Our Pōhutukawa tamariki have packed a great deal into the last few months. Some of it has been quiet and ordinary, like a walk down to the bakery on a cold morning. Some of it has been gloriously messy. All of it has been learning.
Here is a look at what they have been up to.
Morning trips to Bennett’s
A fluffy and a freshly baked scone at Bennett’s has become one of the highlights of the week. The walk down is half the point of it. Hi-vis vests go on, the pushchairs come out, and off we go through the village.
There is a footpath to navigate, a road to cross safely, and plenty to notice along the way. By the time everyone is settled with a warm cup in hand, they have already practised far more than they realise.
A fluffy at Bennett’s, well earned after the walk down.
Sand, shells and diggers
The sandpit and the tuff tray have been busy. Some days it is castles decorated with shells and fern fronds, arranged with a good deal of care. Other days it is a fleet of diggers and a serious excavation project.
Sand is one of those materials that never runs out of possibilities. It pours, it packs, it holds a shape and then it does not. Working all of that out takes real concentration, and tamariki get to grips with volume, balance and cause and effect without anyone needing to name any of it for them.
Shells and fern fronds, a busy tray, and a serious excavation project.
Water, bubbles and wet sleeves
Add water and everything changes. The trucks that were digging in the sand are suddenly being washed, sunk and rescued, and a tray of bubbles turns into an afternoon’s work.
There is a lot going on in a tray of soapy water. Floating and sinking, scooping and pouring, and the quiet focus that comes with all of it. Wet sleeves are simply part of the deal, and we would rather a wet jumper than a child who missed out.
Everything that was digging in the sand ends up in here.
Paint underfoot
Paint walking is exactly what it sounds like. A long roll of paper down the grass, paint at one end, and bare feet.
It is a favourite for good reason. Feeling paint underfoot is a completely different experience from feeling it on your fingers, and watching your own footprints appear behind you is a small kind of magic. It gets everyone moving, balancing and taking turns along a narrow path as well.
One behind the other, all the way down the grass.
Gloop and other messy business
Gloop deserves a mention of its own. It is liquid when it sits still and solid the moment you squeeze it, and it will happily cover a person from head to toe. That is rather the point.
Not every child wants to be covered in it, and that is completely fine. For tamariki who would rather explore mess from a small distance, we make up sensory bags. Paint, beads, cotton wool and playdough sealed inside a bag give all the same colour and squish with none of the commitment. Everyone gets to join in on their own terms.
Gloop is liquid until you squeeze it. The bags offer the same squish with none of the commitment.
An afternoon with a lamb
And then there was the lamb. A lamb came to spend an afternoon with us, and it was every bit as lovely as it sounds. There was gentle patting, a great deal of watching, and a steady stream of questions.
Our afternoon visitor.
Moments like that are hard to plan for and impossible to recreate indoors. Being close to a real animal, and learning to be calm and gentle around something so small, is a lesson that lands entirely on its own.
Learning by doing
None of this is decoration. Play, exploration and real experiences are how young children make sense of the world, and they are how we teach.
A fluffy at the bakery is a lesson in belonging to a community. A tray of wet sand is early science. A lamb on the grass is empathy. Our tamariki are not waiting until they are older to start learning. They are doing it right now, with sandy hands and paint on their feet.
