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.

The price of convenience

Ready-made craft kits, like the examples above, are convenient. They're convenient because they're available in local supermarkets, craft and toy shops and online. And they're convenient because if you're looking to buy a gift for a child who likes to make, the box always tempts with the promise of 'having fun' and 'creating lovely home-made things' without any preparation. But how many of these kits actually deliver enjoyable, let alone creative, experiences for our children? How many of them actually make good on their promise that a child can accomplish the craft activity easily. They never say how an adult will need to help them follow every complicated instruction, or take over completely for the fiddly bits. And how exactly does this 'following of instructions' foster creativity anyway?

We've accumulated quite a collection of these kits over the years. My children are given them as presents and on paper, they seem like such a great idea. We keep them in our rainy-day box, and if we are stuck indoors, or if I or one of my children are feeling poorly we occasionally choose something from this stash to do together. We picked out a couple of kits to try today, and yet again, they did not live up to their creative promise.

We tried an old-fashioned knitting doll and a make-your-own friendship bracelet kit. We very quickly abandoned the knitting doll as neither myself nor my six-year-old could master the weird wool manoeuvres. Then the friendship bracelet instructions told us we needed the ability to plait, and to thread frayed wool through tiny pre-cut slits in neoprene - way beyond my daughter's skills. I eventually persuaded her to abandon the instructions and just do her own thing. This she eventually did, but unlike when she was little, she felt she had failed by doing so, and very quickly lost interest in the project. 

If I was more of a radical I would throw away the instructions and packaging of these kits, and add their materials to our existing collection of art and craft resources. Then I would respond how I usually do when my children want to make something - which is to gather a few materials from our collection, the recycling stash or the kitchen, and let them experience making something in their own time, in their own way - with their own outcome. This would be a much better use of the materials, and a more creative experience. 

We have a lot of success with these kinds of impromptu creative sessions. For example, on Sunday when I set out some simple craft materials in the hour before dinner, my two children happily joined me in some cosy and creative pomander-making. And the contents of this experience? Just an orange each, some cocktail sticks, a felt tip pen and lots of gorgeous smelling cloves. We had a fabulously chilled-out time making patterns for our pomanders by poking holes into our oranges with a cocktail stick. There was no set of instructions to follow, we inspired each other by sharing our ideas, they honed their hand-eye co-ordination and fine motor skills, and they both decided when their making-time was finished. The pomanders are now looking and smelling marvellous on our display shelf.

I suppose because of the time of year, I'm thinking how lovely it would be to put together some home-made creative kits using the components of some our favourite invitations-to-create - to give away as Christmas gifts.  Whether I manage this or not, at the very least I'm definitely going to try not to use these creativity-free ready-made kits with my children any more; for me, the price of their convenience is too high.

How to draw your dragon

We were back at Screen On The Green's Kids' Club yesterday and thrilled to see what was on - How To Train Your Dragon. This is a firm favourite of both my children. It's a great story about not fitting in, learning to be tolerant of others, being inventive, brave, and succeeding against all odds. Plus it's packed with fire-breathing dragons and edge-of-your-seat adventure. We love it.

Back at home we listened to the film's fantastic soundtrack; Buddy and Daisy were inspired to play with their toy Toothless (a Night Fury) and other soft toys that fancied being dragons. They dramatically re-enacted the film's spectacular flying sequences all round the living room and garden.

I suggested they might like to draw their own dragons - like Hiccup (the hero of the story). Buddy and Daisy were very keen to do this; they thought the drawings could be pages from the film's How to Train Your Dragon manual.

The paper, I was told, would have to look old - so last night we carried out the classic tea-staining technique. We used cream-coloured card, and after a spot of teabag painting we aged it by scrunching it up whilst soggy.

This morning, when it was dry, I singed the paper's edges to make it look even older.

Daisy got stuck in to her drawing straight after breakfast and was finished well before Buddy had even remembered our plans from last night. And what a fabulous dragon she has created (pictured below).

