Following on from What Babies Really Want To Play With, you'll note there's a reoccurring theme, that of Moomin's passion to empty things, all the things, every things. Bags, purses, packets, shelves, cupboards and her personal favourite, a packet of baby wipes.  Now I could fork out £20 or so and buy a shiny plastic toy designed to put things in and take them out again, or I could just be a cheap skate and make one because, newsflash, she actually couldn't give a toss what it looks like, it's the act she likes.

I had copious amounts of old cloth wipes that we no longer use (thanks to the lovely Cheeky Wipes that have replaced them!) They're just small baby flannels that you can buy in packs of 5 or 6 from the pound shop.  The Dude had recently got some new trainers, so I wrestled the box from him, tapes it together, made a slot in the top (and taped round this too) and stuffed it with the flannels (and a load of used gift cards, don't ask!) Voila.  Best game ever.  She can now empty to her heart's content, granted she doesn't want to put them back yet but that's all part of the game, if you attempt to refill them it's a race against the Moomin as she crawls at hyper speed to empty them as fast as you put them back!

The money saved?  Can be put into the fund for a trip out somewhere, after all, memories are priceless.

What babies really want for their first birthday

Even as I type this I still find it hard to believe that Moomin will be a year old at the end of this month.  A whole year old.  How?!  It's cruel how quickly time slips through our fingers, I can still remember going into labour to birth her.

As she's our fourth baby, she already has a toy shop worth of toys that were once her siblings as well as token additions just for her.  Advertisements, shops and catalogues are near exploding with noisy, shiny things that she absolutely needs, apparently.

She can't talk yet, what with her being 11 months old and nor can she write her own birthday list.

What would she want though if she could tell us?  It's not hard to work out, all it takes is an exercise in observation.

So I present to you, the birthday list of what a one year old really wants to play with:

Fun With Water Beads

If there's one thing the local town has in abundance, it's pound shops.  They appear to be everywhere.  I'll admit to rather liking them at times, obviously some are considerably more palatable than others.  Some are a sweaty dark caverns of doom with over stacked shelves looming over you with tit and tat that you'll never need yet judging by the price you convince yourself you might need it, someday.  Yet others are simply bargain central.  I can't for the life of me remember the name of it yet there's one in particular that is light, airy, tidy and well presented.  The perfect stop for those pesky hairslides that Thing Two inevitably loses, all the time.  I refuse to fork out extortionate amounts for them when I can get 30 for £1!  Their six packs of baby flannels make excellent reusable nappy wipes and it's a little haven for cheap craft and art bits and bats for The Spawn.  It also means, after a boring shopping trip we can afford to treat The Preschooler.  He easily finds something he'd like in there every single visit and at a pound a pop, why not?

On our last visit there I was drawn to something I've been tempted to try for some time, water beads!  I'm not one for popping into florist supply shops on a whim and I never quite got round to ordering them online so this seemed almost like an omen.  I'll admit to being a trifle suspicious at what we'd get for a £1 so the skeptical side of me purchased two boxes just in case.

It's a rather simple process, you simply add the minuscule little packets of colourful doo-dahs to water.  They came with their own test tubes with the suggestion you fill it with a colour of your choice.  Sod that.  It would be akin to picking out a particular colour from cake sprinkles.  Never to do something by halves we opted instead to dump both packs into a large bowl of water.  The idea is you then observe as they grow.    I'm never quite sure who has the least spectacular attention span, myself or The Preschooler, regardless, neither of us were bored enough to stare at a bowl of water for longer than a few minutes.  Granted they did grow, yet they seemed to stop producing a deflated 'is that it?!' reaction from the both of us.  To say it was underwhelming would be an understatement.  I decided to give them the benefit of the doubt as the instructions have no indication as to how long it should take for them to expand fully.

We checked on their progress about an hour or so later and this was more liking to what I had expected, we
had a slimy bowl of multicoloured marble sized balls in water.  It's impossible to gaze upon them and not plunge your hand into them.  There is something creepy yet utterly satisfying about the slippery slime of the water and these slippery balls.  Granted the little buggers like escaping and they're an arse to pick up off the floor.





