It seems as though the more I live as a mother, the more my adolescent desires for independence and originality have morphed into longings for the familiarities of my childhood. I find myself trying to recreate all the good things that my own dear mother did for me and my siblings over the years, and one mainstay in our childhood home was homemade playdough. It's not fancy or original, but there's nothing better than sitting around the table and rolling out some worms and snakes.
I found the recipe here.
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