I knew there was a good chance Buddy wouldn't want to draw a dragon at all this morning. So I just left out the paper and pens. Sometimes this is the right thing for him - he often circles an activity and eventually swoops down and joins in in his own time. Sure enough, he took his time today.

But as you can see below Buddy eventually did draw a dragon - two in fact.

So how did I persuade him?

Well, I didn't. Music did. I played the soundtrack once more and suddenly he was all about the dragons again. He came and sat down and began drawing with great gusto. And while he drew he told me all about his dragons with the stirring Celtic music in the background, setting the scene perfectly.

And that - for Buddy, anyway - is how to draw your dragon.

[Buddy dressed up as the heroic Hiccup on World Book Day.]

The flu and the flying saucers

Last week I had such dreadful flu that I was out for the count for two days. As I emerged from my duvet cocoon, no longer delirious with fever but feeling rather ropey nonetheless, it was apparent that Bud and Daisy needed some fresh air, exercise and entertainment. I needed to pull something out of the hat. And fast. Here's how it happened in four fast-thinking steps:

1. I spotted two black polystyrene pizza bases ready for the recycling box (note to self: someone's been cooking ready-made pizza in my bedridden absence).

2. PING! - idea: they'd make great lightweight frisbees for Buddy and Daisy to throw around the garden (note to self: I will stay inside).

3. I remembered some shiny 'space-themed' collage bits and bobs from a craft activity a while back. Thankfully I found those quite easily and popped them onto our craft table along with a couple of glue sticks and some glitter.

4. 'Don't suppose anyone wants one of these special night time frisbees to decorate and play with do they?' My question was deliberately casual to entice my eldest, a most reluctant participator if he catches the merest whiff of craft.

Ta DAH!

This was the starting point to a wonderfully creative evening that could have been fraught with illness, misery and a whole lot of empty TV watching.

First there was some brilliant independent frisbee-making. I was barely acknowledged; I just drank water and hugged a hot water bottle. Then, keen to get outside to test out their flying saucers, Buddy and Daisy put on their shoes and coats. And yes - they did this all by themselves; that certainly doesn't happen in the mornings before school.

Excitedly and noisily, they threw their frisbees around and pretty soon some dramatic play developed with baddies and rockets, space exploration and planet hopping. I threw out their glowing glitter balls (recent presents from my aunty) and a whole new chapter began as I sat inside in the warm with a Lemsip.

You've got to love creativity. See how it can get you out of a tight spot and into a magical evening of high speed space travel round the garden galaxy? A classic adventure at home, just when we really needed one.

Make or break

Your eyes are not deceiving you - yes, this was a kettle in a previous life, albeit a broken one destined for the Recycling Centre. Over the weekend my children saved and transformed it into this fantastic model spaceship.

While I was grumpily trying to find something at the bottom of our very messy boiler cupboard I spotted the electrical appliance and handed it over to Buddy. I suggested he might fancy taking it apart to see how it had been made. Well, I can't remember the last time his eyes lit up so brightly. Buddy is usually my more reluctant participator when it comes to making things. But here was an opportunity to break a thing and I'd clearly hit on something good. Very good.

With total absorption and enthusiasm Buddy got to grips with the screwdriver, disassembling the kettle and talking animatedly about its component parts and their function. Of course I had to help with the screws, some were a little tight and inaccessible but we managed somehow. I was truly impressed by his interest and momentum; he wanted to remove every last screw, shining his torch and inspecting his work in such a professional manner.

Of course it wasn't long before Miss Daisy wanted to get in on the activity. She was particularly keen to help Buddy make the kettle into something new.

So with the help of a newly acquired glue-gun we spent a very happy half hour putting back every last screw and washer, handle and tube in an altogether different way.

Buddy: It's a model spaceship from Star Wars, it's a goody one. It's got a baddy pod here; that red thing. They get shooted off when they've learned their lesson. Into their base. But they're just kidding.

Daisy: That's the way out, that's the way in. And those screw-things are landers.