Their charm proved irresistible to Thing Two also.  She couldn't stop herself from plunging her hand into them.  In her usual effortless way she encouraged play through asking The Preschooler to find certain colours to make 'potions' as I introduced some measuring cups and the test tubes.

Seeing water slop all over the show I drained the beads so they had the shiny, glistening, oddly textured little balls of delight to play with, without the added mess of water.  This proved equally as satisfying to them and just as beguiling.  I feared they'd have a limited attraction, a mere novelty yet they audibly groaned when I told them it was time to tidy up and the first thing Thing Two requested to play with upon arriving home from school today was the water beads.






They are tempting though.  Just a mere glance of them is teasing to the senses.  I'll admit to having dunked
by hand into them on several occasions today in passing.

I think they'd look stunning over a lightbox in a dark room.  They'd also be more engaging with a longer shallower tub to hold them in.

These are sublime for sensory play and are helpful in teaching colours and the notions of absorbing and expanding. If you haven't tried them already, I highly recommend you give them a go.

Of play and imagination

Sometimes as well meaning grownups invested in our childrens play and imagination we inadvertently dismantle or subdue it.

Children don't always need toys with directed play.  Upon noticing Thing Two and The Toddler playing 'shops' I dutifully went and bought them some play money seeing as they were using Octons as substitute money.  What I failed to realise is they were happy using the Octons because in their mind it was money.  What happened to the money I bought?  It never got used.

When I was a child I loved playing with dolls, especially 'baby' dolls.  Naturally I wanted one of the new ones that cried and pissed etc.  It was the least played with doll I ever owned.  It wasn't fun having the the toy direct my play (not to mention it was tremendously ugly too).

Imagination isn't merely the act of playing, it's the creation of play.

Just because a child is obsessed with putting pretend fires out with random objects as substitute hoses, doesn't mean they're in need of a play hose.  They're not lacking a toy, they're creatively making one.

Through providing a toy with an obvious usage and purpose we're inadvertently sending the message that the act of imagining something was something else is incorrect.  We think by providing something we're helping when actually, we're not.

That's not to say new toys won't be appreciated or played with.  The Toddler adores his ride-on fire engine, even if he does use it as a crane and a rescue truck, yet he still runs up to Thing Ones room and pretends his desk and chair is a fire engine.  He has multiple toy phones yet still prefers to pretend his hand is one half the time.

Often the most obvious toys are the ones that become boring the quickest.

The Spawn

Following on from the seasons song Thing Two composed and performed for me whilst I attempted to pee in peace, she sang it to the whole of her year at school, on her own.  Sometimes her confidence astounds me, it's all situation dependant.  She'll perform like a diva at home, stand in front of 60 children at school and recite her own song yet take her to a restaurant she's never been in before and she turns into some morose limpet.  Her teacher suggested she write a song for Harvest, in typical Thing Two style, she wrote two.  She sang both today to her class and they're going to use one of them in their upcoming class assembly.  She never ceases to amaze me.

Thing One appears to have been undertaking a series of tests at school this past week to which he has no idea as to why they're all doing them or even if let alone when they'll find out the results.  I was initially rather worried that he had a female teacher this year as he tends to respond better to strong male figures yet his new teacher is absolutely adorable and is terribly enthusiastic.  Her niche is literature and she is positively aglow with the fact Thing One is a book worm and is writing fantasy stories and he finds her enthusiasm encouraging.  He;s coming home smiling, with stickers and tales of excitment.

The Toddler generally entertains himself in independent play during the day.  Just watching him mesmerises me.  His games are so in depth and engrossing for him.  He has a million worlds in his head.   He possibly has the strongest imagination in the family.  Today however he decided go involve us and this morning consisted of 10 books, four jigsaws, Peppa Pig, cutting out catalogue pictures to form a Christmas list and yet he still found time to insult me with his insults du jour being 'plank', 'moron' and 'smarty pants'  I'm not quite sure as to whether I should be impressed or insulted.  I'll admit to being greatly proud when whilst reading about potatoes being treated for disease (yes, really) upon the word disease he immediately breaks into an Anthrax rendition of 'Disease! Disease! Spreading the disease!'

