Collaborating on Art Projects with Little Kids

Detail of Our Ode to Spring

Collaborating on a project isn't easy. Collaborating on an art project with a 4yr old... You might think that it is impossible, but it is not. Here are 8 pointers to help you along.

1) Plan Ahead With Your Team - (Yes, I just referred to you and your child(ren) as a team. If you are going to make something together that is what you need to be.) Come up with a basic idea of what you are making, the materials you will need, the steps involved, where you will work, when you will do it, etc. This will help to get everyone invested in the project and give you a chance to organize in advance.

2) Identify Steps and Tasks - There are some things that you youngest team mates can't do but there are a whole lot of things they can. Identifying those things in advance makes redirection easy without letting it turn into a power struggle. For example: I need to be the one to use the X-Acto knife to cut here because it is very sharp, but we also need some triangles. Can you cut them with your scissors?

3) Give Them the Right Tools - If you want  small flowers don't hand them a big paint brush. If you are hoping for a garden of pink and purple, pull out those colors and leave the yellow and orange crayons in the box.

4) Let Go -  Yes, I know you have a vision of how this project is going to turn out, but so does every other member of your team. Ask open ended questions. Share your ideas. Communicate. Compromise. Create. This goes for kids and adults!

5) Plan Breaks - Not all attentions spans are created equally. Thankfully paint and glue take time to dry, creating convenient times for a break. Stretch. Have a snack. Change the music (or the baby). Take a nap. You don't need to finish in just one sitting. Remember - everything takes longer with kids, even art.


6) Check In - Every once in a while step back and look at your project. Share a complement. Ask a question (I noticed you used a different color on the belly of the bird. Why did you choose red?).

7) Resist the Impulse to 'Fix It'- Yes, it is crooked. No, it doesn't look like the one you saw on Pinterest. It was made by Your Team. It isn't 'wrong' and it doesn't need to be 'fixed'!

8) Be Proud -  Put your work on display. Encourage your child to talk about the art and the process with you and when showing others. What did they contributed and what did other team members add? What was challenging? What was new or fun? What do you want to make next?

The Latest Neighborhood Beautification Project on Display

Letters to a Home Town - My Tweenager

My Tweenager on a Family Outing

 

My Daughter the Elder just had a birthday. She turned twelve. It was a pretty standard birthday, but to hear her tell it, it was a life changing event. On that day she was thrust, (or maybe she leapt) over the threshold of childhood. Now she is an almost-but-not-quite-may-as-well-be-close-enough-can’t-you-just-say-I-am-a teen. Apparently being called a tween when you are twelve just isn’t cool.

Not much that I do is cool these days. She lives in perpetual fear that I am going to embarrass her. When she invites friends over she makes me swear that I’ll behave. When the doorbell rings she gives me that look before she answers. She takes phone calls into another room just in case I decide to play the peanut gallery and make comments on the side. I am a high risk of anti-cool.

Now that she is twelve she is making it abundantly clear that if I ever want the chance to hang out with my big girl again, I had better shape up. Peer pressure is not limited to her fellow classmates; she is muscling me. No more fart jokes. Adults aren’t supposed to think those are funny. The wardrobe; it needs some serious adjustments. And just because you know what the Harlem Shake is DOES NOT mean you can demonstrate in public!

There are of course exceptions. It is permissible to hang out at home - when no one else is around, and she isn’t on the phone, or the computer, or tablet. We can go to the store together - as long as I am buying the items of her choosing. And we can do ‘other stuff’ as long as it is far, far, far, far from home so that the chance of bumping into any of her classmates is absolutely nil.

She is, of course, making her own way into awesomeness. At twelve, it is all about the look. She has dipped into the wardrobe that her big brother left behind; freaking the tomboy style. Her short tousled hair now has a red flare thanks to some temporary dye (next week it may be purple or green). Most importantly she now has the ultimate teen accessory; for her birthday she got a phone. (This gift would have elevated me into the ranks of coolness – If I have made it – but I didn’t. The phone came from her dad thus buying him forgiveness for being seen together in public any time soon).

