Playing With and For My Daughter

*ding*

The chime on my little girls Playskool kitchenette oven just chimed and that means the cake is done. She gleefully opens the door and with a tiny oven mitt protecting her little hand pulls out an empty pan. The fact that it is empty doesn't matter to her because she's pretending and the cake is fresh from her imagination.

As I watch this scene play out I know what role I will be asked to play…I am the cake taster. I sit at her tiny princess table, my knees high in the air, waiting for her latest creation. I know whatever she brings me will taste delicious. She is a culinary master. Many would expect nothing less from my little girl. She has been toddling around our kitchen for four years watching me bake pies, cakes, and cookies. As she walks towards me an excited smile spreads across her angelic face. This must be a really special cake.

"Here mommy," she says as she slices a piece of cake for me, "it's chocolate." (her favorite)

She watches as I pick up my pink fork and dig in, waiting for my verdict.

"Mmmmm! It's so moist and yummy! This is your best cake yet!"

Her smile reaches her eyes, making them sparkle, as she quickly turns and skips back to her kitchen for another baking experiment.

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I loved making pretend cakes when I was younger, then Play-Doh cakes, and finally real cakes. Baking was an outlet for me and I was pretty decent at it. When I thought of having children, I dreamed this scene many times and it was pretty much how I saw my life as a mother playing out. I would play with my daughter. Eat her imaginary cakes. Teach her to bake real ones one day. Oooo and Ahhh over her creations and help her figure out what went wrong because sometimes baking does go awry (my solution for a sunken cake is to turn it into a punch bowl cake).

Like baking life can also go awry.

I don't really play "with" Rae. A lot of times I end up playing "for" her and there's a big difference.

Playing "with" her includes rousing peek-a-boo sessions, blowing bubbles towards her so she can try to pop them with her shaky hands, sitting at the piano while we both tickle the ivories, clapping her hands to silly songs, or sitting her monkey "Mo-Mo" on my head and pretend to sneeze making him fly off and hit her (she thinks this is a hilarious…I have videos to prove it). There are other things too like reading books, complete with silly voices and sounds, and going over flash cards on her iPad. From time to time she will lead the activity like dropping her shapes in a bucket, pushing the handle on her gum ball machine (she really loves that toy), or scooting on her butt to reach a toy. But there are times when I am playing "for" her.

If the activity requires tapping into ones imagination and acting out what you think up then it is MY imagination, not HERS. She doesn't have an effective way of letting me know what she is thinking. I might pick up her doll and pretend that it is dancing a reel with Mo-Mo the monkey, but maybe she wants the doll to be a doctor and healing Mo-Mo the way Doc McStuffins fixes Chilly and Stuffy on her favorite cartoon. I just have no way of knowing. I am playing "for" her at this point. It feels very different and I'm still trying to adapt.

There is no kitchenette nestled in the corner of our home. That wound still causes me a little twinge of pain when I'm in the toy section of any retail store. Most of the time I am okay with that, but around her birthday and Christmas it is more difficult.

Now I use my imagination to come up with ways to play "with" Rae, not just "for" her, and it takes a lot of out of the box thinking (and a lot of energy and shopping). We adapt toys, add suction cups, and create clamps. We buy, build, or sew things I see that might work. For example: The other day I found an artist board that would allow us to paint and color at home! I was so excited!! To paint or color with her requires me to grow a third (sometimes fourth) arm and this board would secure the paper and would be easy to prop up which would enable to me to assist Rae. I'm pretty sure Santa is going to slip the board along with some more fat crayons and markers (Crayola of course) under the tree this year. Shhhh…don't tell Rae.

Making Cookies

I love to bake. That's kind of an understatement. I REALLY LOVE to bake! Most people know me for my banana bread (I'm up to about 8+ variations), but I enjoy baking just about anything. I always looked forward to teaching my children how to bake. The floor and counter being dusted with flour. Too much salt being added to the batter forcing us to make more then intended (the horror). The excitement on their faces while they impatiently wait for their treats to come out of the oven. Encouraging them to give something they made to others (who doesn't love edible gifts). Teaching them that as long as it tastes delicious then it doesn't matter if it doesn't look perfect and if it doesn't taste that yummy we just tweak the recipe and try again (I've transformed a few so-so layer cakes into great punch bowl cakes...and honestly, I still get a little antsy if it isn't just right...my inner perfectionist is a beast!). Watching as their confidence grows with each new recipe mastered. These are some of the memories I cherish and lessons I learned from my mother while standing by her side in our kitchen.

Rae is not able to bake (not without some assistance).

That broke my heart.

The downside: I'm still healing from that harsh reality.

The upside: I found a way to cope.

While surfing Pinterest, I came across recipes for Cookie Dough Bites and it was eggless. I LOVE cookie dough! In my 30+ years on earth I have eaten my fair share (probably more than) and I didn't (and still don't) care if it had eggs or not. I haven't gotten deathly ill from eating egg riddled cookie dough (or any other dough for that matter). But I thought this might work for another idea I had so I pinned it to my Sweet Tooth board and moved on to the next pin.

Months ticked by...

I started trying to figure out how to share my love of baking with Rae and I knew there were a few obstacles in our way.

1. Rae doesn't use her arms well so we will have to help her mix the batter.
2. Rae likes to put EVERYTHING into her mouth so it will have to be something safe for her to eat. (just because I eat eggy cookie dough doesn't mean she can)

The pin from months ago came to mind and it was the answer to my dilemma. Only 5 ingredients, I could pre-mix it just a bit, and no eggs! It was perfect. I told our OT that during her next session we were going to make cookie dough and she was thrilled (she loves making a mess).

It wasn't baking in the traditional sense of the word, but it works for us and has some great sensory benefits for Rae. I'm pretty sure this won't be the last time Rae and I make cookies together. In fact, I've already found a recipe for eggless peanut butter bites!

Mission "Eat"

I'm raising the white flag and conceding victory to my 21 month old daughter. Rae wins!

We are abandoning our campaign for the sign "More*" at meal times. We have tried to teach, encourage, bribe (fruit bars, toys, or animal crackers), and compromise with her (just tap the tray for Momma). We are now done (for the time being). The closest we ever got to seeing "More" was a tap or smack on her tray and even those were inconsistent. She can't bring her tiny digits together and ask me for "More."

Her arms aren't just weak. They are REALLY weak. Sometimes, when she's having a rough day, I might as well be holding an armful of cooked spaghetti noodles. So, in light of repeated failed attempts to solicite the sign "More" from Rae we have decided to work on something we think she can handle. The logic being... If she can pull a spoon to her mouth she can sign "Eat."

So, now we are moving forward with Plan B, or what I am dubbing, Mission "Eat."

Part of the special needs journey is learning to adapt to the abilities of your child and accept that what you think (read as hope) they can do and what they can actually do aren't always the same thing. Yes, I know this is also true for all parents out there, sometimes it just feels a little different. The average toddler (which technically Rae is considered a toddler even though she doesn't toddle) is quite capable of lifting their arms, pressing their fingers together, and tapping the tips to ask for "More." Rae, apparently, is not...at least not yet anyways.

Here's to hoping Mission "Eat" doesn't end with another white flag waving in the breeze.

*for more on "More" read my previous post Doing More