Tampilkan postingan dengan label sensory processing disorder. Tampilkan semua postingan
Tampilkan postingan dengan label sensory processing disorder. Tampilkan semua postingan
I've always loved St. Patrick's Day....maybe because I was one of the few in my elementary school classes that could claim ownership of the day when we found green tempera leprechaun footprints on our desks....maybe because it's such a fun and fanciful, quick and easy, stress-free holiday...maybe because my half-Irish blood runs so deep that I can't NOT love it....

Or maybe it's because St. Patrick's Day, which falls just barely on the Lamb side of this bipolar month, marks the gateway into spring. I know that that's truer this year....the year of the bitterly cold, polar-vortexed, TEN SNOW DAYS, endless winter...than ever before.

And so yesterday....the 40-degree, first back-to-school day of the week, I decided it was time to start celebrating. Time to hang up the welcome banner to let St. Patrick's Day, and Spring, know that it's time. We're ready for you. Come on in.

Really. Seriously.

Come in, take off your shoes and get comfy. Stay for a nice loooooooonnngg while. 

***
First order of business in celebrating a new season in this house: A New Sensory Bin

I just love this St. Patrick's Day sensory bin.


We started by dying rice...TEN POUNDS of rice. 
In other words, my 1-month old baby nephew's weight in rice.
[That's a lot of rice. You'll want a nice big bin.]

We divided the rice evenly into 6 ziplock bags, so we could make rice in every color of the rainbow. We added a little squirt of rubbing alcohol and a few drops of food coloring to color the rice. Have the kids squish and shake the bag around until the rice is evenly-colored. Leave the bags open overnight to let the rice dry out.


Assemble the rest of the bin:
Wagon wheel pasta, which we had colored yellow, as the leprechaun's gold coins.
(Then Max found our "real" gold coins when we got out our St. Patrick's Day decorations bin....so we added those, too.)
Rainbow erasers, found in the party section at Target
Scoops
Funnels
Containers
Shakers

So pretty.

Molly was hesitant to mix the colors at first. 



I don't blame her. She probably felt like I did the first time I saw Evan mixing his Lego Ninjago pieces with his Lego Police pieces. You know....heart racing, palms sweating, shortness of breath...
I'm sure that's perfectly normal.


She preferred instead to scoop one color at a time...


Then I showed her how to take her finger and mix the colors....just a bit...

Baby steps to allowing chaos in play....she's getting there.
We both are.

Her first self-apointed task: Sorting.
Rainbows in here...


Gold coins in here...


Wagon wheels in here...


Everything in it's place.

***
There was a lot of talking during the 40 minutes that we played with the bin this morning. We talked a lot about colors (Molly knew them all...and was so proud to repeat them over and over), a lot about "shiny," a lot about "pour/dump/scoop," and a lot about "rainbows hiding" under the rice. This was the first time since Max was little that I had the chance to see how sensory play is such a language-rich play experience for toddlers. 

It's so amazing to see how the same activity can change so much from one month to another when the players are so little.

***

Beyond sorting and talking, there was a little bit of pouring...a little bit of mixing....

...and then we picked Max up from school.
Give this kid a sensory bin and about half a second?


Mission: Chaos in the Sensory Bin...
Accomplished.


Molly has such a task-oriented, methodical, fine-motor style to her sensory play.
Max tends to dive in, with an open mind and his entire body.

They work well together, though...Max encouraged Molly to do more pouring, scooping, and digging.
And Molly yelled "Uh-oh, Max!" every time a few pieces of rice fell out of the bin.

A girl after my own Type-A self.
Poor thing.

Lesson Learned:
The Spring Welcome Banner is officially waving.
I'm so over you, Winter.

make-your-own St. Patrick's Day sensory bin

Posted at  12.31 - by Unknown

I've always loved St. Patrick's Day....maybe because I was one of the few in my elementary school classes that could claim ownership of the day when we found green tempera leprechaun footprints on our desks....maybe because it's such a fun and fanciful, quick and easy, stress-free holiday...maybe because my half-Irish blood runs so deep that I can't NOT love it....

