The World is a Jungle Gym
Our world as it stands, was made by adults for adults.
Not taking into account that none of us start off very big, but extremely full of energy, imagination...and curiosity.
There aren't many places (okay, none at all, including the bathroom!) that my kids don't go with me.
The majority of the time, any climbing, exploring and touching is discouraged.
Not by me, unless something is legitimately dangerous, but by society in general.
Exploring is for the daring, not for the polite.
We did pop into a small, quaint art gallery a few months back.
I was drooling at the front window, when O suggested we go inside and before I could stop her, she was opening the door and letting herself in.
There were glass sculptures and pretty pieces of handmade jewelery, not to mention gorgeous works from local artisans, covering the walls, floors and tabletops.
I instantly felt like the mother bull in the china shop, with baby bulls in tow.
Though I was aching to look around, I told O it might be best for us to leave.
Just then, the owner insisted we stay.
She encouraged me by letting me know she was a former kindergarten teacher and loved letting kids explore. She even allowed O touch some of the finest pieces on the premises.
She didn't have to, but she supported O's need to explore her surroundings.
For that, I was so grateful...and hopeful.
Maybe there are still people in the world who believe, "Hands On. Please Touch." provides a richer environment than the alternative.
We learned a lot and the bulls didn't break a thing.
There aren't many places (okay, none at all, including the bathroom!) that my kids don't go with me.
The majority of the time, any climbing, exploring and touching is discouraged.
Not by me, unless something is legitimately dangerous, but by society in general.
Exploring is for the daring, not for the polite.
We did pop into a small, quaint art gallery a few months back.
I was drooling at the front window, when O suggested we go inside and before I could stop her, she was opening the door and letting herself in.
There were glass sculptures and pretty pieces of handmade jewelery, not to mention gorgeous works from local artisans, covering the walls, floors and tabletops.
I instantly felt like the mother bull in the china shop, with baby bulls in tow.
Though I was aching to look around, I told O it might be best for us to leave.
Just then, the owner insisted we stay.
She encouraged me by letting me know she was a former kindergarten teacher and loved letting kids explore. She even allowed O touch some of the finest pieces on the premises.
She didn't have to, but she supported O's need to explore her surroundings.
For that, I was so grateful...and hopeful.
Maybe there are still people in the world who believe, "Hands On. Please Touch." provides a richer environment than the alternative.
We learned a lot and the bulls didn't break a thing.