At the Heart of Play: The Kitchen

 

Following the Child, Stirring Connection

At Children’s Garden, we believe the best curriculum walks in the door with your child. This year, as we listen closely and follow their lead, the children have taken us somewhere familiar and wonderfully rich: the kitchen.

Based on interests that emerged in the classrooms, the studio has transformed into a kitchen... a store... a restaurant... a haven of cooking. Whether the children are whisking up imaginary muffins or making real pizzas, our children are drawn—again and again—to the rituals of preparing and sharing food. It’s no surprise. In both Montessori and Reggio Emilia traditions, food is more than nourishment; it’s a tool for independence, a canvas for creativity, and a place where relationships deepen.

We’ve noticed that when children gather around a table to mix, chop, stir, and serve—real or pretend—their play becomes more collaborative, their conversations more generous, and their confidence more visible. Cooking has become the unexpected thread weaving together our year long exploration of play, connection, and community.

Why Cooking Holds So Much Power

Following the Child’s Interests

It all began with questions: Can I crack the eggs? How do you make soup? What’s in that muffin? From there, the interest grew. Some children began bringing recipes from home, while others invent their own. We respond by creating more invitations to cook, both in real and symbolic ways.

The Kitchen as a Place for Collaboration

In both the Montessori practical life work and Reggio’s project-based exploration, the kitchen is a natural meeting point. Here children learn to navigate roles, negotiate turns, and contribute to a shared goal—one bowl of batter at a time.

A Sensory-Rich World, Tuned for Each Child

From the smell of fresh herbs to the heft of a spoon, cooking invites children into full-body learning. For some, it’s a dive into textures and tastes. For others, it’s a quiet place to observe or gently engage.

Play as Preparation for Life

Cooking, like all deep play, is full of natural learning: math through measuring, science through mixing, literacy through recipes, emotional growth through taking turns and sharing. These moments help build independence, focus, and confidence—all while feeling joyful and purposeful.

A Living Expression of Our Philosophy

At Children’s Garden, our environments are designed to reflect the values of respect, beauty, and wonder. The kitchen—just like the sensorial area or practical life—is an evolving space where the materials, the children, and the adults are in dialogue.

You’re Invited: Cook With Us in the Studio

As we follow the path the children have laid before us, we’d love to invite you to be part of it. In the coming weeks, families will be welcomed into our Studio Kitchen to cook alongside the children—simple, meaningful experiences like chopping apples, or preparing a favorite dish from home.

If you are interest, please email me and join us at the table. There’s room for everyone, and we can’t wait to share the fun (and mess) together.

Stay Curious and Full of Wonder,

Angelina

A Reflection on Childhood: Why We Should Color Outside the Lines

It was 20 years ago when I visited my son Owen’s kindergarten class, and I overheard a conversation that’s stayed with me ever since. The teacher, sitting primly in a red plastic chair, lectured the kids in a stern tone:

“Scissors are NOT for cutting crayons or playdough. They’re ONLY for paper.

We cut paper to learn the skill of cutting. We study bears because they are interesting. Tommy, pay attention, Bears ARE interesting. Hands in your lap Susan. Eyes on me. Eyes on ME. Bears are interesting and you are learning important skills that will prepare you for the first grade. Excuse me, excuuuuse me. I am waiting. Kindergartners, sit quietly and don't talk when I am talking.”

The lecture went on and on. I couldn’t help but imagine the kids as birds in a cage, their curiosity and creativity being stripped away.

I wanted to burst in, waving crayons and scissors, shouting “REVOLT!” I wanted to free them—to tear down the rigid rules that seemed to choke their imagination. But of course, I didn’t. I’d long ago graduated from the school of “color inside the lines” and had become that grown-up who obeyed all the rules. My son, however, was already walking toward me, liberated for the day, and I wondered: why can’t we color outside the lines? Why can’t we cut playdough with scissors or sing in class without being shushed?

As an educator, I understand the need for structure, but I ache for the child in us all—the one who wants to explore, experiment, and express without limits. Today, we still see classrooms where creativity sometimes takes a backseat to quiet compliance. But it’s in those messy, unstructured moments—whether it’s scribbling outside the lines or cutting something “off-limits”—that true learning happens. These are the moments that teach our children to think, to solve problems, and to be themselves.

