With tingling fingers, wind slapped cheeks and a panting puppy, tired from barking at the waves, we stepped onto the smooth sandy beach, peppered with shells and stones. For us no trip to the seaside is complete without foraging for fossils and shells and so an argument ensued between my six and nine year old about one particular find. ‘I want the poo’. ‘No, it’s mine’, ‘Give me the horse poo!’ The subject of their battle was a heavy rounded object with smooth nodules, bearing a remarkable similarity to a fossilised hose poo! With careful negotiation, the nine year old secured this as a trophy in return for trading a large, complete whelk shell with pearlescent inside. The day was rounded off by a trip to a play area and brisk walk along the pier. I was intrigued to overhear a father playfully explaining to his children how they were going to walk along the beach to the cafe for a nice cup of tea. A suggestion met with disdain as his four (?) year old exclaimed ‘Oh, a boring walk then.’ I may be rose-tinting my childhood but can’t quite believe that the announcement of a trip to the seaside would have been greeted with anything other than excitement and joy. Reflecting upon our own trip, that nearly never was – neither child had been keen to leave the comfort of the house, they recounted their many favourite bits of the day and how they didn’t want to leave. If only I could bottle that feeling to avoid future battles!

With the right clothes and most importantly the right attitude we too can embrace children’s love of all weather, seeing rain as the provider of irresistible puddles, intriguing rivulets, splashes and drips. It also offers an all round sensory experience, from the gushing coldness felt through wellies or clammy wetness from overzealous splashing; the oozing warmth of mud and its gloopy sound; the fresh smell of damp grass; the rhythmic sound of beating rain; and the dripping plops of fat raindrops. I’ve made a pact that next time it starts raining, rather than huddling inside I’m going to don my waterproofs with gusto and make the most of the abundant weather!

With the final consultation on the EYFS over and the new framework expected in the Spring, it is hard to see how the emphasis upon school readiness and educational programmes will make learning more accessible for those, like my little boy, who thrive on full-bodied learning. Children are quick to pick up cues about what constitutes work and play and like it or not, sat still reading at a table with an adult present, invariably points to work rather than play.  Whitebread et al (2011) suggest that the question shouldn’t be’ is the child ready for school?’ but ‘is the school environment [and that includes our own attitudes], ready for children?’ Sat watching his own unique approach to reading, the answer I fear is ‘no’.

At teatime on Saturday my eight year old announced that she had set up a new business. Its name ‘Frantic Shredding’ hints at the concept, a mobile waste paper shredding service. Inspired by the purchase of a mini shredder for 20p at a charity fete earlier that day, she negotiated business through a well-conceived two-tier pricing strategy and a good appraisal of the market -she knew how many boxes of waste paper I had! A deal struck, she and her five year old brother proceeded to set up a production line, with him tearing the A4 paper into shreddable pieces while she turned the shredder handle. The pair then emptied the shreds into recycling bags before swapping roles. After 20 minutes of concerted shredding they decamped to the lounge for Strictly Dancing, after all it was a mobile service! Shredding whilst watching the dancing, they sat for over an hour working their way through the box of paper. During this time they agreed to split the profits, £2.50 each, decided how they’d spend their earnings and displayed heaps of focus, determination and teamwork.

If anyone was in any doubt about children’s ability to concentrate or the potential for almost anything to spark creativity and imagination, not just all singing all dancing toys, then that 20p shredder suggests otherwise. And the creativity for those budding entrepreneurs did not stop there, as some partially shredded paper inspired my eight year old to create mini dolls with pretty fringed skirts. This in turn sparked more ideas as both children fashioned creations from shredded paper. That could so easily have signalled the end to the shredding, but not so, as both resumed their mission the next day, roping Grandma in in the process! And so we’re off to the shops after school today to buy Pudsey bears, the inspiration behind Frantic Shredding!

With busy lives and routines it’s so easy to miss the sense of awe and wonder of occasions like these for children. A powercut turned into a magical evening of spooky tea and hide and seek games. The visitors in high vis jackets with their amazing equipment, sparked discussion over hydraulics, vehicles and safety. Returning to the issue of school readiness, moments like this make us realise the importance of changing the emphasis of the debate. Instead of focussing on whether children are ready for school let’s consider instead whether school is ready for them? Opportunities like these clearly won’t be available in schools, but the daily weather, seasons, visitors from the community and so on all give opportunities for children to extend their knowledge and make the links to real life. In doing so they tick several curriculum boxes too! If I was observing that night I would have evidenced elements of personal social and emotional development, communication, problem solving, knowledge and understanding of the world, physical and creative development. Not bad for a spontaneous night in the dark!

Looking through ‘my’ books later I discovered a real gem that has relevance for the current debate on ‘school readiness’. Activity Methods for Children Under Eight, published in 1962, covers the topical issue of transforming formal teaching environments into child-led environments. In marked contrast to the current emphasis upon school readiness, ‘educational programmes’ and  ‘preparing early years children for school’, the aim then was for ‘intelligent, full living’ children. The need for ‘ample time for children to undertake everything at their own pace’ was recognised.  Practitioners were urged not to compete with the distraction of extreme weather but rather to harness its appeal as a tool for bringing the curriculum to life. The importance of ‘real investigations which stimulate thought and reasoning’, such as melting snow and ice, were also cited as great tools for enriching learning through play. With the Early Years Foundation Stage in a flux following its Review, and the prospect of a fundamental shift in approach to learning and play in danger of becoming a reality, there can be no better, nor timelier reminder of the important things in life than the image of surplus blackboards converted by a school carpenter into deep sand trays for play and exploration!

If we obsess too much with targets and education, as the revised EYFS threatens to do, then we risk the danger of destroying children’s zest for life and all it offers as well as labelling them failures before they’ve barely started on life’s rich journey. For evidence of this I need look no further than my then four year old, bought up in an environment free of pressures and yet still anxious about starting school because in his words ‘I can’t yet read or write.’ Returning to that same child aged five, still learning to read and write but buzzing with a love for books and I’m almost tempted to get busy with a blackboard, anyone for sandplay?!

It’s not unusual for Queenie to break out into song, normally ‘I’ve got a lovely bunch of coconuts’ but today it was magical as a medley of classics from Daisy to Tipperary and How much is that Doggy to 10 Green Bottles were chorused by all the men and women at the centre, volunteers and members, together with my children. The atmosphere was festive and amazing. The adults with physical disabilities were visibly touched by the experience, the children beaming at the spontaneous choir that unfolded before them. Talking later about our favourite things in the day, visiting Queenie was my five year olds answer – not bad for a day of two trips to the park, playing with friends, a picnic and a rare meal of chicken nuggets! And if anyone was ever in doubt at the power of music to uplift spirits and build bonds, that rendition of Twinkle Twinkle said it all!

Deeply engaged in research into sensory processing difficulties, this moment of discombobulation has parallels with the sensory information mis-match that many children and adults experience on a daily basis. For me fortunately those crunchy leaves were a mere fleeting distraction. For many people with sensory processing difficulties, constant bombardment and overload; conflicting sensory information; and lack of integration must cause at best a challenge and at worst, discomfort and pain. Our brain it seems thrives on moments of disequilibrium, but only when this is the exception rather than the norm.