Jumping in Puddles

When my oldest child was a year old, it rained for what seemed like weeks.  Those weeks were glorious for a toddler who loved everything about water! He laughed and played and splashed, fully immersed in this new, rain-created, wonderland.  And then it happened.  My baby clearly said his first two-syllable word, puddle.

The image is still clear in my mind.  My plans for the morning did not include puddles. In fact, the rain was an annoying distraction for me as I rushed to get to the store. Thankfully, something about my toddler’s gleeful excitement touched my momma heart that day. I looked at the rain, looked at my son, and looked at the puddles.  After quickly assessing my shopping list, I knew that it could wait.

With all the excitement a toddler can muster, my little guy ran up to a puddle, stomped one foot in it, and ran back to me laughing.  Over and over, he stomped and laughed and ran.   Amidst the laughter, he babbled and occasionally threw in a few words from his small vocabulary. Suddenly, as if the word “puddle” had always been a part of his babble, he claimed the word as his very own.

We created memories that day while playing in the puddle. I remember laughter and smiles, but there was more going on.  My little guy was immersed in a world that connected experiences, emotions, and language.  He was learning. And I was beginning to form questions that would drive much of my parenting and professional life, “What if all learning could be enjoyable and organic?  What could I do to create experiences that connected relationships, enjoyment, and learning? What if learning could look less like sitting at a desk and more like jumping in a puddle?”

Today, after 30 years of experience in education, my goal is to remember my little guy learning while enjoying jumping in puddles.