Improv-a-mama

#1 Being playful is not the same as being happy.

As an improv performer and teacher, I knew that play felt good but when I wasn’t “in the zone,” my work as an improvisor often suffered (and of course I would go home and rehash every minute of it over and over again).  Using improv in life is similar in that when I can get the improvisational flow going, it feels great and when I can’t…life feels quite a bit more flat.  That flow is easier to find starting from a happy place.

AND yet…I was surprised and grateful when my knowledge of improv allowed me to stay playful (or at least have playful moments) while struggling with PPD.  I was so overwhelmed with sadness and feelings of despair and then here was this incredible gift.  My knowledge of and experience with play was useful;  truly, it was a lifeline that helped me feel connected with LP even in the haze of PPD.

I continue to rely on improv principles and activities to keep life playful when the going gets tough.  It is SO MUCH easier to be playful when I feel happy but I’ve learned that I don’t need to be happy to be playful. AND play often lifts my spirits, even if it is temporary.

#2 I sometimes feel self-conscious about being playful

I’ve been professionally playful for over a decade — teaching improvisation, working as a drama therapist and just plain bringing my sense of play into every day life.  Yet I can get in my head and self-conscious about public expressions of this playful self that is the real me.  It is easy to be playful at home with my family or when my professional role calls for playfulness. More difficult is keeping that sense of play alive in my daily life when the worry voices nibble at my awareness.  Even being a playful parent in public can be a challenge sometimes. There is such a culture of judgment of parents that even if no one is judging me, I’m imagining they are! And that sure does get in the way of feeling playful

#3: My playful and your playful are different…AND that is GOOD!

In general, I’m a quiet person. And so much of my playfulness shows up in a quiet way.  I often have a little bit of envy of parents I meet who can  rally a group of kids and energize them into active, group play.  Suddenly everyone is rolling on the ground with laughter or in an amazing game of tag.  That parent is usually not me.

I am I think my strength is drawing out shy kids or in smaller interactions (1 or 2 kids). I like to observe the play that is happening and find places to say “yes!” to ideas and be an aide to bring those ideas to life. Play comes in all shapes and sizes AND when I see a big person playing in a way that I enjoy (or envy), I can work to stretch myself and see what happens if I practice a different kind of play.

Do you have a playful confession to make?

This post is part of the Moms’ 30 Minute Blog Challenge over at SteadyMom…just made it in at the 30 minute mark this week!

One of my favorite parts of improvisation is making up songs.  And parenting offers many opportunities to make up songs with your small people.

Now many, many folks are naturally drawn to make up songs to babies and then get a wee bit self-conscious as their kids get older.  Part 1 of this series of posts will focus on some warm-ups that can get you into (or back into) a singing groove.

1) Sing what you would say

Or to use the fancy opera word — use recitative.  Yup, sung speech. Doesn’t get more simple than that. (And if you like that…you can get dramatic and move into playing with your voice to create an aria. Imagine singing out “It’s time for dinner! Time for dinner! Time for dinner, dinner, dinner, dinner….diiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnneeeeeeeeer!”)

2) Take a favorite song and alter a few words:

Twinkle, twinkle, little book

How I long to take a look

I wish I could read you now

I’d even read you to a cow

Twinkle, twinkle, little book

How I long to take a look

(I sing this as I look longingly at my library books…and read LP another round of hers)

When you feel comfortable with that, keep the whole tune but make up all new words.

OR use the tune and replace it with all animal noises.

3) Use karaoke music tracks and sing your own words to them (this is particularly great with music you don’t know)

4) Make up one sentence and see how many different ways you can sing it…as a country western song, a blues song, punk rock, and so on and so on and so on.

This post is part of the Moms’ 30 Minute Blog Challenge over at SteadyMom.

Yes, yes, yes! The City of Emeryville Guide is out and it is official. I’ll be teaching two classes there this Fall. Both classes — Improvisation & Personal Development and Playtime for Parents — are inspired by the work of parenting and improvising these past few years.

Here’s all the info including how to register:

Improvisation and Personal Development

This fun and interactive one-day class will explore how the practice of improvisation increases confidence, optimism and interpersonal skills. Join in this one-day journey of personal exploration through improv and rediscover how your creativity can transform your life. No prior improv experience is necessary and shy people are welcome.

Class# 1367

Date: Saturday, September 25th

Time: 10am -5pm

Location: Emeryville Recreation Center

Cost: $125

Playtime for Parents

Parents often hear about the importance of play, yet sometimes feel uncomfortable jumping into action with their children. This two-part class for parents uses improvisation to create a safe and lively environment to explore play. Have fun in class and take home new ways to engage your children.

Dates: Sundays October 3rd and 10th

(there is a misprint in the Emeryville Activity Guide…above are the correct dates)

Time: 1-4pm

Location: Emeryville Recreation Center

Cost: $80

Register for classes through the City of Emeryville

Link for Fall 2010 Activity Guide

http://www.emeryville.org/index.aspx?NID=418

From this page, you can get to Online Registration.  Search for classes by Activity Number. Improvisation & Personal Development is #1367. Playtime for Parents is #1368.