To spite all of the fresh effort being dedicated to cultivating cool, that day when she turned twelve wasn’t the start of it. My Daughter the Elder has been that way for a while now. She likes sushi. She is a purple belt in mixed martial arts. She gives great hugs. And she has a wonderful sense of humor. (Don’t tell anyone but sometimes she even laughs at my fart jokes.)

I hope that this letter has found you and yours in good spirits and good health. Until I write again…

Letter to a Home Town - The Seemingly Endless Journey of Potty Training

Our sleep anywhere girl...

 

It is never going to end! I am almost sure of it: Potty training is an everlasting process and I am destined to have a key role in keeping that little bottom clean for all of eternity. I know it isn’t true, but gads, it sure does feel that way. We have been actively potty training for more than half of the Figlet’s short life!

The duration is, in many ways, our own fault. The interest was there early, so we jumped at the opportunity. We set the potty up in back corner of the kitchen (the room central to it all). We had a few no pants days. Much to our surprise, it worked. It wasn’t 100% but she started using the potty pretty regularly. It was cause for celebration! We danced. We sang. We composed odes to the long forgotten diapers of yore. But then the weather got cold. Pants became more essential. She had trouble getting them down. More importantly, Figlet got bored and digressed. She wasn’t as ready as we’d hoped.

Sometimes I think that those guys that wear their pants down around their thighs are mocking me. They know how much bare bottom I have seen. Somehow they sense it. They know how happy I would be to never again have to deal with anyone rushing with pants round knees, leaving a dribble trail en route to the potty. They sense my fleeting hope of it ever ending and threaten to drop trou just to rub it in.

When warm weather arrived, her interest began to rekindle. The dusty potty in the kitchen corner saw increasingly regular use. The diaper count dwindled to half what it had once been, remaining essential only for overnights and outings. The potty traveled with us when we went away for a few days but was largely ignored. Using the potty was a home thing, which was progress. But then it wasn’t. It was just a stand still.  

When it comes to potty training, my present self laughs at the self of the recent past. You thought THAT was going to be the last case of diapers you’d buy?! You thought that pull ups would be anything more than poorly fitting diapers that are a pain to get on? You thought that calling training pants ‘fancy pants’ it would be incentive to keep them dry? You thought that you’d be done with this by now? Bwah, ha, ha! You have been through this before! You should have known that the Figlet would dash such dreams into a puddle on the floor - repeatedly!

I do know that potty training won’t last forever. The Figlet is making progress again. At home and on short outings ‘fancy pants’ are the rule. Accidents happen. When they do, I give our washing machine a little hug, the then remind myself the potty training golden rule: It will be over before her college applications are due.

I hope that this letter has found you and yours in good spirits and good health. Until I write again…

A Joke Quackin' Duck - Toddler Art Project

A Joke Quackin' Duck

Age: 2 - 5 Years (younger ones need more supervision)

Time: 10 min (+ Prep)

Theme: Ducks!

Books: Duck Sock Hop by Jane Kohuth, The Duckling Gets a Cookie?! By Mo Willems

Materials:

Dark Yellow or Orange Construction Paper
Yellow copy paper
Feathers
Star or Dot Or Heart or Other Shaped Stickers for Eyes
Glue sticks
Adult get to use Scissors

Prep: To make the duck bills, trace and cut a 6” circle from the construction paper then fold and cut into quarters. To prepare the puppets, fold a sheet of copy paper in apx. thirds long way (2-3/4 x 11). If the kids are very young you will also want to do the next steps: glue the edge closed, then fold the strip into quarters like an ‘M’ by folding in half, then folding the edges even with that fold.

Activity: Each child gets plain sheet of paper already folded into an ‘M’, a duck bill, a feather, a glue stick and some stickers. Glue the feather, then the bill onto the puppet (allowing the bill to overlap the feather will keep it from falling off easily in play). Add stickers for eyes, nostrils, beauty marks, etc. Test out your puppet then quack a joke!