I should be asleep, I'm bone tired and soul tired yet insomnia is paying yet another visit.  So i'll leave you with a toddlerism from tonight and one of Thing Two's jokes....

Me: 'Go to sleep!'
The Toddler: 'Do you want to see the mountain on my foot?'
[The Toddler takes his sock of and points to his ankle. He then makes me put the sock back on]
Me: 'Wow, that's a super cool mountain.  Go to sleep now'
The Toddler: 'Do you want to see the mountain on my other foot?'
[rinse, repeat]

Argh!

Thing Two:  There were two brothers called Stupid and Manners.  They were climbing at tree when stupid fell out so he went to the Dr.  The Dr asked him his name he said 'stupid!.' The Doctor said 'don't be rude, where's your manners?'  so Stupid said 'still in the tree'

See what I have to work with?

The one about NOT sharing

You're sat at a computer, utterly engrossed in something when someone comes up behind you and snatches the keyboard from you, you're just about to break their teeth and tell them to fucking wait their turn when suddenly someone says 'Let so and so have a go now, you've had a turn.  They  really want to use it.  You have to share it.' It's yours, you were in the middle of doing something and you don't want to share it.  Can you imagine the above scenario?  No? That's because you're an adult and the world doesn't work that way.  You share what you want, when you want and to whom you want to.

So now imagine a young child playing with a toy elephant.  They've been immersed in some intricate game with it for quite some time.  Another child sees the elephant and really really wants it so heads on over and tries to take it.  The first child attempts to keep hold of it because they're not done playing with it.  A 'helpful' adult interjects and usually will say something along the lines of '[child B] would really like to play with that elephant and you've had it ages, let them have it now.  You know it's nice to share'  There is no request, it's a veiled order and child A knows this so begrudgingly hands the toy over.  Is this really sharing?  or is this merely submission?  The notion of sharing itself suggests an element of choice, either by mutual agreement to share by one party agreeing or offering to share something with another party.  Child A isn't learning what it feels like to willingly let someone else use something that is desired by both.  Child B isn't learning gratitude or how nice it feels for someone to let them use something they want.  Child A is basically learning that sharing is shit, it interrupts your game and makes you feel sad or angry, they will come to resent doing it.  Child B is learning that if you want something, you get it.  How is this beneficial to either child or even take it one step further....to society?

As adults, no matter how impatient we feel if someone is using something we're waiting for, we wait.  We may not want to wait.  We may hate waiting.  We may try and hurry the person up (whilst calling them every name under the sun in our head). We know though that essentially no matter how much of an arse it appears the person already using it is, we have to wait until they're finished.

Why should it be different for kids?

Regardless of whether it's an adult or a child requesting Child A to give up the toy, Child A should feel confident enough to reply with 'I'm not finished with it yet/I'm still playing'  The adult shouldn't insist they hand over the toy either, they could just have easily have said to Child B 'I'm sorry but [Child B] hasn't finished with it yet'  How many times as an adult do we end up agreeing to stuff we don't want to do all because we felt we couldn't say no?  How terrific would it be if we gave our children the confidence to assert themselves from an early age, to be able to say 'no' to something someone else wants them to do.  To not have to say yes because they feel they can't say no?

It's natural for Child B to want it and even to grab it, the child is being impulsive which is what children do best yet it is our job as adults to help them develop a level of impulse control.

Child B is likely to be unhappy because they really really want that elephant.  They don't want to wait.  Waiting is a life skill though, it's something we all need to do.  It's also teaching Child B to respect boundaries, the boundary here being that they can't take the toy because Child A has it.  It's okay for them to feel angry or annoyed, we need to let them feel it and express it and then deal with it.  It would be wrong to trivialise or invalidate how they're feeling.  Hell, even let them tell Child A how miffed they are, they're entitled  to feel that way.  So long as they understand that they still can't take the toy, they still have to wait.

If Child A, fickle creatures that children are, finally loses interest in the toy and moves on the adult can either indicate to  Child B  that the toy is no longer being used or they could remind Child A that Child B was waiting for it.  This is now teaching Child A to respect others and also instills an awareness of others feelings too.  Child A can now choose to hand the toy over.  To share.  To give.  They will then feel the influx of positive emotion that accompanies this action.  It's basic psychology, if it feels good they're likely to want to do it again, unprompted too.

