Today was another gorgeous Autumn day. The day started with partly sunny skies and a brisk breeze, which called for extra clothing over the long pants and shirts. The morning later transformed into clear skies – we basked and played in the sun’s rays on a perfectly lit day that cast shadows all around us.
Our morning play was delightful – a play invitation depicting the Three Little Pigs – using a collection of our sticks and nature bits from our many community walks and foraging. These natural treasures have been utilized in many of our different activities, stories, and learning. Today, I will tell the story of the little girl who rode the back of the inflated pig (I will post the full play invitation of the Three Little Pigs – soon).
The little girl, whom I will refer to as C.S – left the play invitation and soon found the pig with the green rope (that pig had been lassoed some weeks ago). She found the pig and decided to ride the pig from the playground to the upper corners of the yard and back. One would expect an up and down motion or a bounce, but instead, she waddled as she walked the pig sandwiched between her legs. She walked with the pig on the mulch, over the divider, unto the bricks, and then to the grass. While on the pig, she giggled, sang, and chuckled.
She spotted a butterfly in the garden; she suddenly stopped and said – “yeah, butterfly – look!” Just then, a ball from the basketball hoop rolled over and hit the pig, and she said, “It got my piggie!” She stopped, got off the pig then said to the pig, “You ok, piggie?” The piggie did not answer; she got back on the piggie and waddled up the small hill. She got near the peak of the hill and then turned around to descend.
Reaching the middle of the small hill, her legs buckled – both she and the pig crashed down. She rolled off the pig, then laughed while hugging the pig.
Then she got up, reached for the pig that was lying on its back, and flipped it over on its feet.
Then she said, “my piggie!”
After the pig was flipped to its legs, she sat beside it. I could hear her talking to the pig, but as educators, we know at times we don’t want to intrude; the documentation at times doesn’t mean interrupting the moment. Suddenly she got up and dashed to the back of the shed.
She returned with the rolling piano and then sat next to the pig – she then began to sing an unknown song in an off tune while playing the piano. I looked at her and smiled; I wanted to hear her thoughts. Breaking my silence as an obvious stalker, I asked her why she had the piano, and she said, “I make piggie better!”
This beautiful observation of C.S, her play, coordination efforts, empathy, and tenderness for the piggie was not overlooked by her educator, who silently documented the stages of her play with the piggie.
May your days include observation of the children in your early years’ environment. ?
?Lots of love – Suzette Salmon aka Miss Sue
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