Seize the Chaos Doesn't Mean Free For All

Yes, there are rules. No, I don't want my house to become a war zone.

There's a common misunderstanding about my 'Seize the Chaos' philosophy: people think it means I let the children run wild, like tiny anarchists with a vendetta against drywall. 

Let me clear this up.

Yes, I believe in open-ended play. Yes, I provide rich, engaging invitations to explore, create, imagine, and test boundaries. I'm not trying to raise a feral pack of window smashers, however.

If I didn't have real, thoughtful boundaries, my windows would be shattered by now. My furniture would be covered in permanent marker murals. the dogs and cat would be painted like circus animals. And my floors? Let's just say, children are more than capable of turning a home into an indoor pool if given the opportunity. 

I understand; this behavior's not malicious; it's a deeply developmental issue.

Children are hard-wired to test things, not just rules, but objects, materials, and the physical world itself. They want to know: What happens if I do this? Can I break it? Can I make it louder? Faster? Wetter? Messier? 

When a child figures out that a plastic dinosaur tail gouges the drywall with just the right amount of force and angle? It's not just a one-time event. It becomes a science experiment. A cause and effect loop with a dramatic visual payoff. 

So yes, I believe in seizing the chaos-but within boundaries. Structured, thoughtful, chaos-resistant boundaries.  

She Slept Through Her Entire Makeover

Rules That Keep the Chaos Constructive

Here are some of the systems I have in place so my home, my materials, and my sanity can survive the glorious mess of childhood:

1. Boundaries Are Built Into the Invitation 

Every invitation to play has limits baked into it. If we're doing a water activity, it's not a "flood the main floor" activity. It's water in a bin, on a waterproof mat, with towels at the ready. If we are painting, we've got on smocks, washable paint, and the understanding that it's a hard no on painting the dog. 

2. We Talk About the Rules -- Before Play Starts

Before a single toy or material is laid out, we discuss how to treat it, what's allowed, and what cleanup will look like. This isn't for control; it's to help children understand the responsibility that comes with freedom. if you're old enough to mix the shaving cream with the glitter and the rocks, you're old enough to help wipe it up, too. In fact, in some situations, children find the cleanup part the most fun.

3. I Choose Materials Like A Battle-Hardened General

I've learned the hard way, and the expensive way, which toys, materials, and house fixtures stand the test of toddler destruction. Imagine this scenario: I took home five samples of flooring when I redid my floors. When I got these samples home, I placed them on the table and banged them with the claw side of a hammer. The ones that didn't ding, chip, and scratch are the ones that went on to further testing. Further testing that required the use of knives, rocks, screwdrivers, lighters, and Sharpies. After five years, I'm pretty happy with the abuse my floor has managed to take; it's got some battle scars, but overall it's held up fairly well. When I choose something new for the play space, I ask:

• How easily can this be broken?

• Are there weak points that little fingers or teeth will target within ten minutes?

• If a child throws this full force at the wall, what would break, my wall or the toy?

Spoiler alert: It's almost always the wall. I do a lot of touch-up plastering and painting throughout the year.

4. Some Things Are Non-Negotiable

Some rules are just flat-out no's. No hitting walls, people, pets, or furniture. No throwing toys. No sneaking paint, glue, or glitter into your mouth. No, the sand stays in the sandbox. These are not up for debate, and yes, I enforce them consistently.

5. Freedom Within A Frame

Kids get to experiment but within a safe, respectful frame. For example:

• Want to throw? We throw soft things in designated zones.
• Want to pour and mix and make goopy messes? Great at the sensory table, not on the couch.
• Want to test your limits? Fantastic. But you'll also help clean it up, reflect on what worked and what didn't, and learn that every action has a reaction.

A Note On Destructive Play: I Have A Basket For That

There is actually a developmental reason behind destructive tendencies in children, especially during early childhood. Destructive play is often part of what's called a trajectories schema, where children explore the physical properties of objects through movement, force, repetition, and, yes, destruction. 

According to Early Childhood Development Research, destructive behaviors aren't always about misbehavior or defiance. Often, they are a way for children to:

• Understand how materials work
• Explore cause and effect
• Release sensory or emotional energy
• Assert independence

That obviously doesn't mean we let them destroy everything in sight. 