Or maybe it's because St. Patrick's Day, which falls just barely on the Lamb side of this bipolar month, marks the gateway into spring. I know that that's truer this year....the year of the bitterly cold, polar-vortexed, TEN SNOW DAYS, endless winter...than ever before.

And so yesterday....the 40-degree, first back-to-school day of the week, I decided it was time to start celebrating. Time to hang up the welcome banner to let St. Patrick's Day, and Spring, know that it's time. We're ready for you. Come on in.

Really. Seriously.

Come in, take off your shoes and get comfy. Stay for a nice loooooooonnngg while. 

***
First order of business in celebrating a new season in this house: A New Sensory Bin

I just love this St. Patrick's Day sensory bin.


We started by dying rice...TEN POUNDS of rice. 
In other words, my 1-month old baby nephew's weight in rice.
[That's a lot of rice. You'll want a nice big bin.]

We divided the rice evenly into 6 ziplock bags, so we could make rice in every color of the rainbow. We added a little squirt of rubbing alcohol and a few drops of food coloring to color the rice. Have the kids squish and shake the bag around until the rice is evenly-colored. Leave the bags open overnight to let the rice dry out.


Assemble the rest of the bin:
Wagon wheel pasta, which we had colored yellow, as the leprechaun's gold coins.
(Then Max found our "real" gold coins when we got out our St. Patrick's Day decorations bin....so we added those, too.)
Rainbow erasers, found in the party section at Target
Scoops
Funnels
Containers
Shakers

So pretty.

Molly was hesitant to mix the colors at first. 



I don't blame her. She probably felt like I did the first time I saw Evan mixing his Lego Ninjago pieces with his Lego Police pieces. You know....heart racing, palms sweating, shortness of breath...
I'm sure that's perfectly normal.


She preferred instead to scoop one color at a time...


Then I showed her how to take her finger and mix the colors....just a bit...

Baby steps to allowing chaos in play....she's getting there.
We both are.

Her first self-apointed task: Sorting.
Rainbows in here...


Gold coins in here...


Wagon wheels in here...


Everything in it's place.

***
There was a lot of talking during the 40 minutes that we played with the bin this morning. We talked a lot about colors (Molly knew them all...and was so proud to repeat them over and over), a lot about "shiny," a lot about "pour/dump/scoop," and a lot about "rainbows hiding" under the rice. This was the first time since Max was little that I had the chance to see how sensory play is such a language-rich play experience for toddlers. 

It's so amazing to see how the same activity can change so much from one month to another when the players are so little.

***

Beyond sorting and talking, there was a little bit of pouring...a little bit of mixing....

...and then we picked Max up from school.
Give this kid a sensory bin and about half a second?


Mission: Chaos in the Sensory Bin...
Accomplished.


Molly has such a task-oriented, methodical, fine-motor style to her sensory play.
Max tends to dive in, with an open mind and his entire body.

They work well together, though...Max encouraged Molly to do more pouring, scooping, and digging.
And Molly yelled "Uh-oh, Max!" every time a few pieces of rice fell out of the bin.

A girl after my own Type-A self.
Poor thing.

Lesson Learned:
The Spring Welcome Banner is officially waving.
I'm so over you, Winter.

We all know the new food rules:

1. Offer a variety of healthy foods and the child will, eventually, eat when he's hungry. (So don't stress if he skips a meal.)
2. Don't use food as a reward. (So don't say, "Eat two more bites of dinner and you can have a treat.")
3. Eliminate the phrase "Clean Plate Club" from your vocabulary. (Teach your child to eat until he is satisfied, not until all of the food is gone.)

We know them. But, man, do I suck at following them.

We have struggled with "Evan and food" since he had his anaphylactic reaction to milk at 10 months old. Because he was severely allergic to dairy (simply touching crumbs from a Goldfish cracker was enough to produce full-body hives) and peanuts (reactivity unknown), as well as being moderately allergic to ELEVEN other foods, we were pretty particular about the food that he ate and even with which he had contact.