LP was a horse named Jack today. All day long.

She played being a horse. She did art as a horse, explored a creek as a horse, planted seeds as a horse and ate meals as a horse. She ate pretend horse meals as well. LP spoke like a horse and she spoke about horses.  A rock was a curry brush and pebbles were her oats. After dinner, she had a horse bath and put on a “horse blanket” (pajamas).  Then she wanted some grain.

Unsuspecting Improvamama filled a metal mixing bowl with many pieces of lego.

LP screamed, “NOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!   THIS IS NOT GRAIN! THIS IS SQUARE LEGOS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Oh.

Fortunately, my little horse was open to the suggestion of eating a pre-bedtime cracker instead.

LP’s favorite thing in our wee garden this year has been the carrots.

Unfortunately, most days she does not want to eat the carrots (and does not want anyone else to eat the carrots).  I’m really not sure why because this girl will eat anything that she can pick herself — tomatoes and peas, of course but also radishes, kale, and okra.  For whatever reason, she’s decided that the carrots are to play with and not to eat. There has been more than one meltdown when I wanted take a carrot or two to use for dinner. Our friend T who was visiting for a few days had coaxed her into eating a carrot and there was much added pleasure in the carrot experience.

Until she picked this one.

I was excited about it. Look at it!  It is totally cool! I was all ready to jump into exploring the way the five carrots had grown together. LP pretty much shrugged and was ready to move on to something else all together.

I was puzzled.  I watched her play with other things while T and I marveled at it and took a bunch of photos.  She did make her way over to us and then took the carrot off for her own exploration…and eventual snack.

I wonder what her thought process was. My best guess is that she had an expectation of what was going to come out of the ground and when that expectation was not correct, she needed a little time to regroup and let the expectation go. She needed time to be able to say “yes” to the unusual carrot.

When I think about the experience in that frame, I feel so empathetic because even at my best, I have trouble switching gears when I have strong expectations.  Even when I really, really, really want to say “yes” because the new, unexpected thing looks fun or delicious or intriguing, I need time to make an internal shift.

It was a great reminder for me to not push too hard or fast when I think something is “interesting.”  The wacky carrots were still wacky and wonderful 15 minutes later.

This post is part of the Moms’ 30 Minute Blog Challenge over at SteadyMom.

I’m always interested in expanding and deepening my understanding of stories and storytelling and the web can be a treasure trove of ideas.

Here are some story inspiration links:

Pirates in Pajamas (I linked to the homepage so you can see how their story begins…there’s lots of great ideas on the site and their blog for storybuilding)

“How We Tell Stories” at Teacher Tom’s Blog (So much to read an enjoy on Teacher Tom’s blog! Reading about daily life and action at his preschool often inspires me to look at what I can do with LP in a new light.)

“Storytelling Tips for Oral Language Development” at Literacy Connections (Straightforward and specific.  A little something for the left side of your brain.)

“If I had the Courage…” at the Improvisational Storyteller (This is my friend Kat’s bog.  Contemplating her questions inspired me in my own storytelling AND I love the idea to starting stories using the magic “if.” I can see using it to explore emotions with LP by starting stories “If I felt sad…” or “If I felt mad…”)

Do you have a favorite story structure or link to share? I’d love it if you would share!

This bog is part of the Moms’ 30 Minute Blog Challenge over at SteadyMom.

Performing improvisors know the almost impossible to resist pull of going onstage when a scene is going well.

I’ve stood on the sidelines knowing that I am not needed — the actors are solidly playing the characters they have created, the story is flowing, the audience is laughing or crying — and yet, I want to be onstage. I want to be a part of that. Who wouldn’t? When it feels good just to be close to that action, it is easy to imagine that it would be incredible to be in the middle of it. That thought is never at the forefront of my consciousness; my imagination gives me all kinds of ideas that would justify getting out there, but underneath it all, I know that I just want to be out there for the good stuff.  From inside a scene that is rocking and rolling along, I’ve felt the “oh no” as other improvisors pile on in to try and be a part of it.

It is the flipside of hanging out in the wings when things are going badly and you don’t know what to do. When the stage is cold and the improvisors on it are floundering, just getting yourself on the stage to make some kind of offer is the best thing. When you do that, even if it doesn’t help the scene, at the very least, your fellow players know they are not alone. There is the difference — when the stage is cold, we need to be reminded that we are not alone and return to the most basic principles of taking care of our partners and triggering their imaginations.  When the stage is hot, we need to know that sometimes the best offer is the one held back in respect of what is already happening.  The choice to not to do something can be just as playful and wonderful a choice as doing something.

I have gotten (and given) the post-show note, “You weren’t needed in that scene. Stay offstage.” It is common. It is so human. When there’s fun, we want in.  Yet going on stage when you are not needed often throws a scene off-kilter.  The magic of the moment can be deflated by the over-eager newcomer.

And so it is in playing with our little people too. There is a delicate balance to be found between offering opportunities to play together, joining play, letting the little people take the lead, taking the lead, and staying out of it.