Notes/Tips: The folded paper creates a pocket for fingers to go inside. Using the basic M fold, you can create other creatures by using different colored paper and features. This can become a big kid project by demonstrating the technique, then letting them design their own creatures.

 

PS. My top model decided she wanted to be on the other side of the camera for this project. The results were blurry but she got me!

Life as a 2 Year Old - Letter to a Home Town

This Letter was written about 6 months ago, but after a 40 minute stand-off regarding retrieval of some airborne art supplies earlier this week... It seems as timely as ever.

Life as a 2 Year Old

It is hard to believe, but the once Figlet about to turn two! Can it really be true?! It seems like just yesterday that I was thinking “What have I gotten myself into?!”  Now as soon as the house gets quiet I find myself wondering “What has she gotten herself into?!” Life before she came along was far from dull, but life with a 2 year old... I am being taken along on her ride through life in the impulse zone!  

To be 2 is to not be able to see even a few moments into the future. I am hungry and grumpy and you have served me food on the green plate. I wanted the blue plate and therefore this food must be emptied off the offending dinnerware. Where?! I don’t care! How about the floor! What do you mean there is no more? Can’t you see that I am hungry?

To be 2 is to always be moving on to the next best thing. Plink plunk on the piano keys. Belly flop on the beanbag chair. The baby doll needs shoes. Mom, help me put them on. I am going to chase the cat. Did you hear my 3 word sentence? I said “Cat knee ow!” Yes, I could use a mommy hug. Put me down now. I have to pee.

To be 2 is to have no modesty. Every day should be a no pants day! Why do you keep trying to put clothes on me?! My potty is in the kitchen, right where it should be. Every time I use it, you sing and dance for me! I follow you into the bathroom (when you will let me), and do a dance for you. Everyone should sing a happy song when they poo!

To be 2 is to discover what you want and how to say it. I like apples and oranges and I can ask for both by name. I like strawberries, but those I have to show you. I like cream of wheat. I call it ‘hot’ just like you do. When I say ‘chickies’ and bring you my shoes, you know that I want to go outside to play. When I say ‘Eee-eee ‘Orge’ I want to watch Curious Georges. I like him. He is a funny monkey like me. If you gave us typewriters we could write novels. Mine would be 5 words. His would be 3.

To be 2 is to take on life’s lessons – the ones that take a lifetime to learn. I am learning to share, learning to care, learning who I am and how to take care of me.  I am learning patience – with myself and others. I am learning that a smile keeps on going. I am learning that everyone is growing, or at least they could be, and they should be. I am also learning that if I ever want to find out what is in that drawer, I have to make just a little noise or you will wonder what I am getting into.

I hope that this letter has found you and yours in good spirits and good health. Until I write again…

The Baby & The Booby - In Honor of National Breastfeeding Month

The Figlet has given up Boo-baah, but in honor of National Breastfeeding Month, here is a song we wrote back when she was latching strong.

The Baby & The Booby (Are The Best of Friends)

A Little Swarm of Memories



Whenever we travel we like to find odd landmarks. Today we happened upon these in the parking lot of an out of business antique shop along Route 17/I86 near Liberty, NY.

Baby Bug & Big Bug Mama



Big Bug Daddy



Our Little Baby Bug Out On Her Own



"Oh 5h1t!"? - Letter to a Home Town

Our Very Patient and Very Loved '2-Pid Tat' Rena

Olivia, the newest of the chickens, hopped on top of the composter, then made ready to jump the fence into the neighbor’s yard. I was worried and annoyed. Part of the unspoken agreement I have with my neighbor about the chickens is that they stay on our side of the fence. I had already clipped Olivia’s wings, but the allure of a safe haven from the flock bullies set her small mind in motion to find another way.  Seeing what she was about to do, the Figlet called out as I had so many times before “2-pid Chickie!”

It was contextual. It was eloquent. It was very nearly properly annunciated. It was funny. But as much as it made us giggle, it was also the proverbial warning shot. When I lofted the “2-pid tat!” from the bed for using me as a scratching post while we were reading stories, we knew it was time for the language police to start walking the beat.  