It does mean we give them safe, structured outlets to get that destruction out of their system, and one of my favorite tools for this is the Destruction Basket.

What Is the Destruction Basket?

The destruction basket is the reason that my partner thinks I am a hoarder, and some of the parents, when they come to pick up their children, believe that I am caring for their children in a garbage dump. All kidding aside, it's exactly what it sounds like: A box or bin full of soft, safe-to-destroy items designed for pulling apart, smashing, biting, and breaking down. Egg cartoons, cardboard tubes, chunks of foam, sponge, packing peanuts, corrugated cardboard, coffee filters, magazines and flyers, packing paper, cereal and granola boxes, yarn, twine, fabric scraps, ribbons, Velcro strips, bubble wrap, washcloths, and woven placemats, whose only purpose is to provide children with the tearing, squishing, crushing, destroying outlet that they need, without damaging anything important.

This is especially useful for kids who are sensory seekers or who seem to need to test things to the breaking point. Instead of punishing that urge, I redirect it to a place where it's safe and encouraged. And you know what? Once they've had their fill of tearing things apart in a controlled way, they're often more settled and focused in the rest of their play. 

This is how I support the developmental needs and protect the walls at the same time. Win-win.

Seize The Chaos ... Within Limits

So no, Seize the Chaos isn't a free for all. It's not an excuse for an explosion of broken toys and painted pets. Its a conscious intentional approach to letting children play big, messy, and bold while respecting space, materials, people, and living things.

Because honestly? The real magic of childhood happens when you let the chaos in, but make sure it wipes its feet at the door.

Rainbow Chickpeas: A Sensory Invitation

 The Joy of a Chaotic Moment

Sometimes, the best kind of play is the kind that starts with a bin of potential and ends with a floor covered in chickpeas.

On this particular day, our invitation was simple: a sensory bin containing brightly dyed chickpeas in every color of the rainbow — red, yellow, blue, green, and purple. Alongside the bin, I gave the children an assortment of measuring cups, spoons, plastic paint palettes, toy pots, cups, and a couple of small juice jugs. Nothing fancy. Nothing directed. Just open-ended provocation for the children to follow their mighty learner instincts

And did they ever.

There was pouring, 

sorting, 

scooping, 

tipping, stirring, 

measuring, 

pretending, 
tasting... almost!

negotiating, 

laughing, 

spilling, 

gathering,

and

sprinkling. 

In their imaginary little worlds, they created soup, cookies, and cakes. They carefully sorted the beans by color into the wells of the paint pallets. They filled the pink pot over and over again, creating the most marvelous tinkling sound. They made potions with intense concentration. They shared scoops with friends. When the chickpeas spilled onto the floor, as they inevitably do, there was a moment, a brief one, where chaos reigned. Then they just kept playing. Clean-up will eventually happen, but not until the chaos ebbs.

Through the Lens of FLIGHT

This simple provocation opened the door to so many learning possibilities through Alberta FLIGHT Framework:

Playing and Playfulness: The children's joy was tangible as they giggled over the sounds of chickpeas clinking into metal pots or mimicked grown-up baking rituals. Their play was spontaneous, imaginative, and entirely their own. Their number one goal was just exploration and delight.

Seeking: Curiosity led the way. They tested how many scoops it would take to fill a cup, how full they could make a pot before it overflowed, and how to separate red from purple. They explored volume, texture, sound, and color all through self-directed inquiry.

Participating: Social dynamics were buzzing. Children offered each other tools, helped form colored piles together, negotiated turns, and shared imaginary recipes. Play became a collaborative language that fostered belonging and communication.

Persisting: When chickpeas fell, they were gathered again. When one pallet tipped, it was refilled. When tools weren't quite right for the job, the children adapted. There was a quiet determination in the air, problem-solving in every scooping motion.

Caring: Care was expressed in the attention children gave to their creations, in the way they helped friends gather spilled peas, in their willingness to work alongside one another in the shared space, and in their willingness to clean the mess when the play was over. The materials were respected even when they were scattered.

Seizing the Chaos

There's something powerful about leaning into the mess, about letting go of control and trusting that meaningful learning often looks like noise, color, and just a little bit of mayhem.

