Whistle while you work

It's quite amusing to look back to the beginning of the Easter holidays and remember our plans to spring-clean the entire house. I'd made room-by-room lists of things that needed doing, and stuff that needed purchasing. All so organised but, my goodness, all so ambitious.

The children had swimming lessons every morning and, in the second week, they took part in a drama club. Then there were trips to local museums, the park, visiting friends and so forth which, while essential to making holidays-at-home fun, go some way to explaining how the time for spring-cleaning simply disappeared.

But the wonderful, and surprising, thing about the holidays was that I did do some spring-cleaning in the end. Not my spring-cleaning, sadly, but spring-cleaning nonetheless. I led some museum sessions for tots and their carers at the Geffrye Museum and one of them, called Whistle While You Work, was all about housework. It was such fun devising the spring-cleaning activities and, with a merry band of nearly twenty littlies in each session, I found a very jolly team of housework fans through play, stories, songs, making and movement; they were so enthusiastic.

With a list of four housework chores written in large print on a clipboard, I easily enlisted everyone's help to sweep the floor, wash-up, finish the laundry and dust away the cobwebs.

First we examined a selection of historic household equipment and those that wanted to had a turn with the washing dolly, the broom and the carpet beater. Then we took a close look at a 1930's vacuum cleaner. It was great for them to get their hands on these artefacts and, by trying them out, imagine what hard work it must have been to do household chores in the olden days.

Then we swept the floor using a new broom, and a dust-pan and brush, and I taught them a song to help them remember the best order to tackle the task. Then with several bowls of warm soapy water, plastic crockery, sponges and water sprays for rinsing, they began the next job; washing up. After that they pegged out all the clean laundry - damp dolls' clothes and soggy socks - along a washing line set up at just the right height for them. Everyone helped, and everyone loved taking part.

Finally it was time to do some dusting. They all took a turn at touching the museum's old-fashioned feather duster and I taught them the song Tickle-bird - great for practising the action of dusting, or tickling, away cobwebs. Then everyone made their own tickle-bird. This was quite an ambitious craft for this age group, but by laying out lengths of brightly coloured tape - about 75 cm long and sticky side up, secured underneath with a little blob of blu-tac at each end - we made it an achievable, fun and creative activity for them. The children chose lots of colourful feathers and soft cloth strips and pressed the ends of each onto their sticky tape in any order they liked. The babies simply enjoyed the sensory experience of touching the feathers, of course. Parents and carers helped with the next bit; rolling and pressing the stick all the way along the feathery and cloth-covered tape to create a wonderful flourish of feathers and cloth strips at one end - so soft, and so tickly.

We finished the session with more songs - including Tickle-bird again of course, and then a story - Mrs Mopple's Washing Line by Anita Hewett.

As the children left the session I could see some of them cleaning the air with their feather-duster, and singing Tickle-bird as they went. It was a great reminder of the enthusiasm the under-fives have for housework; how they love to be busy, and how they definitely have the enviable innate ability to whistle while they work.

Activity bags: the inside story

We've just returned from visiting family in Suffolk and, as usual when we go on a trip, my children took with them a few prized possessions and some things to do in an activity bag - a doing bag, as my auntie would have it. Bud and Daisy are getting so grown-up that they're now very keen to - and quite capable of - deciding what to take all by themselves. 

There are lots of reasons why we always pack an activity bag if we're going on a trip. It can: 

• break the ice if meeting new children
• be a conversation starter between a child and a grown-up friend 
• provide a safety net, if a child is shy
• be a source of inspiration for a child to find something to occupy themselves
• be a comforting link with home
• be the perfect 'boredom buster', for long journeys, time in a queue and the like
• an alternative - for parents - to handing over the smart phone

The contents of our two activity bags are quite an accurate and, I think, sweet insight into Bud and Daisy's interests and personalities at the moment.

