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.