It is with thanks to the lovely Irresistible Ideas For Play Based Learning people that I owe this post - this whole activity actually. They recently wrote about letting their preschoolers loose on some old clocks. They re-made them into the most amazing time-machine sculptures. Without their reassurance that you can use glue-guns with small children I don't think I would have been brave enough to embark on this venture at all. I'm so glad we did, and we'll definitely do it again - we're already on the look-out for other broken appliances.

The ugly bug ball

What with computer shenanigans and birthday party organisation it's been ages since my last post. The PC is now repaired and Daisy has firmly celebrated being four years old, so here I am again at last.

Today I've been working at the Geffrye Museum running a family creative workshop. I've led this session many times before but it differs greatly depending on who turns up. This morning, with twenty chirpy 2, 3 and 4 year olds and babes-in-arms too, it was a very noisy, musical and fun affair.

We started with action songs and rhymes about things-that-move, including the creepy-crawlies living in the Geffrye Museum gardens. Then we investigated a heap of toy insects and bugs. Drawing round these on paper and adding colour was a fun way to look closely at creepy-crawly physiology and to talk to each other about how the creatures might move about.

More songs using puppets and a story - 10 Wriggly Wiggly Caterpillars - helped us focus on the amazing caterpillar to butterfly phenomenon. By this time the children were totally up for becoming beetles and butterflies themselves. Each child decorated a set of neoprene wings with pieces of tissue, foil, sticky circles, stars and lace, taking inspiration from images of colourful butterflies and highly decorated beetles.

These wings are so lightweight they can be easily paper-clipped to children's clothing at the shoulder. When everyone was beautifully be-winged we flitted, fluttered, crawled and wiggled to the music of the Ugly Bug Ball.

And a happy time we'll have there

One and all

At the Ugly Bug Ball.

Draw, make and play... your own way

I note with interest that the strap line on the CBeebies Art magazine is, 'Draw, make and play... the CBeebies way! And boy, do they mean it.

I find this art and craft magazine aimed at children rather unsatisfying, irritating actually. It is too prescriptive and too detailed for my liking. It has play tips and tidy tips, idea tips and making tips, and its design is overwhelming with every page telling you to get stickers from one place, to stick them on another, to cut here, to fold there, to do this, to colour that. It tries to be the canvas for the art activities as well. There's just too much going on; so much text and too many messages. And it also manages to be patronising, for example, one of the pages has a picture of a submarine to cut out. Its text explains, 'Make a submarine to play with.' I'm so glad they told me it was for my children to play with. What would we have done without that handy hint?

Surely this way of making stuff is just a lesson for parents in how to follow a set of instructions. I find it hard to see where the creativity is in that. Daisy confidently takes what she wants from these magazines and tangentially creates just what she fancies. But my five year old (a reluctant crafter at best) is totally turned off by them; getting him to make things has to be achieved by a stealth approach, so this magazine is a big no-no for him. There must be children and grown-ups who enjoy this way of making things but for me it just doesn't leave any space for nurturing children's creativity. At all.

However, this weekend we happened upon one such publication. Having been ignored by both my children, I tore off its 'free gift' bag and spread the contents attractively on our table to see if either of them would bite. And the picture you see above was the result; a rather lovely collage made by my three year old Daisy. Look closely and you can see that everything is pre-cut and pre-themed. All the materials were supposed to be used to make an underwater mobile - with a set of instructions on how to make it, of course. But she took one look at the pile of goodies and announced it was going to be 'an under-the-sea picture.'

She then put her own plan into action and it was a far more creative and satisfying an activity for it. Daisy herself decided how to use the materials. In fact, if you look even closer at the photograph you can see her picture's story - which emerged with commentary as she built up the collage.

'The shark is just about to eat the baby starfish, its mummy is swimming in to save her. There is the seaweed, and this blue shiny bit is the deepest dark sea. And look, these bubble stickers go here and here, so all the sea creatures are doing parp-parps.'

Love it.