pull out a "fancy" spoon with scalloped edges that I thought would make cool impression in the dough. He still said no, and was getting visibly upset that I wasn't giving him what he wanted.

Finally, I get him to show me what he wants. He gets down from the chair, bring his stool over to the drawer, climbs up and pick up a plain old ordinary no special edges spoon. I take the opportunity to work on his vocabulary by telling him its a spoon and he proudly repeat "spoon".

So back to the table with a content toddler who begins to play with the spoon and the playdough. I smile to myself thinking this will keep him busy while I make dinner.

I am casually preparing dinner across the kitchen when it dawns on me that he is being way to quite even for Francesco. The only time he is that quite is when he is eating.

I turn to check on him and that is exactly what he is doing, eating. He is pleasantly scooping up the BLUE playdough and eating it with the plain old ordinary no special edges spoon.

Now, I know it is not toxic, but I still don't want him eating it. So I go over and try to get him to open his mouth, he clenches his teeth and squished the blue playdough through his teeth.

Lovely.

Needless to say he "ruined his appetite" and wouldn't eat his dinner. I just shook my head, he'll eat playdough but not a hot home cooked meal. Go figure.

From the mouth of babes:

Francesco counting "One, Two, Nine, Eight, Eighteen, Eleventeen"

Rock Candy

Decided to take Bubbie's outside this weekend, give him all new experience. He is really on the move and just loves to explore new things.

Went to the tennis courts near my in-laws. Bubbie's crawled all around the court, pulled up on the fence, had a grand old time.

After about an hour we left and walked home, a 5 minute walk at best. During the walk home my mother-in-law carried him. He fussed a few time, she gave him the Bink which he sucked on all the way home.

Got home and put him down on the rug to crawl around. Took the Bink away (trying to limit it now) and he spit out a rock. A small reddish-brown rock, identical to the ones around the outside of the tennis court fence.

I quickly checked for more and all was clear. I tried to act like it was all OK. I ran to the bathroom and secretly called my sister (gotta love the cell phone). She (mother of three, all still alive and kicking) assures me that if he swallowed one and it was smaller than a dime it will past with time. I am so glad she had all her kids before me.

So that was his first rock and most likely won't be his last.