An award-winning kids science book that will foster a love for science while having hands-on fun.
Step into my house and you’ll find surfaces littered with Ziplock bags open just enough to let the day’s latest slime creation ooze out, bottles filled with unidentifiable concoctions that contain some kind of plant matter, and everyday objects “scented” with copious layers of lotion. My girls love science. They love to experiment with different ingredients to see how they react and to proudly create their own “essential” recipes.
Sometimes, I’m all for this scientific exploration.
Other times, I wonder how long I’m expected to let something sit (bacteria multiplying by the second) while we “wait” for the reaction.
When DK offered to send us a complimentary copy of Smithsonian’s Maker Lab, an award-winning book that encourages kids to build, invent, create and discover through 28 DIY science experiments, I jumped at the chance. Crafty science projects that will work and teach the girls a little bit about the science behind them? What could be cooler?
Have you ever read a book that makes you want to go on an adventure? I’m sure you have. Maybe you wanted to hop over to England after reading Harry Potter, wander around Italy after reading Eat, Pray, Love or explore the Pacific Crest Trail after finishing Wild.
But have you ever stopped to think about the idea that children’s books can do the same thing to your kids?
After reading Ladybug Girl (more on that in a second) with my littlest, she suddenly got very into ladybugs. She wanted to go everywhere in her ladybug rain boots—and, sometimes, the matching rain jacket and umbrella (no matter what the weather). She wanted to stomp in the biggest puddles and conquer the world one polka-dotted step at a time.
It got me thinking about other books we’ve read that inspire outdoor adventures…
I’m not good at lying, so I’m not going to pretend here. I am not prepared for the school year to start. I know that a lot of the country is already back in the swing of things, but my girls have another few weeks before the big yellow bus comes rolling down our street. And I’m not so good with the whole preparedness thing (although sometimes I really do try).
That’s sort of my problem: a lack of preparation. I always have good intentions, but my complete and utter lack of preparation sidelines my big plans more often than not. I’m really good at making lists of things to do. But the getting started part? Not so much.
So I’m going to try to be better this year. And I’m going to start with Ellie’s lunchbox.
I can feel my husband’s anxiety rise as the seashells clink into the bucket from their little sandy fingers. The girls’ faces are full of the bright-eyed joy that goes hand-in-hand with discovering treasures. My husband’s face is tight and thin lipped and definitely wondering where the hell are all of these seashells going to end up and how long do I have to wait to throw them out?!
Me? I fall somewhere in between. I’m one part embrace the magic and one part at what point will we tip the scales and become eligible for Hoarders?
My girls like collecting things. Gemstones. Birthday cards. Sticky candy wrappers that are still holding on to the scent of their favorite treat. While I totally understand the desire to hold on to things that make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, I also understand not wanting to live in a house that looks like the local dump.
The attempt at balancing both sides had me scrambling for a way to deal with our current seashell collection ituation. Our house was littered with partially-filled Ziploc bags of seashells waiting to find a home. We could have thrown them all out, but I liked the idea of doing something special with them, in hopes of bringing back a little of that bright-eyed joy whenever my girls see them.
This post is sponsored by Tobacco Free New York State. All opinions are my own.
I have always thought smoking is disgusting. I remember sitting in the back of a limo on the way to a bar mitzvah in middle school and watching one of my classmates pull a pack of cigarettes out of her sequined purse, as if she was the coolest thing since roll-on body glitter. She lit one, cracking the window and puffing outside while giggling like a fiend and no doubt feeling like a total bad ass. She passed it around and some of our friends took a puff, while others pretended to look through her as if they had no idea what was happening.
I was one of the latter.
The idea of inhaling poisonous fumes combined with the amount of trouble I would get into if I was caught was way too much for me. I would have been happy to melt right into the slippery leather seats.