I was on high alert around food all the time.

He's outgrown almost all of his allergies (except for milk and peanuts) but his diet hasn't expanded the way we had hoped it might. Evan has some pretty significant sensory issues when it came to food.  Even at six and a half years old, he has yet to ever put a cooked noodle into his mouth. Rice? Forget it. Cereal with (hemp) milk? Never. I'm pretty sure his taste and smell senses are set to Max Power because he can sniff out the tiniest bit of sauce or seasoning from a mile away. And reject it.

He's also been at the very bottom of the weight scale since he was a year old. He's super duper skinny. He's "chicken-legs skinny." He's like me. I was so skinny as a kid that this one mean girl used to tell me that I looked like the orphans they show on TV. She said that kids, like me, who are skinny grow up to be fat grown-ups so I better not get too skinny which, she went on to say, I already was.

And it's not just kids who can be insensitive about the "s" word....When I was nursing my food-allergic baby, so following his same restricted diet, I lost all of my baby weight--and then some, way too fast. The comments I heard from people telling me that I looked sick, that I can't possibly take care of a baby if I'm not first taking care of myself, etc. were pretty shocking. One person said, "You probably have Celiac's [sic]. Just look at you." Wow.

So, I do stress when he skips a meal. (I'm pretty sure he would survive on a daily diet of a waffle, a banana, and four pretzels if we let him.)

We do make him eat his meal before having his treat. (We mostly say, "If you're not hungry for dinner then you can't possibly be hungry for a treat." But we've been known to say the bit about "more bites.")

And, man do we ever make a huge deal over his rare clean plate. (We say things like, "Wow! Great job nourishing your body, bud!" or "You sure were hungry--your brain and muscles must be growing!" but it's the same thing as that stupid club, really.)

I've hit numerous low points, where I know I'm making a bigger deal of food and eating than I should....like....[Confession Time]....when I told him he couldn't watch Lego videos on the iPad until he finished his smoothie. Yup. That was Thursday afternoon after a week of full lunch boxes and hardly-touched dinners. It probably violated every Healthy Eating rule out there, but you know what? It worked. On both Thursday and Friday afternoons, Evan (reluctantly) gulped down a spinach/berry/yogurt-packed smoothie AND ate dinner. Sometimes I think he lets his tummy get so empty that he doesn't even know when he does feel hungry. I find that the more I force encourage him to eat, the more he actually eats on his own.

So...sorry, not sorry, Food Rules. I'm rewriting you (for this kid and for this moment, anyway):


1. I will offer Evan a variety of healthy foods and he will, eventually, eat when he's hungry. And if he doesn't, I will withhold screen time until he downs a smoothie. 
2. I won't use food as a reward, unless I've hidden beets in those chocolate muffins, then he can have one after he eats three more bites of chicken (which I have already scraped clean of the sauce).
3. I will eliminate the phrase "Clean Plate Club" from our vocabulary. Okay, this Rule can stay. We don't have a members-only policy at our dinner table...but you can bet there's a secret handshake high five or two exchanged when our bodies are filled with goodness.

Lesson Learned:
We don't comment on size or appearance except to say "Look how much you've grown!" when comparing marks on our growth chart. (And the occasional "People come in all different shapes and sizes" response to an embarrassingly observant 3-year old's comment in line at Target.)

We do comment on what different foods do for our bodies...we identify parts of our meals as fruits, veggies, grains, protein, and "extras" (ketchup!). We talk about the vitamins and nutrients found in different foods and why it's important to have some of each.

We don't force them to eat. If Evan does not prefer to eat the roasted broccoli on his plate, he can choose carrot sticks from the veggies and hummus plate in the center of the table. If that means that the only veggie he EVER eats is carrots, so be it. (That's why scientists invented smoothies and hiding veggies in muffins.)


We do know that, eventually, even the pickiest eater will come around and enjoy a more well-rounded and balanced diet....and if he doesn't, then at least by then he'll be in charge of cooking for himself and I won't have to hear about it.

