It’s Not All Mary Poppins

Lateral thinking

Anna has taken a fancy to our nesting/stacking cups these days. They have been out every day, hours at a stretch. Who says toddlers have short attention spans?

Oh, sure. When you want them to sit at the table for an entire meal, attention span is a problem. Try putting on socks or have that diaper changed, and there are forty-seven other things that must be done NOW!

But. Give them something riveting to do, something like putting the dog’s food, kibble by kibble, into the dog’s water, or stuffing 500 pieces of lego under the couch cushions? Anyone notice a whole lot of inability to focus when they’re trying to get your attention when you’re on the phone?

So… the stacking cups are big this week.


So far, they have been beds for her babies.
You think those are cookie cutters in there, I know.
You’d be wrong.
They are babies.
“Baby Mika, and Baby Boo-boo.”
I have no idea which is which.
I’m not sure Anna does, either.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
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They have been cups for lemonade.
Lemonade which needs much vigorous stirring with those spoons you see jutting out of the cups.
Spoons which miraculously morph into straws when the time comes to drink said lemonade.
You thought they were train tracks, I know.
You’d be wrong.
.
.
.
.
.


They have been sorting cups.
See?
Red pigs in the red cup,
blue pigs in the blue cup,
green pigs in the green cup?
(I taught her how to sort.
I am so proud.)
I know, you thought those were bears.
You’d be wrong.
.
.

They have been stuffed full of playdough, and have been cakes and cookies and toads.
Cakes, cookies and toads all look like lumps of playdough stuffed into a cup to me.
I’d be wrong.
She ‘eats’ the cakes and cookies.
She shares them with her friends.
She does not eat the toads.
Nor does she share them.
She just pokes them full of holes with a pudgy finger.
“There, toad! And THERE!”

She lines them up on a stair,
and plonks herself down in front of them
(Yes, those are her jammies.
Some mornings are like that.)
.
.
.
.
.
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And plays the drums.
You might think that’s a drumstick in her hand.
You’d be wrong.
It’s a rattle.
I might think she’s pretending the rattle is a drumstick.
I’d be wrong.
“I’m hitting the drums with a rattle,
because I don’t have a good drumstick.”

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September 8, 2008 - Posted by | Anna, quirks and quirkiness, random and odd | , , , ,

7 Comments »

  1. can I come and play at your house!

    Comment by jenny uk | September 8, 2008 | Reply

  2. Loved it. Esp. the end. ‘Cuz you know, that’s a rattle, NOT a drumstick!

    Comment by Ms. Huis Herself | September 8, 2008 | Reply

  3. Awesome! I’m being such a good stay-at-home-mom now instead of daycare owner…I brought kindergarten teacher’s cutting of laminated “things” home to cut for her and got my son some baby scissors and he is cutting construction paper and I can watch him to make sure he doesn’t cut anything important..like my new sofa!

    Comment by Jerri Ann | September 8, 2008 | Reply

  4. That’s just lovely.

    Comment by Bridgett | September 8, 2008 | Reply

  5. Imagination is amazing when allowed to flow freely!

    Comment by Jill in Atlanta | September 8, 2008 | Reply

  6. Of course, if you were a pre-school carer in this country, you’d be too busy ticking off things on a checklist to let children have free play and use their imagination. Our government thinks that pigs grow faster the more they are weighed.

    Comment by Z | September 8, 2008 | Reply

  7. sounds like my guys with the boggle cubes and some mardi gras necklaces! too cute!

    Comment by Dana | September 9, 2008 | Reply


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