Apparently there was an episode of Modern Family called “Little Bo Bleep” that aired last winter and cause quite a stir. I can’t comment on it. We don’t have a TV. I also can’t blame the TV for any colorful additions to the Figlet’s vocabulary. Seeing as she doesn’t go to daycare, we can’t blame that either. The culpability sits squarely on our laps here at home.

The language police were doing a pretty good job throughout the spring. The pets apparently got smarter. “Please”, “Thank you” and “Excuse Me” all made their debut. Aside from being told a few times that I have a “Nice butt-butt” while getting dressed, the Figlet’s language development would make a pastor proud. (Okay, so there was that one widely publicized and highly overrated incident posted on Facebook by my Companion, but we don’t talk about that.)  

Then, a couple of weeks ago when the language police were looking the other way, something slipped out of hand onto the kitchen floor and “Oh 5h1t!” slipped out too. No sooner was it said that it was repeated. My companion and I looked at one another in a collective effort not to laugh. The language police rushed to the scene of the crime, but it was too late.    

The following week at the beach, crouching down letting the water lap at her feet, a wave just big enough to knock her over did just that. Out of the salty spray came the unmistakable words “Oh 5h1t!” It was contextual. It was eloquent. It was properly annunciated. It was funny. It was also hard evidence that removing the phrase from our own vocabulary and straight faced efforts of non-reaction weren’t going to be enough to alter her behavior this time.

At the urging of the language police, now when something falls, it gets sound effects. More often than not, that sound effect starts with an S; “Oh Shazbot!”or “Oh Sploosh!” It isn’t the easiest thing to condition ourselves to, but it has one big advantage: when the Figlet comes out with a creative expletive alternative, it is perfectly acceptable to laugh!  

I hope that this letter has found you and yours in good spirits and good health. Until I write again…

Make a Llama with Art Mama - Toddler Art Project

Story Time Llama

Make a Llama with Art Mama

Age: 18 Months - 5 Years (younger ones need more supervision)

Time: 10 min (+ Prep)

Theme: Llamas

Books: Llama Llama Misses Mama by Anna Dewdney, Is Your Mama a Llama by Deborah Guarino

Materials:
Card stock and printer
Yarn (the fuzzier the better)
Adults get to use Scissors & Hole Punch

Super Fuzzy Yarn!

Prep: Find a simple drawing of a llama. (I choose these by Kat Wong http://www.katdoodles.com/2012/02/l-is-for-llama.html) Instead of just printing out the page, copy the image and paste it into a word document. Adjust page orientation and the size of the image as desired. Print image onto cardstock paper. Cut out in rough outline, then punch holes within the body of the llama. Cut a length of yarn for each llama about 18” long.

Llama Full of Holes

 Activity: Each child gets a llama and a length of yarn. Thread the yarn through the holes every which way until your llama is sufficiently fuzzy. If you have extra yarn at the end, you can give your llama a scarf! Introduce your llama to your mama and your friends.

Llama in Progress

Notes/Tips: If little ones have difficulty putting the end of the yarn through the holes, demonstrate how to hold the yarn against the back of the hole so some of the ‘fuzz’ can be grasped and pull the yarn through. In Word, if you format the picture as ‘Behind Text’ it will allow you to move it freely around the page. Heavier paper makes a sturdier llama – but be aware of your printer capabilities.

Messy Art - The Fun Is In The Making

Most of the toddler art projects that I post here are relatively low on the mess scale. Glitter, paint, even liquid glue are rare items on the materials list. Just so no-one gets the wrong idea thinking that art has to be neat, here is what went on in our kitchen tonight:

I taped paper to the floor then put liberal

gobs of paint in an old lunch tray.

She painted with her fingers

And with her toes

And when she had had enough,

she headed off for a much needed bath

While her masterpieces were left to dry.

The Black Chickie Song

This gave me such a smile when it was happening and every time I have watched it since. I hope that it makes you smile too!