Here's what I found in Daisy's bag:

1. travel comb and brush

2.Easter chick

3. lip balm

4. mini horses and jump

5. fairy wand

6. bangles

7. felt tip pens and a pencil

8. writing and drawing paper

9. line and pattern-faced die

10. book - The Queens' Knickers

11. fairy doll

12. glittery nail polish

Here's what I found in Buddy's bag:

1. playing cards

2. racing car

3. chess set

4. whoopee cushion

5. Woodstock soft toy

6. drawing and writing paper

7. pencil case

8. Lotus Esprit (from the Spy Who Loved Me)

9. remote-controlled Batmobile

10. two Formula 1 cars

11. two audio books: The Enormous Crocodile and Winnie the Pooh

12. three books - two Mr Gums and Diary of a Wimpy Kid

Crafty things to bring on Spring

Even though many schools have just finished for the Easter holidays, they have done so in a flurry of snow and sub-zero temperatures. This seems very strange. And very wrong. Where is Spring? We've been on a bit of a mission to find it; replacing anything vaguely wintry around the house with things we associate with the elusive season - from flowers and bunnies to chicks and, of course, eggs. 

A few days ago I set up an invitation to create a Spring garland and Daisy seized the opportunity. I thought she might make some egg shapes from the jolly pastel-coloured paper as I'd found an oval stencil but, as is often her way, she just used my initial prompt to get started and it took off in her own direction. So we have, as well as eggs, bunnies, hatching chicks, and Easter baskets - all arranged symmetrically. 

Daisy also wanted to make an Easter display. So I dug out our rather dusty decorations and she did the rest. She allowed her brother to hang some of the eggs on the tree but he wasn't much interested in helping with the rest of display. He went back to his Lego building project - much to her relief, I think. 

Daisy put the finishing touches to the display and I was allowed to take a photograph of it; she really did enjoy putting it together all by herself. She has since gone back to it, and made a sign for the shelf that, rather surreally, says Happy Easter! Pick eggs when ripe. And she found a spring-like picture in one of our colouring books and, as well as adding some colour with felt-tipped pens, she drew six eggs hidden in the scene. This is now proudly displayed next to the Easter tree. 

If this little lot doesn't bring on Spring I'll eat my hat; my warm woolly hat, that is - I really shouldn't be needing it now anyway.

Hands-on play: still beating high-tech hands-down?

As far as play is concerned, I've always tried to say yes to my children, however elaborate, crazy, messy or parentally time-consuming their ideas might be.

This week alone they've wanted to:


build a den - which turned into a fairy grotto...

make a fresh batch of play dough which became a special treat for Snuffy the bear...

concoct a superhero-creating potion from kitchen store cupboard basics...

show each other new cycling routes around the park...

play Pictionary...

lay out a huge train track - which is still taking up the entire floor of their room...

...and to design me a new hat at Daisy's boutique.

Whether they want to get out all their books to design a road system, to put on a show with props and costumes, to carry out a science experiment involving many different liquids or to make light-sabers - I try to say yes. I do this because every day they come up with these fabulous ideas is a day that their imaginations and creativity are still flowing. 

   

   

It's a day when they are not screen-fixated; inert and reliant on another's creativity for their entertainment. I know these playful, energetic days are numbered. I sense the lure of technology, I see their excitement and enjoyment of screen-based games. Of course they already have their share of screen-time; they watch TV occasionally, we love a good film and we have just bought a Wii, for example. But we will not just give up and give in to the screen. We have strict rules about how much TV and computer time they get. I'm desperate for play in the real world, in real time, to be their default activity for as long as possible. 

I like to think that their ability and desire to still be brilliantly imaginative in their play is, in part, due to them knowing that we have always tried to say yes, and that we always will. Long live hands-on play.

Dr Dog's Hospital

In our house the arrival of a cardboard box equals an opportunity to get creative; a large cardboard box has even more potential. So today I set up an invitation to create for the children - a big box, some card, some tape and scissors, and our box of fancy scrap paper.

I felt like making a dolls' house but when my daughter came home, nose in a book, she was quite clear on the box's destiny. She decided we would make it into a hospital for the main character of the story she was reading - Babette Cole's Dr Dog.

And that's how we came to make our box into a hospital for children. I was instructed to make it as white as possible - because that's how hospitals are, apparently. My job was to cover as much of it as I could in white paper. Meanwhile Daisy wanted the hospital to have an operating theatre, necessitating a curtain - so she concertina-folded a piece of paper, we punched holes in the top, threaded through some cotton and then secured the ends of the cotton to the walls with a little sticky tape. Then we made beds for the ward, and a playroom for those children who were well enough to be up and about, or who were waiting to see the doctor.

