Sometimes even a parent can learn something from preschool. Recently I learned how to make play dough and also how NOT to make play dough.

When I picked up my twins from preschool, I saw a note the teacher posted outside the door requesting volunteers to make play dough for the class. The note included a recipe, and it seemed quite easy (only 6 ingredients) so I thought I’d give it a shot.

The next day I bought the ingredients and asked Mila and Eli to be my kitchen assistants. I hyped up the experience of making play dough from scratch, and they were excited about our project. We mixed up our concoction, but I just couldn’t get it to the right consistency. It was soupy, so I added more flour. Then it became a silly putty consistency, but it was still too sticky to mold in my hands. Before I knew it, I had wasted an hour and a half and still had no play dough to show for it. Of course, Mila and Eli had lost interest by this time and were off playing with their toys.

How could this not be working? I consider myself to be a fairly intelligent person. I should be able to make play dough, right? Usually I have good outcomes in the kitchen when I have a recipe to follow. Sadly, my self-esteem took a smack down from play dough.

The next time I dropped off the kids at preschool, I asked another mom if her play dough turned out well. Then she informed me that a very important detail was left off the recipe. You have to place the mix in a pot and heat it on the stove while constantly stirring until the mixture reaches the desired play dough consistency.

I don’t know if this is common knowledge that you have to heat play dough, but how could that step be left out of the recipe?

Quite honestly, I ‘d rather go to Target and buy play dough for the amount of time, energy and money I put into making this homemade play dough.

Mommy guilt was the only thing standing in my way of a trip to Target though. I couldn’t allow myself to be defeated by play dough. Did I really want to show up at preschool holding store bought play dough when all the other competent moms had homemade play dough for the class?

So, I put all that bottled frustration to work and made another batch. This time everything turned out just as it should. Will I ever make it again? I doubt so. I decided that I just don’t like cooking something on the stove if I can’t eat it. Of course, my 3-year-old twins might tell you it’s debatable. They still try to sneak a bite of play dough when I’m not looking.

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