Life as A Venn Diagram - Letter to a Home Town

Margret "Peggy" Walsh

I envision our lives as a Venn diagram; a dome like bubble over each of us, with a fat flower petal where we overlap. In my mind’s eye they are filled with colored light. My companion and I are yellow and blue. The petal that we share shines with the green of spring time. That is where we are now, in that place where our lives intersect. This is the way it might always be, but in this moment I am distinctly aware.

This past week his life has been dominated by his mothers rapidly failing health. She reached that point when loved ones were called to gather. All seven of her children came to spend time. No one needed to be reminded that each day might be her last.

In the windows of time he pushed open he visited her in the hospital. He missed work, dinners and family outings. He arrived home tired or wired or sometimes both. I ask him how it was. “Quiet” he’d tell me. Inside the dome of her last days words were oft spoken in hushed tone.

I am in the supporting role. I take up as much of the slack as I can; making sure meals are available to accommodate random schedules, the right clothes are clean, that the tasks of daily life are taken care of. Even time with the Figlet, at least the hours based on the hours I work, becomes optional. He rearranges priorities as needed. I get flustered when there are things I cannot remove from his path. It highlights the strength of our partnership; still I am relieved that this is a temporary situation. 

In our Venn diagram, the place where we overlap keeps growing. This year we have added supporting each other in time of death. In my grandfathers final days when the family took turns sitting bedside he was there for me. He kept little ones occupied, dried dishes, held me tight. He helped to assure that the tasks of daily life were taken care of so that I could rearrange priorities as needed.

On the day that they thought his mother was out of the woods, she’d only just come to the meadows edge for a last clear glimpse of the sun. Both she and my Grandfather died in a way that most of us hope that we would: without prolonged suffering, with family nearby, and with dignity. They left this world buoyed by the love of their children and grandchildren – the same love that kept them anchored in life.

What if all of our lives are a great Venn diagram, overlapping here, there everywhere? What if all of the colors that surround us in this world are the petals of light where we all overlap? What if a soul could overflow with color fed by the ways they touched others? What if a rainbow is one of those souls ascending, leaving streaks of light color across the sky?

Margret Walsh, mother of my companion, left a rainbow.

I hope that this letter has found you and yours in good spirits and good health. Until I write again…

Family Programing

Today in NYC the Figment Festival on Governors Island was the place to be.

This is the kind family programing I could sit and watch all day!

Say Cheese

If you think that all of the pictures that go along with these art projects come out perfect the first time you are mistaken. Here is a sampling of what it took to get a picture to go with the last post...

And Finally... 



Hurrah for Mom! - Toddler Art Project

Hurrah For Mom!

Banner & Flags

Age: 18 Months - 5 Years or older (younger ones need more supervision)

Time: 15 min (+ Prep)

Theme: Mothers Day (Or any celebration)

Books: Are You My Mother by PD Eastman, Llama Llama Red Pajama by Anna Dewdney, I Love You Stinky Face by Lisa McCourt

Materials:
Copy Paper
Straws
Crayons
String/Ribbon/Yarn
Glue Sticks
Adults get to use Scissors and a Ruler

Prep: Mark and cut out the banner pieces. On one 11” side of the paper measure 5-1/2” and on the other measure 2-1/4” in from each edge. Make a line from corner to 2-1/4” mark, then back up to the 5-1/2” mark, down to the other 2-1/4” then back to the top corner. This will give you 3 banners or flags (and 2 smaller triangle scraps). Measure and cut however many you want for your banner (3 for ‘Mom’ – 5 for ‘Mommy’ etc). Make at least one additional to use as a flag. After they are cut, fold the wide edges down about ¾” and trim the corners flush with the banner edge.

Activity: The banner: Each child gets banner pieces and crayons. Decorate, draw, scribble, make it colorful! An adult can help with letters too. When done, have an adult cut a length of ribbon/yarn/string then help attach them by folding the already trimmed wide end over the string and gluing the fold closed. Be sure to leave enough ribbon at the ends to make loops for hanging.
The flags: Each child gets a banner piece and crayons. Again decorate, draw, scribble – but remember that this time the design will be horizontal instead of vertical. Using the same technique as with the banners, glue the flags around straws to hold as you wave them.