Off to make some smoothies!

the one about food

Posted at  11.54 - by Unknown

We all know the new food rules:

1. Offer a variety of healthy foods and the child will, eventually, eat when he's hungry. (So don't stress if he skips a meal.)
2. Don't use food as a reward. (So don't say, "Eat two more bites of dinner and you can have a treat.")
3. Eliminate the phrase "Clean Plate Club" from your vocabulary. (Teach your child to eat until he is satisfied, not until all of the food is gone.)

We know them. But, man, do I suck at following them.

We have struggled with "Evan and food" since he had his anaphylactic reaction to milk at 10 months old. Because he was severely allergic to dairy (simply touching crumbs from a Goldfish cracker was enough to produce full-body hives) and peanuts (reactivity unknown), as well as being moderately allergic to ELEVEN other foods, we were pretty particular about the food that he ate and even with which he had contact.

I was on high alert around food all the time.

He's outgrown almost all of his allergies (except for milk and peanuts) but his diet hasn't expanded the way we had hoped it might. Evan has some pretty significant sensory issues when it came to food.  Even at six and a half years old, he has yet to ever put a cooked noodle into his mouth. Rice? Forget it. Cereal with (hemp) milk? Never. I'm pretty sure his taste and smell senses are set to Max Power because he can sniff out the tiniest bit of sauce or seasoning from a mile away. And reject it.

He's also been at the very bottom of the weight scale since he was a year old. He's super duper skinny. He's "chicken-legs skinny." He's like me. I was so skinny as a kid that this one mean girl used to tell me that I looked like the orphans they show on TV. She said that kids, like me, who are skinny grow up to be fat grown-ups so I better not get too skinny which, she went on to say, I already was.

And it's not just kids who can be insensitive about the "s" word....When I was nursing my food-allergic baby, so following his same restricted diet, I lost all of my baby weight--and then some, way too fast. The comments I heard from people telling me that I looked sick, that I can't possibly take care of a baby if I'm not first taking care of myself, etc. were pretty shocking. One person said, "You probably have Celiac's [sic]. Just look at you." Wow.

So, I do stress when he skips a meal. (I'm pretty sure he would survive on a daily diet of a waffle, a banana, and four pretzels if we let him.)

We do make him eat his meal before having his treat. (We mostly say, "If you're not hungry for dinner then you can't possibly be hungry for a treat." But we've been known to say the bit about "more bites.")

And, man do we ever make a huge deal over his rare clean plate. (We say things like, "Wow! Great job nourishing your body, bud!" or "You sure were hungry--your brain and muscles must be growing!" but it's the same thing as that stupid club, really.)

I've hit numerous low points, where I know I'm making a bigger deal of food and eating than I should....like....[Confession Time]....when I told him he couldn't watch Lego videos on the iPad until he finished his smoothie. Yup. That was Thursday afternoon after a week of full lunch boxes and hardly-touched dinners. It probably violated every Healthy Eating rule out there, but you know what? It worked. On both Thursday and Friday afternoons, Evan (reluctantly) gulped down a spinach/berry/yogurt-packed smoothie AND ate dinner. Sometimes I think he lets his tummy get so empty that he doesn't even know when he does feel hungry. I find that the more I force encourage him to eat, the more he actually eats on his own.

So...sorry, not sorry, Food Rules. I'm rewriting you (for this kid and for this moment, anyway):


1. I will offer Evan a variety of healthy foods and he will, eventually, eat when he's hungry. And if he doesn't, I will withhold screen time until he downs a smoothie. 
2. I won't use food as a reward, unless I've hidden beets in those chocolate muffins, then he can have one after he eats three more bites of chicken (which I have already scraped clean of the sauce).
3. I will eliminate the phrase "Clean Plate Club" from our vocabulary. Okay, this Rule can stay. We don't have a members-only policy at our dinner table...but you can bet there's a secret handshake high five or two exchanged when our bodies are filled with goodness.

