It doesn’t have to be pretty, just distracting for little growing minds. You might even find a moment to write a blog post. Or stare vacantly at nothing for a little bit because we all need to do that sometimes these days.
You will need:
Any old recyclables that will hold water for any length of time. (Flimsy cardboard can be fun and suspenseful – when will the walls fall apart in a gloppy mess?)
Water
Maybe a plastic cup or old yogurt container?
Maybe a towel on the floor if you are doing this inside?
Children (They generally come with their own soil, bugs, plants, smears of dirt across their cheeks, and whatever is lying around in the yard that you don’t want them to touch. Like dog poop. My youngest recently snagged a small piece lying on the side of the road and triumphantly thrust it into the air like an Olympic torch. “I found poop!” he cried proudly. He didn’t even seem ashamed as my oldest and I yelled simultaneously, “PUT IT DOWN!” He just kept grinning and dropped it. “Poop!” He chuckled to himself, shaking his head, as if it were an old joke that just never stops being funny. Come to think of it, do poop jokes ever really stop being funny? Or maybe they are just vastly more amusing when compared to the stark visions of our neighbors in facemasks? Nope. I’m pretty sure our inner children secretly delight in them, no matter the circumstances.)
My humble water table may not have all the bells and whistles of the beauties being sold for $44.99 by Target or Amazon, but my children do not seem to notice. In an effort to be thrifty as well as limit the number of packages coming to my home, I have restricted my purchases, and this Covid-induced embrace of the minimalist movement is quite refreshing.
Side note: Don’t you love how pandemics make you realize what you really need? And that the fancy features of store-bought water tables are ultimately inconsequential because children are happy with old plastic bakery containers?
Aside from giving the resident adults their moments of zen and prideful thriftiness, water tables are fantastic sensory and scientific experiences for kiddos. What does the water feel like on my hand? How does it flow out of this old yogurt container? Does the leaf, stick, or rock float? Am I allowed to splash my adult with water? They will perform these little experiments all on their own. Ultimately, this kind of open-ended play can engage children for long periods of quiet, focused time. Time that can be spent staring vacantly or coming up with another poop joke.
Another side note: Isn’t it amazing how pandemics can help you let go and give your children the space to make their own discoveries?
The day is done, and my kiddos are in bed. As I lovingly checked on them just now, I asked softly, “Would you like me to sing you one more lullaby?”
“Sing a poop song, Mom,” said my youngest. Please leave a comment if you know a good one.
Update: The DIY Quarantine Water Table has now become a dirt-filled home for potato bugs or “Toto bugs,” as we like to call them.
Lemonade from Infected Lemons 