Nineteen Minutes

Like many other mothers, I often feel like I just can't seem to get anything done.  As soon as I begin, there's a little voice calling, "Mama" or a tug at my leg.  There's really nothing I'd rather do than play with my sweet, smart, fun baby, but we do have to eat.  And we only have so many (clean) clothes (left in the closet).

I've been learning a little about the Montessori Method and appreciate the idea that, to a child, play is "work".  Given meaningful opportunities, one doesn't have to observe a child very long to see how serious it is and how fulfilled he seems after constructing a block tower or sorting objects, for example.  If I've done a poor job of explaining this, forgive me.  I'm still learning!  :)

At any rate, I decided to conduct an experiment last week to see just how long Kay-Kay would work independently.  Perhaps she did need me every thirty-eight seconds, or perhaps my perception was flawed.  I set her up on the floor in the living area (out of sight, but within earshot of me in the kitchen).  I put before her a muffin pan and some old poker chips in a container from which I removed the lid.  I went into the kitchen.  It was 2:17.  After I'd unloaded the dishwasher, I peeked around the corner.  Here's what I found:

She looked up and smiled at me after I took a few pictures, and then she went back to work.  I went back into the kitchen.  A little later, she appeared before me with all a container full of poker chips in one hand and the lid in the other.  She said, "Help."  I helped her put the lid back on the container and looked at the clock.  2:36.  Nineteen minutes.  Wow!  I'd just had nineteen minutes to work in the kitchen with only the sounds of poker chips and dishes rattling.

I know this might be no big deal for lots of people, but this is my "simple place to remember and share", and those were nineteen life- or at least perception-changing minutes!

As a side note, I have to say that Kay-Kay's outfit that day is not reflective of the laundry status in our house.  It is, however, reflective of her sense of style.