Lesson Learned:
We don't comment on size or appearance except to say "Look how much you've grown!" when comparing marks on our growth chart. (And the occasional "People come in all different shapes and sizes" response to an embarrassingly observant 3-year old's comment in line at Target.)

We do comment on what different foods do for our bodies...we identify parts of our meals as fruits, veggies, grains, protein, and "extras" (ketchup!). We talk about the vitamins and nutrients found in different foods and why it's important to have some of each.

We don't force them to eat. If Evan does not prefer to eat the roasted broccoli on his plate, he can choose carrot sticks from the veggies and hummus plate in the center of the table. If that means that the only veggie he EVER eats is carrots, so be it. (That's why scientists invented smoothies and hiding veggies in muffins.)


We do know that, eventually, even the pickiest eater will come around and enjoy a more well-rounded and balanced diet....and if he doesn't, then at least by then he'll be in charge of cooking for himself and I won't have to hear about it.

Off to make some smoothies!

Well, kind of creepy. Mostly just "festive."

But, there has been an alarming increase in the number of disturbingly large and realistic plastic spiders in our house lately, so I'll stand by Creepy.

Now that November is right around the corner, we're no longer dressing up as princesses for Max's Princess Party, we're in formal attire, police officer uniforms, tiger suits, and Witch's Hats for the upcoming celebration of All Hallow's Eve.


My two littlest witches and I started our day today at Max's preschool to do one of our favorite Halloween (or anytime) light table activities: Witch's Brew. I started my brief return to the front of the class by reading a new book to the kiddos that has easily become one of our family's most-read Halloween books, Room on the Broom. Because it's about a witch, and I was dressed in my witch costume, I pretended the main character and I were friends. I was in character. It made sense to me. One little girl in the class, though, was not buying it. "You're not really friends," she started, "I mean you don't even have the same color witch hat." Touche, little one.

During Choice Time, the kids each had a turn to come over to Clare's wonderful new light panel to mix up their own witchy potion concoctions.






 They did a wonderful job. And, while the big kids were busy coloring and mixing, little Molly just made herself right at home in the classroom. She took care of a sick cow at the Veterinary Clinic, she cooked in the kitchen with a buddy, she mucked in the gak in the art studio, she built a fairy block tower with Max's BFF, and she Did. Not. Want. to leave. The poor thing is going to be devastated when she learns that I'm not going to give her up to preschool next year.

After our Witchy Morning, it was off to an afternoon of Pumpkin Carving with my first grader. But first, we had to prep our pumpkin for carving. Thursday afternoon, the kids gathered around expectantly as I cut the top off of our pumpkin. I peeled it off for the big reveal.....and they all gagged. They couldn't get over the smell. After the initial reaction, I had little hope of having any help scooping out the guts, and I was right. They wouldn't reach in. So. I scooped the guts. Then, I tried to gather some help separating the seeds from the goop. Yeah, right. So. I separated the seeds.  I did get the boys to agree to making their "How Many Seeds Are In The Pumpkin" guesses...(Max: 100, Evan: 101---he's going to kick ass at Price Is Right someday). And I did force them to help me count the seeds....
(Final result: 511!) Here's a great way to count large quantities with kids: lay out a huge roll of paper and draw a bunch of large-ish circles. Count 10 seeds (or whatever you're counting) into each circle, then, when finished, just count by 10s.


And if your sensory kid puts up a fight because the seeds are too slimy, give him a spoon and put him to work.


So. I cut the pumpkin. I scooped out the guts. I separated the seeds. I washed the seeds. And I seasoned and roasted the seeds. And, like the Little Red Hen before me, I did it alone. But when it was time to eat the seeds? Yup. They all loved them. (Unlike the Little Red Hen though, I shared, because, OHMYGOD! Is Evan TRYING A NEW FOOD?!)

