the play-doh catastrophe

it wasn't. i just had some big feelings.

Listen, all kids do things that irritate their parents. That's par for the course. But there is this one thing my kid used to do that takes the cake and I will tell you why. Ok fine, it doesn't take the cake, I'm being hyperbolic, but it felt like it did. This story will tell you more about me than it will about my kid and I'm not that proud of it but here we are.

It has to do with play-doh.

My kid loooooved play-doh. LOVED IT.

She was probably two and a half when the following scene took place (repeatedly) and I would lose my mind.

She had a bajillion colors of play-doh and would demand they all be opened. No problem, here you go. Then, she would declare, "I'm making a wainbow pizthaa!" which sounds adorable except let me tell you what happened next.

She would assemble "the dough" by choosing one color as the base and flattening it out. All normal, all fine, no issues here. Then she would carefully take a bit of each other play-doh color and put it on the top of the "piztha" dough, announcing each topping: “The gween is mushwoooms. Dis one iz an olive!”

Like I said, adorable.

So cute. So sweet. Super yummy. Good times. A+ parenting. Winning life. Look at this, adorableness.

And then.

SHE WOULD SMUSH THE PIZZA UP INTO A BALL TO MAKE A BROWN CIRCLE.

"Here you go! Here is your pizza!"

Beaming with pride, she would hand me the brown ball.

And I would hyperventilate.

At first I thought it was because I was being an uptight A-type crazy person. I needed to relax more or whatever the self care books say, I guess? Or maybe it was because I respect efficiency and hate waste; and why would you waste all those colors?! Yeah, it was that.

Except it wasn’t.

Something deeper was happening because the reaction I had inside was completely disproportionate to the stimulus: little kid mushes play-doh together...so...what?

I know. but listen, it's indicative of a bigger issue because something went off inside of me that said: OH NO. ABSOLUTELY NO. NOT. ALLOWED. NO. NO. NO NO NO. NOPE.

It was odd.

It was like there was an invisible set of creative play-doh rules and my kid had just broken them. And I was...mad? Not at her, per se. But, like, existentially mad.

We all know that when you play with play-doh, you keep the colors separate, copied what was on the box, or made shapes or food using the spaghetti making thing (the one that looks like a stapler and your dough always gets stuck in it). You preserve the colors. You can use them, but not mix them unless you are consciously trying to make a new color. Like it's fine to mix blue and white to make cyan, but you can't just smush all the colors together and call that a rainbow!!! THAT IS NOT ALLOWED!!

Not allowed. <-- There it is.

According to who?

Why?

The play-doh art police?

Here was a tiny human having fun. Using her creativity. Making things. Breaking things. Exploring. Following her instincts. Trying things that might not work. Having a blast. Making her own rules. And I could. not. handle. it.

My “Be Good” script went off.

Be Good: Follow the instructions. Do a good job. Make something pretty. Show it off. Comply with directions. Don't make a mess. Don't deviate from what is expected.

It is wild how deep that conditioning goes. I flashed to memories of elementary school art class where I was told what was allowed and not allowed. Who was "good" and who was "bad." Who had talent and who should maybe try sports. Where fun was irrelevant, and technique, form, and skill were praised. Where you were applauded for following directions, not “being original” or exhibiting any sort of independent thought.

It was like school had beat the imagination instincts out of me.

And I had no idea until my kid started challenging those scripts. And I was forced to look at them.

School is starting back up in the United States and it has me thinking a lot about this. That balance between healthy striving, learning, skill building, and the practice of improving on your craft - and creative fun, invention, playfulness, and delight.

I think it’s a false dichotomy. We teach it as if they are two separate spheres, but they’re overlapping (maybe concentric) circles. You want the discipline to improve on craft, sure. But if you don't poses the capacity to imagine that this ball of brown mush is a rainbow pizza, well, then what are we even doing here?

The fun fuels the discipline. The discipline informs and improves the fun.

The two work together to create - well, to create.

I can’t, in good conscience, tell you I don’t still hyperventilate when my Be Good script gets activated. But I can tell you that now I know it’s happening. And when it happens I tell it to find someone else to bother because I have a rainbow pizza brown ball of play-doh mush to make. 🌈 🍕

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