To the parents of young children today: encourage exploration. Let them color outside the lines. Let them cut whatever they want to cut (yes, even playdough!). Let them sing, dance, and dream. These experiences are more than just fun—they’re how kids learn to be creative, resilient, and curious.

I’ve carried that spirit of creative rebellion into my work as a teacher, always adding scissors to the playdough in my studio. It’s about keeping that spark of curiosity alive, not just in children, but in ourselves as adults. There’s always something new to discover, a fresh way of seeing or interacting with the world. The key is to never stop being curious, to never lose the wonder we had as children when we saw the world as a vast, open space for exploration.

So, go ahead—grab your crayons, eat your playdough, glue your friends together with laughter, and LIVE like you’re alive. Because in the end, it’s not about sitting still and following rules—it’s about discovering who we are and how we can shape the world.

Clay Hands, Open Hearts

Whew! What a joyful week it has been in our studio. Creativity and connection were the themes, and the children dove right in.

Our resident “mud specialist,” Amy Laugesen, filled the week with clay explorations. There’s something about cool clay in small hands—it grounds the body, sparks imagination, and teaches patience. The joy was palpable in every pinch, roll, and squish.

Meanwhile, the XP children continued their neighborhood wonder walks, cameras in hand, noticing beauty in familiar places. We even stopped at Apothecary Tinctura, beginning to weave new threads of connection with our larger community.

Back at school, Jannah and I introduced the children to a very old friend: the Silver Maple in our backyard. The children touched its bark, leaned close, and began forming their own budding relationship with this wise elder of our outdoor classroom.

And to top it off, I spent Friday morning with the toddlers—joyfully scribbling with paint sticks, building trust, and making first friendships with some of our youngest artists.

In all of this, one truth shines through: children learn best when their hands, hearts, and imaginations are free to explore. From mud to maple trees, from neighborhood streets to bright paint marks, every moment is a building block of creativity, resilience, and belonging.

What a WONDERFUL week indeed.

Collaboration: The Magic That Connects Us All

Have you ever noticed how a single spark can light up an entire room? That’s what happens when children come together to collaborate. Like tiny puzzle pieces, they fit and flow, creating something greater than the sum of their individual selves.

In the world of early childhood, collaboration is not just about sharing art supplies,. It’s about weaving hearts and minds into a vibrant tapestry of learning. When little ones work together—they’re building connections that grow their brains and their empathy.

Every time a child collaborates, they nurture their understanding of others, their emotional awareness, and their ability to solve problems with kindness. It’s a bit like magic—each shared smile, each problem solved together, creates pathways of connection that last a lifetime.

Collaboration isn’t only for children. When families and communities come together, we create a space for empathy to blossom. Just like the roots of a tree intertwining underground, we support each other’s growth—planting seeds of kindness, understanding, and unity.

At school, we have lots of opportunities to collaborate! This year, we have book studies, photograph exploration, community connections and so much more . Stay on the lookout for opportunities to participate if you’re interested. Together, we can encourage those sparks of wonder to light up, one connection at a time.

Stay curious and full of wonder,

Angelina

Sun Love

Step into the studio this week and you’ll see jars of golden sunflowers, baskets of apples rolling across the tables and children scientists drawing what they see, chopping apples for apple butter and adding seeds to our “chopper” for sunbutter. You'll see experiments with kinetic sand and forests of loose parts. We are having fun.

In moments like these, children are making more than sun butter sandwiches or flower pictures. They’re building muscles for empathy: “Can I stir next?” They’re testing physics with towers of apple slices that sway and topple. They’re weaving story and imagination through the room: “This sunflower is the sun, and we’re planting the sky.” (That conversation actually happened. How poetic is that?)

In the Reggio spirit, the materials become co-teachers—the crunch of an apple, the spiral of a sunflower seed head, the way kinetic sand sticks together and then releases.

Play is learning in a language children speak fluently.

Together we can make space at the table. We can watch our curriculum emerge in the simplest ways: in the quiet rhythm of chopping an apple, or the sudden delight when someone realizes the sunflower petals look like flames.

Wishing you another great weekend and we look forward to more play and discovery ahead!