So, pumpkin prepped and seeds devoured, we were ready for a Friday afternoon Pumpkin Carving party. But what's a Pumpkin Carving party without snacks, though, right? I couldn't resist drawing up a bunch of these adorable little clementine Jack-o-Lanterns to go with the popcorn and candy that the other parents contributed. I mean, look at them.


 Evan's buddy helped us carve our pumpkin. They, quite democratically, agreed upon a face and took turns carving.



Final verdict?
Evan says, "Scary." His buddy said, "Nah, he's silly." Evan insists: "No. He's scary. See those teeth I gave him? Those aren't just any teeth....they're PIRATE TEETH." 
"Oh," she said, "I didn't know that. Yeah, he's scary."


And, it may not be Halloweeny, but would you just look at this girl?
We sat for a tea party the other day....
The light was perfect.
She was, and is, gorgeous. 


And I'll tell her so every single day.


Lesson Learned:
Happy Halloween!

things are getting creeeeeeeeepy

Posted at  18.39 - by Unknown

Well, kind of creepy. Mostly just "festive."

But, there has been an alarming increase in the number of disturbingly large and realistic plastic spiders in our house lately, so I'll stand by Creepy.

Now that November is right around the corner, we're no longer dressing up as princesses for Max's Princess Party, we're in formal attire, police officer uniforms, tiger suits, and Witch's Hats for the upcoming celebration of All Hallow's Eve.


My two littlest witches and I started our day today at Max's preschool to do one of our favorite Halloween (or anytime) light table activities: Witch's Brew. I started my brief return to the front of the class by reading a new book to the kiddos that has easily become one of our family's most-read Halloween books, Room on the Broom. Because it's about a witch, and I was dressed in my witch costume, I pretended the main character and I were friends. I was in character. It made sense to me. One little girl in the class, though, was not buying it. "You're not really friends," she started, "I mean you don't even have the same color witch hat." Touche, little one.

During Choice Time, the kids each had a turn to come over to Clare's wonderful new light panel to mix up their own witchy potion concoctions.






 They did a wonderful job. And, while the big kids were busy coloring and mixing, little Molly just made herself right at home in the classroom. She took care of a sick cow at the Veterinary Clinic, she cooked in the kitchen with a buddy, she mucked in the gak in the art studio, she built a fairy block tower with Max's BFF, and she Did. Not. Want. to leave. The poor thing is going to be devastated when she learns that I'm not going to give her up to preschool next year.

After our Witchy Morning, it was off to an afternoon of Pumpkin Carving with my first grader. But first, we had to prep our pumpkin for carving. Thursday afternoon, the kids gathered around expectantly as I cut the top off of our pumpkin. I peeled it off for the big reveal.....and they all gagged. They couldn't get over the smell. After the initial reaction, I had little hope of having any help scooping out the guts, and I was right. They wouldn't reach in. So. I scooped the guts. Then, I tried to gather some help separating the seeds from the goop. Yeah, right. So. I separated the seeds.  I did get the boys to agree to making their "How Many Seeds Are In The Pumpkin" guesses...(Max: 100, Evan: 101---he's going to kick ass at Price Is Right someday). And I did force them to help me count the seeds....
(Final result: 511!) Here's a great way to count large quantities with kids: lay out a huge roll of paper and draw a bunch of large-ish circles. Count 10 seeds (or whatever you're counting) into each circle, then, when finished, just count by 10s.


And if your sensory kid puts up a fight because the seeds are too slimy, give him a spoon and put him to work.


So. I cut the pumpkin. I scooped out the guts. I separated the seeds. I washed the seeds. And I seasoned and roasted the seeds. And, like the Little Red Hen before me, I did it alone. But when it was time to eat the seeds? Yup. They all loved them. (Unlike the Little Red Hen though, I shared, because, OHMYGOD! Is Evan TRYING A NEW FOOD?!)

So, pumpkin prepped and seeds devoured, we were ready for a Friday afternoon Pumpkin Carving party. But what's a Pumpkin Carving party without snacks, though, right? I couldn't resist drawing up a bunch of these adorable little clementine Jack-o-Lanterns to go with the popcorn and candy that the other parents contributed. I mean, look at them.