Yet this all sounds marvelously spiffy but it's not always so easy to implement, especially if either of the children are yours.  Whatever you do, one of the children is going to be pissed with you.  Sometimes we're misguided in what we believe is right and what is socially acceptable.  In an attempt to appear to be a good parent/human we may be tempted to nudge and insist our child to give up something before they're ready to just so we can internally boast that our child is soooooo good at sharing.  We fail to notice our child isn't sharing anything.  We are the one that is sharing in this instance, something that wasn't ours to share.

Nobody said it was easy.  Doing the genuinely right thing, never is.

If a child is expected to share something, it helps to let them in on this expectation before they start playing.   Something especially necessary in the case of squabbling siblings.  We have one trampoline and three kids who all want to use it at the same time, in this case we tell them before they use it that they must take turns and they can have x-minutes per turn. Don't get me wrong, I'm guilty as sin, when The Toddler is midst hissy fit and Thing One decides to match it, in sheer exasperation we may tell poor Thing One to just let The Toddler have it first, knowing that he will soon bore of it and give it back.  It's one of those anything for a quiet life moments.  We're only human. We're also guilty of hurrying Things One and Two up if they're taking an unnecessarily long time purely to make the other child wait longer. We do however redeem ourselves though as if Thing One was genuinely using something before The Toddler wanted it we do insist The Toddler waits and start operation distraction.

I do feel that there are slightly different rules however depending on the environment as in a park I'd never let The Spawn spend forever on a swing if other children were waiting, I would however suggest they come back and have another go later.

Finally, I also believe that some possessions should be sacred for a child.  If a child has a beloved toy, we should respect that and not simply allow others to use it even in their absence, this kind of passive sharing
is breaking a bond of trust. Just because a child isn't using something, it doesn't always mean we can allow another to use it.  It doesn't matter if it is a doll, a car or even a pebble.  How would you feel if whilst you were out your partner let a friend of his borrow your favourite necklace or shoes?  There has to be some things that a child can choose to not share if it has significant meaning to them and have trust that this will be respected.

Building blocks of imagination

With the massive array of choice out there for children's toys, all shiny and flashing as they gobble batteries and break silences.  I know they're fun, that the kids love them.  God knows we have a toyshop worth of them conquering the lounge.

I can't help but think though that they remove a large portion of imagination.  They're so obviously something that it's hard to make them into something different.  They're directing play.  They even make the right sounds so you don't have to.  I remember once when I was a child being desperate for a doll that cried etc, when I finally got one I barley played with it.  I hated the very part of it that made me want it.  It took away the spontaneity and the sense of open play.  It devoured the sense of possibilities.

So it's always terribly lovely to see one of The Spawn choosing the basic toys and possibilities over the battery brigade and creating their own little universe with them.

Last Christmas we bought The Toddler some Octons.  Whilst Myself, The Husband and Thing Two thoroughly enjoyed them, The Toddler didn't really show much interest.  Until now.  He has played with them every day for the past week.  It's fascinating observing him.

Take this for example

A flying fire engine speed boat.

How utterly amazing is imagination?  Totally unprompted and unaided.  He saw something in his head and created it with these.

Then out came the old favourite, building blocks.  These have lasted through all three of The Spawn, Thing Two even still uses them now to create epic landscapes and castles.  So what did The Toddler and I do with them that day?

First we made steps, for his beloved wooden people.

Then we made a car park.

The Toddler then redesigned it and commenced building a rescue station

Which evolved into this

We then spent the next half hour having to carry out full on rescue missions as the stairs were on fire, people were stuck down holes and on roofs.  He was the ambulance and fire engine whilst I had to be the rescue helicopter and the police van.  We were the players and the writers of the story as well as providing the scripts and soundtrack.

All this from a pile of bricks and some wooden people/vehicles.

Obviously he adores his all singing all dancing toys too, even if he does add his own touches substituting parts of one with parts of another.  I love that he breaks the rules.  I love that he creates his own.