I love how Doctor Dog got a surgical mask, and how Daisy put everyone in the hospital to bed before she went up to hers - even the rabbit family, whose children just needed eye tests. They were all happy to stay overnight so they could collect the bunnies' glasses in the morning; what a hospitable hospital.

As bright as a button

It was cold and snowy the night before my son was born, and it's much the same tonight. By this time I was already in established labour, but Buddy would not make his appearance until much later; the following afternoon actually. So here we are, eight years on, and we're still delighted with our bundle of joy; now as tall as a ten-year-old, as curly-haired as a cherub, and as bright as a button.

For his party this year, we are hosting a sleepover for a few of his friends. It has been pretty high-octane so far, with a hide-and-seek game which nearly turned the house inside out, then, after a quite civilised pause for pizza, the mission to put on pyjamas and settle down in the 'movie theatre' - our living room - was the loudest whirlwind of frenzied activity I've ever known. They are now be-cushioned and be-duvet'd in the dark, watching Megamind and munching popcorn. Occasionally one of them asks for a top-up of water but apart from that they are all immersed in the film and, dare I say it - really quiet. They've all bought sleeping bags (and cuddly toys, I notice) and their beds are set up and waiting for them when the film finishes. I've put our collection of vintage Dandy and Beano annuals in the bedroom for anyone who either can't get to sleep or wakes up too early. I've no idea if this will keep everyone quiet in the early morning, but Buddy knows that me getting out these treasured books is a very special treat indeed.

I'm taking advantage of this sleepover's period of calm to wish my wonderful eight-year-old a very happy birthday. It may be my only chance in what could be a very long night.

Groundhog Day puppets and play

We love Groundhog Day here at Deering HQ. Although we live in London, every February 2, we still want to know whether or not Punxsutawney Phil has predicted an early spring in Pennsylvania. And since my children were very small, they've always re-enacted the ceremony at Gobbler's Knob - usually using a brown sock, or some such, as the groundhog. This year, my daughter asked if we could make a proper puppet groundhog to use in our re-enactment; a sock would not suffice, apparently.

So I set up our kitchen table with the following:

• Assorted fabric scraps in groundhog colours

• Craft foam (neoprene) shapes - triangles for ears, circles for cheeks, heart for a nose, squares for teeth, semi-circles for paws

• Googly eyes

• Fabric glue

• Scissors

• White chalk

Here's how we made our groundhog puppet:

1. Daisy chose which fabric was to be the basic shape of her groundhog and lay it out flat in front of her. Then she put her hand down on top of it with her little finger and thumb stretched out to show where the paws of the groundhog might go.

2. I drew a chalk outline at least two centimetres away from her hand, in a sort-of groundhog shape - making a head with little ears, and two paws where her little finger and thumbs were. If you try this, make sure you leave a lot of room at the wrist end of things - make it wide enough for your little one's hand to fit in (ours was a little narrow, to be honest).

3. I cut out this shape and then Daisy drew round it on another piece of the same fabric to form the back of the groundhog.

4. While I was cutting this out, Daisy decorated the front of her groundhog sticking on the foam shapes and googly eyes with dots of fabric glue. She also wanted it to have a furry tummy and tail, so she drew an oval - for the tummy, and a long narrow triangle - for the tail - in chalk, on the back of some different fabric, which I then cut out for her.

5. While this was drying a little, I put a line of fabric glue around the edge of the back of the puppet, making sure the orientation was correct; the puppet was far from symmetrical.

6. We stuck the front of the groundhog to its back by matching the edges together as best we could, then we put a cardboard tube inside it to prevent the front and the back getting stuck together. It was dry after about 30 minutes.

In the evening Daisy re-enacted the Groundhog Day ceremony, very seriously, to a houseful of aunties, uncles and cousins. After watching her performance Daisy's little cousin aged three, promptly picked up Phil, and had a turn herself. She put the puppet on her hand, made him look around for his shadow, and then 'read' from Daisy's piece of paper that we would indeed have an early... morning!

It seems we have a new Punxsutawney Phil fan in the making.