Why Play is the Unsung Hero of Growing Up

We live in a world that loves a good checklist—preferably color-coded and laminated. But children aren’t spreadsheets. Their brains don’t grow line by line; they grow in leaps, spirals, and happy accidents. Play is the unsung hero of childhood because it allows kids to make up the rules, invent their own story, and decide whether the villain is terrifying, hilarious, or just really misunderstood. In playful moments, children aren’t just passing time—they’re practicing what it means to be fully alive, curious, and connected.

Neuroscientists call it “neuroplasticity.” You and I just call it “Tuesday.” Either way, play literally rewires the brain for problem-solving, resilience, and—(drum roll from your studio teacher)—creativity. When a child experiments with blocks, paints, or dressing-up, they’re not only exercising imagination; they’re rehearsing flexibility, emotional regulation, and empathy. So each tower crash has an opportunity to become an engineering lesson. A costume change is an exercise in perspective-taking. The mess on the table? That’s innovation in progress. (I remind myself of that often!)

And the benefits don’t retire when childhood ends. Adults who make room for creativity and play in their own lives, show greater adaptability, stronger mental health, and more joy in everyday life. Whether it’s doodling in the margins of your notes or inventing a silly bedtime song, the crossover is clear: play fuels creativity, and creativity fuels resilience. The key takeaway? When your child is playing, they’re not “just having fun.” They’re building brain highways that support learning, connection, and wonder for a lifetime.

The Right to Play (and Why It’s Superfood for Kids’ Brains)

Welcome to the start of the year at Children’s Garden! Around here, you’ll hear two kinds of noise. First, the calm, satisfying sounds of Montessori life: the clink of a tiny spoon on a porcelain bowl, the quiet swish of a rug being unrolled as sunbeams make a slow dance over knobbed cylinders and bead chains. And then—just beyond the calm—you’ll hear the wonderful chaos of play. Someone in the studio may be building dino houses out of blocks and scarves while someone else operate a fairy hospital (there can be a surprising number of wing injuries at the start of school). Outside, our mud kitchen is in full swing, alongside clay, and sand boxes where tiny grains of rock slip through fingers like time. Play isn’t something “extra” at our school.  It’s part of the main experience. Dirt, clay, sand, and water are more than mess—they are elemental teachers. In their textures and transformations, children discover laws of physics, practice collaboration, invent worlds, and reconnect with something older and wilder than any lesson plan could ever hold. Creativity grows best in the open air, with mud under our fingernails and laughter on the breeze. Let’s remember that play isn’t what happens when “real learning” is done—play is how real learning happens. So, If your child comes home and says, “We played alot,” that means their brains eating superfoods —complete with a side of mud. Keeping this in mind, remember to send your child in mess-friendly clothing to let the mud do its magic.

PLAY ISN’T EXTRA. IT’S ESSENTIAL.

Welcome to a new year in the studio at Children’s Garden Montessori School—a place where paint splatters become masterpieces, block towers fall (and rise again), and a single spider web can stop us all in our tracks because, honestly, it’s breathtaking. Around here, play isn’t the “dessert” of childhood. It’s the main course. The cake itself. Children play to make sense of the world, to practice being human, and to test theories like, “If I shout ‘I’m a dragon’ in the middle of dinner, will anyone give me their goldfish crackers?” Spoiler: usually, yes. This year, our guiding research question is: How might wonder, creativity, and unstructured play deepen our connections, conversations, and community? Here’s what we know (and keep rediscovering): Play isn’t a bonus prize—it’s a human need. (Yes, even for you when you find yourself dancing with a mop.) Unstructured, demand-free play teaches emotional regulation, creativity, and joy. Solo play matters just as much as group play—it’s not “lonely,” it’s practice for self-discovery. Protecting long stretches of flow—the kind where kids are so deep in play they don’t hear you calling them—builds calm, focus, and resilience. Mud pies, glitter explosions, and finger paint feasts feed the nervous system better than kale smoothies ever could. So this year, we invite you to stand guard with us—not just over schedules and routines, but over the sacred, silly, surprising spaces where children’s play unfolds. When kids play, they’re not “stepping away” from learning. They’re stepping into it with both muddy boots. Let’s make more room for the cake. Every day. All year. Stay Curious and full of Wonder, Humor, and Heart, Your Studio Teacher, Angelina Lloyd