It's nice to go back to the basics at times though.  What better game to play than one you create yourself in your own universe?

Moo Moo Moo

Rewind to around four months ago and you may recall The Teapot Chronicles . I'm sure you will be immensely relieved to discover that the teapot is still here and even more marvellous is the news that so is It's lid, here that is, unlike my sanity but that is somewhat of a no brainer (a bit like The Husband). I'm still rather plagued with the psychosis of ensuring each evening all pieces are present and accounted for and safely in their carry case where they should be. The carry case that is cruelly partially transparent which only serves to make it all the easier to torment me when pieces go awry. Unfortunately there have been several spoons missing in action, presumed dead, yet the 'there is no spoon'mantra has so far prevented me from clawing at the paintwork and ripping up the carpet to find them. If I try incredibly hard and self medicate with copious amounts of chocolate I can temporarily suspend all belief that four spoons existed let alone any notions that they may be indeed necessary.Temporarily.

Recently Thing Two rediscovered the rather charming farm she received from My Mother several Christmas' ago. It's the rather sweet Rosebud Farm from The Early Learning Centre which I try so very hard to adore yet I can't help but be aggravated  by the shocking lack of pigs, I mean really....a farm without pigs? Not to mention the absurd presence of ducklings yet no duck and a cockeral and no hens! How bloody negligent of them! Then there is the horse that looks suspiciously like a giraffe, Yes, on a farm. Irregardless of It's misdemeanors it is awfully cute and yet I can count on one hand the amount of times Thing Two has bothered with It. She simply doesn't 'do' that kind of play as the ignored dolls house will attest to. She appears utterly appalled by the idea of having to set things up.

Until recently that is, when The Husband gutted tidied her pit room. Suddenly she sparked an interest in it and sneaked the buggery thing downstairs much to The Toddlers sheer delight. You see, The Toddler is a real Toddler who actually plays with such things and remarkably enjoys them too. He is deliriously attached to the two cows and goes on these barmy quaint psychotic rampages with them shouting 'Moo Moo Moo' incessantly.

Yet Houston, we have a problem. The farm consists of pieces. Multiple pieces. Multiple necessary pieces.  Vital pieces that are intrinsic to our very existence and should one go AWOL it would render the play farm experience as we know it ruined for ever more.  Just thinking about this is tumulting me into a twitchy state of panic.

Every night at tidy up time I have to launch a full scale animal search and rescue mission enlisting Thing One and Thing Two who usually find many of the animals in The Toddlers oven, roast beef anyone? I try to remain ambivalent for to reveal the true extent of my frantic anxiety only makes the animals hide harder. Gits.

It doesn't stop there though. Seriously. It gets worse. The level to which my scantily clad sanity stoops knows no bounds. The pieces have to be arranged. Yes. What's worse is that I actually have a small perverse pleasure in doing this, It's immensely satisfying for the soul. Everytime The Toddler or Thing Two desecrate and pillage one of my lovingly arranged scenes a voice inside of me cries. A lot. Because quite frankly It's not bloody fair and really rather mean of them!

I tried changing tactics and tucked all the pieces up safe and sound for the night inside the farm, but it just wasn't the same. It didn't feel right. So I waited until their bath was ready and secretly rearranged them.

The nightly tidy up is about to commence.

The farm and teaset are both strewn across the room.

Be still my beating heart.

Oh shit.

I need gin. Quickly.

Oh. Balls

Yes, actual balls, what on earth did you think I was referring to? ;)

The Husband returned home from an errand last week with a bag of 18 plastic bright coloured balls that cost him the grand total of £1.

What can I say?  A pound rather well spent.  The toddler simply adores his new balls and Thing One and Thing Two haven't left them alone either.  It's amazing how many games they can devise with just balls. 

It's always the way isn't it.....toy boxes full of toys yet give them some balls or even better, a box and they play like there's no tomorrow.

I remember making a car out of boxes when I was a child, it was verily impressive and I drew on my Nannas silver coloured tea tray with marker pen for the steering wheel.  Oops.  Such a fond memory, I think I may harass my parents for the pictures.

But yes, balls.  Stare at a pile of brightly coloured balls and try not to play with them.  Bet you can't.