Fingerpaint, again

When you're Milan's age, product is not nearly as important as process. In other words, who needs paper?

Indie wonders if that stuff just might be edible...

Eliana gives it her all!

And on your left...

Josh plays tour guide.
Or something.

Fingerpaint: the process

On Friday we tried out a recipe for homemade finger paints. If you're curious, you can find it here, but if you'd prefer to leave the mess for me, be sure we'll be doing it again. After all, only Josh and Owen were here last Friday: the others have to have their turns!

One of our favourite outings

Huh? You're talking to us? Owen and Milan are ... stunned... by the coffeeshop experience...

The older three are more into it. Of course, those three giant blueberry muffins probably help focus the attention.

The nice barista saw me with my camera, and offered to take a group shot. Here we all are!

Best soup in the world

A cooking tip I picked up from somewhere or other. Every time you would normally discard some sort of leftover vegetable matter, instead of tossing it in the garbage (or even in the composter, if you're more virtuous), dump it in a largish ziploc bag in the freezer. Carrot and potato peelings? Toss them in. Lettuce gone too wilty to eat in a salad? Chop roughly and toss them in. The woody ends of cilantro or celery? In it goes!

When the bag is full, three or more cups, toss all the bits and pieces into a pot with an equivalent amount of water. Bring to a boil, then simmer for at least an hour until everything is soft.

Then you take your immersion blender (I got one for my birthday from my wonderful older daughter), and puree it all up.

Voila! Instant, lovely thick soup stock!

Add what flavouring seems appropriate. Because today's batch had a lot of ginger peels (which I did remove prior to pureeing), garlic, and cilantro, I spiced with cumin, coriander, a little salt and a sploosh of lime concentrate. They just seemed to "go" with the flavours of the thing.

If you want some chewable bits in your soup, toss in last night's leftovers. Our soup had wild rice and butter chicken, plus some carrots that had seen better days, and some nearing-freezer-burn-ish cauliflower and broccoli.

When I serve soup to the smallest ones, I generally tear a quarter-slice of bread (stale crusts are good for this) into the bottom of the bowl, and pour soup on top. I let it sit around for a few minutes to cool and get the bread good and soggy -- when they eat it, there's very little liquid left to drip and spill, so they can mostly feed themselves.

Ella and Josh had three bowls. (Theirs had no bread.) Owen and Milan had a bowl and a half. Eliana had about half a bowl, but then she has a smaller appetite generally than those four other eating machines...

The thing I love about this is it's something so tasty and nutritious, and yet made almost entirely out of things that would normally be thrown out. Never mind all those vitamins, and the fact that the kids love it. I just feel so damned virtuous every time I serve it!

Now you see them...

Where did it go? I knew I had one around here someplace!

The habits of shadows are difficult to learn. If the sun is there, my shadow will be... here?


But whatever their vagaries, shadows are fun!

We <3 our flowers

You've all seen your flowers. (Except you, Cliff and Stephanie. You can pick Owen's up when you all return, tanned and relaxed, just in time for Valentine's Day!) Now you can see them in the making! This craft was courtesy of Martha Stewart.

(Yes, really.
I love that site.
Yes, really.)

You need four hearts, each with a hole punched in them, a straw (Starbuck's very helpfully makes theirs green), and tape.

Then you put the heart-petals on the straw. Carefully...

Very, very carefully...

Very, very, very carefully...

No, he didn't make one. But who could refuse to give one to that wee face??

Or this one?

Look! A garden of love! Aren't they cuuuute?

(For those of you puzzled by the symbols in the title of this post: " <3 " means "heart". See? It's a heart, lying on its side!)

Here's hoping...

My parcel arrived from Vesey's!!!

I've decided to have a kitchen herb garden! What better spring-anticipatory activity can there be for small children than to plant something?? (Yes, I know that the beans we planted in damp tissue last fall all went moldy and urpy except the one. But we live in hope in these parts. My optimism keeps me sane, you know.)

First you put in a base of vermiculite for drainage...

It takes concentration...

Then you put in the soil. We didn't take pictures of that because it's just the same as the vermiculite. (Only black.) (Here's hoping there's enough soil to do the trick.)

Then you poke holes for the seeds. Lots and lots and lots of holes. So many holes that you can hardly see where they are, because there's really no place that they aren't...

More poking. Poking is FUN. Everyone wants to poke.
(Here's hoping the soil isn't so compacted the poor things can't put down roots.)

Then, after the seeds are in -- Oh, I did that part, because some of those herb seeds? They're TEEEEENY! I've never seen seeds so small. In fact, I don't think I really did see the mint seeds. I just sprinkled wee gray smudges in the general direction of the soil, and we all agreed that I had in fact planted seeds. Planting mint seeds is The Emperor's New Clothes of gardening. (Here's hoping those things really were seeds, and not just some seed-processor's sock lint.)

So. After the seeds are in, you pat the soil down. And pat it, and pat it.

And pat it some more. Patting is almost as much fun as poking.

When they're all soundly patted (here's hoping they haven't all been beaten to death), you water them. (This is the infamous "pretend" picture, Jennifer.)

(For the rest of you: "Pretend" because every time I tried to snap Joshua truly watering the plants (here's hoping they haven't been drowned) he'd lift his elbow up so his arm covered his face. So this one is a total and complete fake pose. "Just PRETEND you're pouring water, sweetie.")
Pretty convincing, isn't it? Sure looks like he's concentrating on pouring water. Really, he's just confounded by the reams of instructions: "Lower your arm. Tip the cup. Lift your chin. Look at the pot. DON'T MOVE." (Doesn't he look natural???)

Ta-dah!!! Our herb garden!

Here's hoping for herbs!

Circle Time

Oh, look! Pictures of me! I don't often have the opportunity to be on the other side of the camera (which is the way I like it), but I understand you all might feel differently about it. Not that you crave pictures of my beauteous self, but so that you can see what we get up to when I'm part of it.

Here we have Calendar Time. The three-year-olds loooooove calendar time. We talk about the day's weather, we recite the days of the week, we count the number of cloudy days and snowy days we've had so far, we even (oh, so casually) throw out terms like "row" and "column". Charts and counting: Not just about increasing their vocabulary and making them a little more aware of their surroundings, it's also terrific pre-math learning. And they LOVE it.

At this age, children do not need to be convinced that learning is fun. (How, why and when do they start resisting learning? Oh, I have lots and lots of opinions on that one. So does John Holt, if you're curious.)

Anyway... the calendar. Eliana counts the sunny days we had last week. (One. Booo, winter.) You can see that they're all engrossed in the activity, even Owen and Milan. And the dog. I suspect Owen and Milan are getting more out of it.


We also sing (and often dance). Here we are chanting "Three Little Monkey". Not the ones who jump on the bed, but the ones who swing in the trees. Stephen, bless him, managed to capture the children's Very Most Favourite part of the whole poem!

Aaaaaaannnnd.... SNAP!!!!

And what happens to the first little monkey? (And the second, and third and fourth, and all, in fact, but that lucky last one?)

Oh, dear!
The poor monkey!
He got eaten by the crocodile!
Though the only one who seems in the slightest distressed
by his untimely end is me.
Macabre little ditty, but they love it.