My eight-year-old is always climbing something he shouldn’t. This is not a metaphor. There is, at any given moment, a specific thing – a wall, a tree, a structure that was clearly not designed for children – that he is either currently climbing or has recently climbed or is calculating how to climb. For a…
My son grabbed a toy from his cousin. I said share please. He looked at me and held it tighter. I said it again. Still nothing. I probably said it five more times that afternoon in various configurations. Louder. Softer. With a warning attached. Nothing changed. It took me an embarrassingly long time to understand…
I don’t remember when this started but at some point I started looking things up before we went. The name of the tree at the end of the path. The bird that visits the same spot most mornings. What that fungus is called, the one on the log they always walk past. I was ready….
There is a particular kind of parental guilt that sets in when your child will not play independently. It usually sounds like: Am I not present enough? Am I too present? Have I done too much for her? Not enough? Should I be doing a special activity? Should we have fewer toys? Better toys? Have I…
One of mine by my social surrounding tends to be considered “a lot”. I say this with complete love and at times I used to say it with almost complete exhaustion. During those times, in moments, I considered him “a lot” too. And he is more, in every direction. More feeling, more noticing, more reacting,…
When people talk about the research on children and outdoor play, they tend to mean vitamin D. Fresh air. Exercise. The general benefit of not being inside. These things are real. The sunlight matters. The movement matters. But they are not the most significant findings in the research. The most significant findings are different –…
Nature-based parenting sounds like a particular kind of afternoon. Unhurried and present. Children moving freely through a landscape while a calm adult observes from a thoughtful distance. Somebody probably has mud on their face. Somebody is building something. The light is doing something beautiful. This version exists. We have had it. We have also had…
At some point I packed a bag before we left. Nature bingo. A magnifying glass. A little printed sheet with pictures of things we might spot. It was laminated, which in hindsight tells you everything about how that went. The children ignored all of it immediately and spent forty minutes moving gravel from one side…
On paper, we were doing it right. Football on Tuesday. Swimming on Thursday. Forest school every other Friday. Weekends with destinations. A reasonable amount of mud. If someone had asked whether my children spent enough time outside, I would have said yes without hesitating. I had the calendar to prove it. Several sessions, colour-coded, recurring….
People sometimes ask what our mornings look like. I think after hearing we like to live life slow they expect something lovely. A calm kitchen. Natural light. Warm drinks. Children in a state of quiet contentment, moving gently toward the door. The reality is different. Someone is always looking for a sock. Not both socks….