It’s the first day of school.  I have a 16 month old, so it’s not really back to school for us, but I also have a husband who’s a teacher, so it sort of is.  It’s my first day alone with Bella in over a month.  It’s time to get back into our usual routines and do all of the exciting Montessori things that I’ve been researching.

Today’s Highlight

Every morning, I go into Bella’s room and pick her out of her cot.  I take her to the other side of the room, sign “open” and then draw the curtains.  Today, things are a tiny bit different.  I’ve laminated a weather chart to accompany our morning chats, which allow me to introduce the various weather symbols and also the concept of the day of the week.  Unsurprisingly, her interest is in the velcro.

She soon asks to be put down, and goes immediately for her lockbox.  My instinct is always to move to the next activity, but rather than head to the potty, I instead let her fiddle with the box.  The repetitive motion can’t help but make me smile, as she retrieves her prize when she opens the box, pops it back in and then promptly goes through the whole thing over and over again.

Follow the child, indeed.

The Low Point

My Monday ‘activity’ is always baking.  It’s for a simple reason: whatever we bake will be snacks for the week.  I also happened to be responsible for making dinner today, which is homemade pizza.  I’ve planned to do both at the same time, excitedly planning for all the parts that Bella can join in with.  Pouring, stirring, kneading.  There are countless Montessori blogs showing all these lovely practical life kitchen activities.

That was not our reality.  I discovered that in my haste, I had bought gluten free flour, which doesn’t make pizza dough as I know it.  It seemed like I didn’t have enough yeast to make a second batch of gluten-filled dough.  Bella ate raw dough.  I found 2 sachets of yeast which I’m sure materialised out of my sheer desperation. Bella decided to empty out her kitchen cupboard and dropped her ceramic bowl.  I did not handle it well, although I did order her her own cleaning supplies that evening.  Bella ate yet more raw dough.  Her only interest in the dough was to poke it, and then pick it up and eat it.  I fed her two snacks.  It did not abate her thirst for the dough.

By the time my husband came home, I had been standing in the kitchen for three hours.  Bella clapped and squealed while I nearly burst into tears.  We will need to think about how to improve our kitchen time.  I suspect making only one thing will help.