As adults, it can be tempting to curate neat experiences with tidy outcomes. This moment reminded me that real learning is often unscripted. It's found in the middle of the floor, surrounded by runaway chickpeas, when no one is directing the play and everyone is deeply immersed in it.

So yes, we made a mess.

Yes, I will be finding chickpeas in odd corners for days.

However, we found joy, wonder, connection, and creativity.

I'll take that every time.

Seeds, Bees, and Chaos In Motion

 Seizing the Chaos at the Pond's Edge

Today we took a walk.

We didn't pack any field guides or clipboards. We didn't have a plan. What we did have was open eyes, gentle hands, strong legs, and hearts ready to be enthralled with the wonders around us. That's enough. In fact, that is more than enough required to seek adventure. 

It was calm and overcast, but even without the sun, the pond was dancing with sparkling ripples. The trees standing in reverence and protection at its side, birds weaving on invisible lines through the air. It's a storm pond, sure. But today it was something sacred. 

We touched everything. The children stroked the leaves and petals with curious fingers, comparing textures like the young scientists in muddy shoes: Soft, smooth, fuzzy, and even, for those brave enough, prickly. They noticed and talked about everything. The vocabulary possibilities were limitless. 

"Bees eats the flowers"

The children picked clover and dandelions, but not all of them.

"Bees eats the flowers," one child declared.

I also explained that flowers are the way the plant makes seeds for new flowers. This idea was passed from one child to the next like a treasured secret. 

"Flowers make the seeds", they whispered.

Make a BIG wish....

We blew parachute seeds into the air and watched them drift in the air. Over and over, giggling and delighted, they sent the seeds soaring. 

We met a 6-month-old Yorkie puppy who accepted love from every small hand. 

We watched bees drink nectar from fireweed and we talked about pollination and honey making. One child quietly whispered, Bees are fuzzy like kittys". I told them I think bees are magical, and most of them seem to agree.

We pointed out ducks on the water, ripples hinting at fish below, and tried to guess the name of a bright redheaded bird that none of us could identify. A mystery that still lingers in the back of my mind, as the little mystery would not let me get close enough to get a good picture. 

"Its not often we get to use our sense of taste when in nature"

The Saskatoon berries, ripe ones, not two ripe ones, and those still waiting, drew the children like treasure hunters. They observed, selected, collected, and brought them home. Them and taste at the moment all over again. The more senses we use when we're learning, the greater the joy and experiential knowledge we gain. It's not often we get to use our sense of taste in nature, but it's very special when we can. 

We also saw rose hips, but they were still green. We also explored pine cones and spruce cones, causing sticky fingers of curiosity as we touched, smelled, and looked at these miracles of nature. 

Their feet, attached to their brains so full of curiosity that they could not stay on the path because the world was just too interesting on either side, Ran from one side of the path to the other drinking in everything they see like the little sponges they so often are at this age.

Reflecting Through the FLIGHT Lens

This wasn't just a walk.

it was a spontaneous explosion of:

Play and Playfulness - blowing dandelion fluff, running down paths, chasing flying seeds.

Seeking- Every question, every discovery, every "What's that"? Whispered into the wind.

Caring- Learning not to pick every flower, watching bees quietly, letting the duck float undisturbed.

Participating- With the world, with each other, with nature as both stage and co-actor.

Persisting- When the right colored berries were hard to spot, when the thistle stung a fingertip, when the grass got thick and tall, making it hard to walk through.

These are the learning dispositions that matter, not just for school readiness, but for life. They don't come from curriculum checklists. They come from being in the world, from seizing the chaos.

Seize the Chaos, Always

If we tried to plan this experience, if we tried to package it neatly, we would have missed the best parts. The moment the red bird landed. The flow of seeds catching the wind. The feel of a Thistle's prick. The taste of a berry plucked fresh by one's own fingers. The sound of a Red-Winged-Blackbird trilling in the bullrushes.

We didn't create the magic. 

We just showed up for it. 

That's what Seizing the Chaos looks like in early learning. 

Messy. 

Honest. 

Full of Beauty. 

Full of life. 

Let this be a reminder: 

The setting doesn't need to be perfect. 

The plan doesn't need to be polished. 

The learning is already happening. 

If we let it.

We just have to remember to follow our little seeds into their tornadoes, and just keep floating along with them into the chaos!