Notes/Tips: Remember to double check the order you are putting them on the string before you glue. This is easily made into a multi-age multi-kid project because each child can decorate a banner piece to contribute to the whole – and you can make it as long or as short as you want!

Umbrella in the Rain - Toddler Art Project

I am not a big fan of plain old coloring pages, but I do use them as a part of a project fairly regularly.

This time our theme was rainy days.

I found the image at: http://www.activity-sheets.com/coloring_page/spring/02-spring-08.htm  We used a glue stick added a coffee filer umbrella with a construction paper handle then colored it.

Simple, Quick Fun!

Hint: If you fold the coffee filter in half, it is a regular umbrella but if you twist and fold a little more, it looks like an umbrella that got caught in the wind.

Letters to a Home Town - The 4th Trimester

This Letter is almost exactly two years old - I am posting it now in honor of my Super Woman Cousin who delivered and 11lb 3oz baby boy last week!

This is What 11 Pounds of Nutella Looks Like

I’m in, what my companion has coined, the 4th trimester of pregnancy, more commonly referred to as postpartum. For those unfamiliar with this stage, hopefully this Letter will give you some insight (thus preparing you for the inevitable experience or encounter with the mother of a newborn). For those who have been there… I’ve heard that it is good to be able to laugh at one’s self, so please feel free to join in.
            It is a widely accepted fact that new parents are sleep deprived zombies. Actually, at least for the new mom, being sleep deprived has been going on for months. Rest has been regularly interrupted by bouts of heart burn, desperate dashes to the bathroom, leg cramps, and so on. The primary difference (and advantage) is that in the 4th trimester the resulting state is rightfully recognized. Once the art of sleep diapering is mastered, 3rd and 4th trimester sleep patterns are amazingly similar.
            There are a million PMS jokes, but brave is the soul who dares joke about the hormone induced rollercoaster a new mother is on. To jest is to risk the wrath of emotions propelled by the highly flammable vapors of estrogen and progesterone. In my experience there is little rhyme or reason for what might trigger which emotions. This makes it equally likely that I might be found on the kitchen floor literally crying over spilled milk or rolling on the floor laughing reading greeting cards at the drug store.
            Along with being a sleep deprived combustion chamber of hormone fumes I, the new mom, am breast feeding. I know that when babe and breast come to some agreement regarding supply and demand it will be easier, but in the mean time… I hereby apologize to every fresh heifer I ever cursed at for kicking the milking machine across the barn. Now I understand.
              As if by the wave of a magical wand, many of the discomforts of pregnancy disappear as soon as the baby arrives. Swollen feet and heartburn seem a distant memory. (Oh, the foods I can eat again. Bliss!) Unfortunately, physical abilities do not reappear with the same swiftness. I can again lie on my back without feeling lightheaded, but... Have you ever seen a turtle turned onto its back struggling to get up?  Stop laughing and give me a hand! Just because I can see my toes again doesn’t mean I can reach them.
            For all of the discomforts and frustrations of the 4th trimester, I have to say that I like this one the best. Gazing into the eyes of a newborn has a way of putting all of the challenges, physical and emotional, into perspective. As funny looking as they are (admit it, newborns ARE funny looking), they are mesmerizingly beautiful. So beautiful that even the most sleep deprived zombie can see it. 
            I hope this letter has found you and yours in good spirits and good health. Until I write again…

Today She Turns 2!

The Birthday Girl

I am in awe! So much happens in the the first two years...

Just look how she has grown!

1st Photo Ever (thanks Erin!)

A Good Day in the Sun

First you feed the chickens...

Then you be a chicken...

And when you are done it will have been a good day in the sun!

Be they Villains or Heroes?

My elder daughter (10) took a little time to check out my blog today. Her feedback: "There should be more pictures of me." So in an effort to please, here is one of my recent favorites. She is the one in the middle.

Be they Villains or Heroes it matters not - they are my family and I love them!