Negotiations

Anna loves her Play-doh. Really, really loves it. Every morning, after Little Einsteins, she says, "Mommy, wanna go in the playroom and play with Play-doh?".

"Sure," I say, sighing inwardly. Because it's not a simple matter of just getting her the stuff and leaving her to it. No, it's more a matter of, how long can I sit there and make shapes FOR her, per her instructions, before I go crazy? But it's creative play, it's harmless and clean and she loves it and it's NOT Little Einsteins, so I go along with it almost every time.

As we walk up the short stairs to the playroom, she then always says, "We're gonna get the Play-doh. Anna gets five Play-dohs."

This is where the negotiations begin. The set that we have is 50 tiny tubs of different colors. Anna knows she's only allowed to have three at a time. Then, one day, Kurt gave her four, because he didn't know the rule. It's been an issue ever since.

"No, Anna, only three Play-dohs. You know you only get three colors at a time."

Holding my hand up the stairs, she says then, "Anna's gonna play with four colors."

Sigh. "No, sweetie, remember? Only three."

"Anna love the four colors of Play-doh."

And on and on. Once we're settled with our THREE colors and she eventually cuts me loose from cookie making and cake making and star making, she usually sits and plays on her own for a long time. Sometimes she stuffs it, tubs and all, into her little pink purse and walks around with it on her arm. And then, of course, she asks me for another four tubs of Play-doh, since hers is now "hidden" in the purse. Notice, she asks for FOUR more, as if I won't catch it. Tenacious little squirt.

This evening, she was playing at her little table as I sat at my computer, with my back to her. I glanced over my shoulder and she was putting all the little shapes and balls of Play-doh in her purse. I smiled and turned back to my screen.

Literally no more than a minute or two later, she came up to my chair, holding an un-opened tub of Play-doh and said, "Mommy, wanna open purple?".

Turning towards her, I saw that she had an extra tub in her hand. She had realized the box was within reach on a table and taken it out to add to the three she already had.

"No, Anna, only three..." I started to say, and then I saw her little play table.

She had piled, in that short minute or two, EVERY single tub of Play-doh from the box. There were 47 little yellow tubs with multi-colored lids all over the table. The rest were in her purse.

I looked at my industrious daughter. She smiled, held the purple tub out to me. "Four?", she asked.

After I was able to control my laughter, I caved, I admit it. It was too cute. "Okay, Anna. Let's put all these other ones away, and then you can have FOUR Play-dohs. Okay?"

"Yeah, Mamma! Four Play-dohs for Anna!"

Negotiations can be tricky, but I think I still won this one, on a certain level. Four is still less that 47, right?