Today I reassembled the play kitchen and Alexander has been in little boy heaven. He insisted on bringing a toy pot—with a lid—to the table for lunch and communicated—loud and clear—that his lunch was to go inside. He took the lid off for every bite he took and replaced it while he chewed and was obviously very proud of his lunchtime routine.
He was less happy when I told him we needed to put his pot into the dishwasher (since it was covered in cucumber slime, peanut butter, and strawberry jam).
"No, Momma!" he protested, clutching the pot to his chest. "Toy! TOY!"
In the end I convinced him to allow me to pry it from his fingers and I lugged him upstairs for nap time.
"No, Momma! Play! Toy! Food! Play! Toy! Food!" he cried.
In the end I managed to get him down for a nap.
He beat me upstairs when we came home from back-to-school shopping (after two years of not having to buy any supplies for our children, we suffered a bit of some sticker shock buying supplies for three children, but it was a decent trade-off for the emotional high of buying new school supplies (is there any better feeling?)) so by the time I made it up there he was already involved in cooking up some delicious pretend thing in his room.
One of his favourite things is putting these plastic ice cream cones on the stove burners because the stove burners light up when you turn them on, which illuminates the ice cream cones, and he seems to think that's pretty neat. He also made himself a little sandwich—with a hamburger bun, a hamburger, a plate, a slice of cheese, and a chip (in that order)—which he pretended to eat with much gusto.
Anyway, you can imagine how he responded when I told him it was time to get ready for bed, but after a whole lot of screaming about needing to play with his toy food, I managed to calm him down and get him into bed.
Hopefully tomorrow he'll want to play with his toy kitchen again! It's been rather nice to have him play on his own a little bit!
He was less happy when I told him we needed to put his pot into the dishwasher (since it was covered in cucumber slime, peanut butter, and strawberry jam).
"No, Momma!" he protested, clutching the pot to his chest. "Toy! TOY!"
In the end I convinced him to allow me to pry it from his fingers and I lugged him upstairs for nap time.
"No, Momma! Play! Toy! Food! Play! Toy! Food!" he cried.
In the end I managed to get him down for a nap.
He beat me upstairs when we came home from back-to-school shopping (after two years of not having to buy any supplies for our children, we suffered a bit of some sticker shock buying supplies for three children, but it was a decent trade-off for the emotional high of buying new school supplies (is there any better feeling?)) so by the time I made it up there he was already involved in cooking up some delicious pretend thing in his room.
One of his favourite things is putting these plastic ice cream cones on the stove burners because the stove burners light up when you turn them on, which illuminates the ice cream cones, and he seems to think that's pretty neat. He also made himself a little sandwich—with a hamburger bun, a hamburger, a plate, a slice of cheese, and a chip (in that order)—which he pretended to eat with much gusto.
Anyway, you can imagine how he responded when I told him it was time to get ready for bed, but after a whole lot of screaming about needing to play with his toy food, I managed to calm him down and get him into bed.
Hopefully tomorrow he'll want to play with his toy kitchen again! It's been rather nice to have him play on his own a little bit!
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