 Evan's buddy helped us carve our pumpkin. They, quite democratically, agreed upon a face and took turns carving.



Final verdict?
Evan says, "Scary." His buddy said, "Nah, he's silly." Evan insists: "No. He's scary. See those teeth I gave him? Those aren't just any teeth....they're PIRATE TEETH." 
"Oh," she said, "I didn't know that. Yeah, he's scary."


And, it may not be Halloweeny, but would you just look at this girl?
We sat for a tea party the other day....
The light was perfect.
She was, and is, gorgeous. 


And I'll tell her so every single day.


Lesson Learned:
Happy Halloween!

We've played with Water Beads before, and the kids have always had fun with them....but today, we made A TON of them. And it made all the difference....

Evan and I set up this "invitation," to borrow from Play At Home Mom, during a rare Quiet Time during which the younger two both fell asleep. We used about half of each of our blue and clear packets of water beads. 



Water beads, often used in cut-flower arrangements, can be found in the floral section of most craft stores. 


They are tiny beads that, when soaked in water for several hours, expand to marble-sized, squishy, clear gel balls that are super fun to scoop, pour, and slosh your hands through. They're also really cool to look through because, as Evan immediately pointed out, "They're kinda magical because they can turn the whole world upside down."


Or, one tiny head.


Because you could see right through them, Evan decided they would be even cooler to play with on the light table. 
He was right.




When the others woke up, we had to relocate the bin to the floor because Molly wanted to play with them All. Afternoon. And I couldn't just stand next to her while she stood up on the bench and played all day...I had things to do. Things like take 100 pictures of her playing....


...and "sorting"...



....and taking this simple sensory experience and turning it into a Full-Body Sensory Experience.



Lesson Learned:
This was a huge hit. We learned here that, sometimes, bigger....or MORE....really is just waaaaaaayyy better. So skip the mini-bin and fill up the big boy. Fill up a deep bowl with them and sink your arms up to your elbows in there. Max has already suggested that we fill the bathtub with them next time. I don't know about that....but maybe a baby pool?

Best part is, you can leave water beads out and play with them for awhile, replacing water as needed. Then, when you're ready to fill your sensory bin with something new, dry the water beads out, let them shrink back down to original size, and put them away until next time.

Water Beads! A Light and Sensory Experience

Posted at  10.21 - by Unknown

We've played with Water Beads before, and the kids have always had fun with them....but today, we made A TON of them. And it made all the difference....

Evan and I set up this "invitation," to borrow from Play At Home Mom, during a rare Quiet Time during which the younger two both fell asleep. We used about half of each of our blue and clear packets of water beads. 



Water beads, often used in cut-flower arrangements, can be found in the floral section of most craft stores. 


They are tiny beads that, when soaked in water for several hours, expand to marble-sized, squishy, clear gel balls that are super fun to scoop, pour, and slosh your hands through. They're also really cool to look through because, as Evan immediately pointed out, "They're kinda magical because they can turn the whole world upside down."


Or, one tiny head.


Because you could see right through them, Evan decided they would be even cooler to play with on the light table. 
He was right.




When the others woke up, we had to relocate the bin to the floor because Molly wanted to play with them All. Afternoon. And I couldn't just stand next to her while she stood up on the bench and played all day...I had things to do. Things like take 100 pictures of her playing....


...and "sorting"...



....and taking this simple sensory experience and turning it into a Full-Body Sensory Experience.



Lesson Learned:
This was a huge hit. We learned here that, sometimes, bigger....or MORE....really is just waaaaaaayyy better. So skip the mini-bin and fill up the big boy. Fill up a deep bowl with them and sink your arms up to your elbows in there. Max has already suggested that we fill the bathtub with them next time. I don't know about that....but maybe a baby pool?

Best part is, you can leave water beads out and play with them for awhile, replacing water as needed. Then, when you're ready to fill your sensory bin with something new, dry the water beads out, let them shrink back down to original size, and put them away until next time.

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