Lunchtime Chronicles: Mitchell’s Playpen Bootcamp P2
The next week, I walked into Shepherds Daycare with a new mission in mind for Mitchell’s lunchtime bootcamp—introducing him to a giant, custom-built high chair. Now, this wasn’t your ordinary high chair. It was practically a throne, big enough for Mitchell to have all the space he needed for his next messy conquest, but secure enough to keep his newfound artistic tendencies contained. The goal? To train him in the fine art of high-chair dining, and of course, to see just how far his creative streak would take him.
The session kicked off with a plate of cold mac and cheese—Mitchell’s medium of choice—and a clean slate in the form of his freshly washed shirt. At first, he looked at the plate curiously, tiny fingers dipping into the cold, squishy heap. It took mere seconds for him to realize the potential sitting before him. He smeared the cheesy goo across his chubby cheeks with gusto, turning his face into a bright, yellow canvas. Then, as if summoning the spirit of abstract art, he moved on to his shirt, patting and spreading the mac and cheese around like it was finger paint.
“Oh, Mitchell!” I laughed as he giggled uncontrollably, his eyes sparkling with pure delight. It wasn’t just the mess—though there was plenty of that—it was the way he approached the task with such unrestrained joy. He worked with precision, spreading the cheese in uneven streaks down his shirt, creating a masterpiece only a toddler could imagine. And when I handed him a spoon to encourage some actual eating? He promptly used it as a pointer, poking at the cheesy blobs he had carefully decorated along the straps of his high chair.
Like any new skill, high-chair training came with its challenges, but there was no denying Mitchell was having the time of his life. Somewhere in the chaos of mac and cheese-covered fingers and his triumphant babbles, a thought struck me—this was more than just a meal or a mild daycare experiment. It was a chance for Mitchell to explore textures, cause and effect, and a little slice of independence. Sure, cleanup would take a little extra elbow grease, and his shirt might never fully recover, but these moments were priceless.
By the end of the session, Mitchell had not only mastered the art of smearing mac and cheese but had also developed an uncanny ability to turn lunchtime into a sensory adventure. His smile stretched wide, cheese-covered and proud, as if to say, “Look, I did it!” And honestly? He had. High-chair bootcamp was messy, silly, and downright chaotic—but for Mitchell, it was nothing less than a triumph.
Journal Prompt:
If you were tasked with designing Mitchell's high-chair bootcamp, how would you structure it? Consider the balance between fun and learning—what activities or creative ideas would help Mitchell explore new foods while keeping the experience joyful? How would you handle the inevitable mess, and what strategies might you use to encourage his independence? Describe your plan in detail, from the setup of the space to the kinds of challenges or rewards you would include to make every meal feel like an exciting adventure.