Let Them Paint the Tray: Embracing the Beautiful Detour

We were supposed to make spoon puppets, but instead, I followed the children and the paint into the great unknown.

Some days in early childhood go exactly as planned.
This was not one of those days.
And honestly? I wouldn't have changed a thing.
The goal was simple: we were going to make wooden spoon puppets. I had the materials ready, the wooden spoons set out, and a tray provided for the children to paint on because, of course, I didn't want the table to become a canvas. You know where this is going, right?
Before the spoons even got a drop of color, the children became completely captivated by the tray. The shine of that in, the way the paint slid across it, the satisfying swoops their brushes could make, the enticing circle pattern - this was their inspiration. Within moments, the tray wasn't just a background tool. It was the main event.

And yet, what happened was rich, layered learning-unplanned, unexpected, and utterly worth it.

I could have redirected them. I could have gently insisted, “Let's focus on our puppets now”. But why? They were engaged, connected, and joyful. They were learning.
When we loosen our grip on the plan, something magical happens. We begin to trust the children as co-constructors of knowledge. We recognize that the goal isn't the finished product, it's the process, the discovery, the mess, the momentum.

What were they learning? More than I could have planned.

Using Alberta’s FLIGHT framework as my lens, here's what emerged:

Seeking - They were curious. They asked questions through their actions: What happens if I mix these colors? What if I pour the paint into the water? What happens if I use a paper towel to soak it up? Every “what if” was a mini science experiment wrapped in color.

Play and Playfulness - The laughter and delight was unmistakable; they were immersed in joy, hands messy, minds buzzing.

Participating - They took turns, shared tools, and observed each other's methods. This wasn't just individual exploration - it was a collective and creative journey they embarked on together.

Persisting - Despite the absence of a clear product or direction, they stayed focused. They leaned into the process, moving organically from one step to the next.

What started as an art project became a sensory experiment, a team-building activity, and an unintentional lesson in cause and effect.

This is what I mean when I talk about “Seizing the Chaos”, it's not just about tolerating the detour. It's about celebrating it

Sometimes our job as educators and caregivers isn't to guide the children back to the original plan; it's to follow them down the rabbit hole of their curiosity, knowing full well we might land somewhere even better.

So, no, we didn't make spoon puppets today. But we did make something more important: space.

Space for creativity.

Space for trust.

Space for wonder.

And tomorrow?

The spoons will still be there.

So, if you're an early learning educator, a parent, or simply someone navigating life with little ones--let them paint the tray. Let the water get murky. Let the plan unravel.

There's magic in the mess, wisdom in the wiggles, and real learning in the detours.

Embrace your own chaos.

Follow their lead.

You might just find yourself somewhere beautiful and unexpected.

What Does Seize the Chaos Mean

Childhood is loud, wild, and beautiful.  
Don't tame the chaos, play with it

Seize the chaos is the idea that real learning happens in the middle of muddy boots, scattered puzzle pieces, cardboard towers, and bubble beard conversations. Childhood is not tidy, it's imaginative, unpredictable, and full of discovery. Why would we want it any other way?

A thoughtful wild approach to learning

Children are capable, curious, and full of potential. They should be trusted to lead the way in their learning. I provided the space, tools, and encouragement to support them with their journey. A thoughtfully designed environment rich in loose parts, natural elements, and unexpected materials—everything from silk scarves to giant nuts and bolts, textured sponges, colored gelatin, and many upcycled treasures. Offering these open-ended resources invites children to experiment, invent, and express themselves in ways that are unique and meaningful to them. Most importantly, I follow them and allow them to lead me to the strange, beautiful places their learning takes them.

Messy is meaningful

Whether a child is elbow deep in a bubbling water bin, painting a castle with glue running down the sides, or nesting in a fallen pillow fort of their own creation, what you're seeing is not just play; it's problem-solving, emotional regulation, creative thinking, and social learning in action.

A place that feels like home

My day home is warm, inclusive, and relationship-driven. I foster a sense of belonging by listening deeply to children, honoring their voices, and supporting their individual growth. I value diversity, ensuring that every child feels seen, respected, and celebrated. I embrace joyful messes, big emotions, quiet moments, and wild ideas-because that's where real connection and learning bloom.