Which brings me to yesterday morning’s cat pancakes.

LP & I had a number of days in a row where all our mornings felt rushed. So yesterday we were taking it slow and I suggested making pancakes for breakfast. The response was an enthusiastic “YES!”

In the middle of helping pour and mix, she climbed down from the stepstool to harvest some cats to add. (She has long been into the book Farm Fresh Cats by Scott Santoro.  In this book, Farmer Ray’s cabbage crop mysteriously turns into a cat crop. Very quirky and fun.) She went back and forth a number of times, harvesting her imaginary cats from the other room and running in to add them to the pancake batter. Throughout this, I bantered with her –calling her “Farmer Ray” and talking about cat harvest — while cooking and cleaning up a bit.

Once the pancakes (with blueberries) were cooking, LP was back on the stool counting cat eyes (blueberries). Her face was alight with delight, her energy was big and bold; it was just fun to be next to her.  And I noticed myself start to think about making pancakes in the shape of cats. Surely that would be even more fun, right?

Fortunately there was no space to start a new pancake at the moment of that idea so I got to sit with it a minute. And realized that, LP was completely engrossed in the experience she had created.  My offer of cat-shaped pancakes (which of course won’t really look much more like real cats than my un-cat-shaped pancakes), would be the equivalent of going onstage when I am not needed. My offer of shaping the pancakes intentionally like cats might have  deflated her imagining of them.

LP’s imagination was off and running, her play was full and robust.  She was showing me the level of interaction that added to her pleasure;  my role was mostly audience with a little verbal interaction.  If she had been minimally engaged in playing this out, joining her in harvesting the cats or making my sorta-cat-shaped pancakes would be invitations for more engagement as I tested out things to spark her imagination.

Throughout breakfast, I stayed focus on being appreciative  audience for LP’s Farmer Ray;  It was easy to do, especially since Farmer Ray enjoyed her cat pancakes with gusto.

I’m always on the look out for writing about play that inspires me and (or) makes me think. Here are some of my current favorites on the web:

“A Part of Their World: Adult Roles in Child’s Play”  at Not Just Cute

“Let Kids Just Play” at Raising Happiness

“just add places to pause, places to hide, places to rest” at Let the Children Play

“Power Struggles Dissolve with Laughter” at Hand in Hand Parenting

The sunflowers we planted in our butterfly garden are giving us a lovely surprise.  The package says to expect 3-4 foot plants and ours are growing beyond expectations.

I’m getting a lot of delight watching our sunflowers grow…especially since they are growing beyond the boundaries of our expectations and I like that as a metaphor. We, like the sunflower seeds, have all this potential for growth inside if we can find, make and/or create the conditions for it to happen.  Sometimes in the daily, weekly repetitive grind of parenting, I forget to see all the ways that I have grown.

Something I love about being an improvisor is that there is always room for growth.  There is always room to deepen storytelling, play more nuanced characters, develop new skills at an accent, learn a new genre – the list goes on and on.  I find that to be true as a parent too; there is so much room to develop patience, learn new approaches to supporting independence and skill-building, new ways to play together….yes, that list goes on and on as well. There is a challenge in both cases, to appreciate and enjoy the stage you are at, while working on the next new thing.  AND like those sunflowers growing taller than expected, I have experienced in both arenas, growth I did not predict or expect.

Those sunflower seeds have the inner code to grow and so do we.  Whatever our metaphoric water and sun and good soil is, it is good when we find it and can grow more than anyone, even ourselves expected.

LP has caught the “sunflower bug” too. When it is time to wash hands in the bathroom, she crouches on the stepstool until I act out watering and shining the sun on her and she grows tall enough to reach the sink. (Actually I quite look forward to her growing another inch or two so she can reach the faucet on her own….that or I need to find a taller stepstool for her.)

This post is part of the Moms’ 30 Minute Blog Challenge at SteadyMom.

I keep trying to write this post and failing.  My words tangle and snarl up. My thoughts that seem so clear at 3 am arrive on the screen without a sense of cohesion.  So I’m trying a 30-Minute attempt it and accept that it may take more than one post for me to dig out the meaning AND connect it to the practice of improv.

We all have habits of mind. There are many ways these are useful; we develop these habits for good reasons.  But life changes, we change and sometimes old habits of mind aren’t useful anymore.  Many spiritual practices and therapy modalities have techniques for noticing and letting go (or changing) habits of mind.

These days I find I am particularly challenged by  my own habits of mind that are not useful anymore. And it is hard to let them go.

After LP’s birth, I suffered from postpartum depression. One of the places I experience the lingering effects is in my habits of mind.  I used to be a much more hopeful, optimistic person and I miss that way of being. I have the distinct experience of having my generally positive view of the world enhanced over the years by the practice of  improv. And then I have the distinct experience of my generally positive view of the world being absorbed by all of the dark, sad and lonely feelings of ppd.

One reason that I say that the practice of improvisation builds optimism is that creating together opens us up to alternate stories.   When we create together in the moment, we have a give and take of ideas and actions. The story that I start to tell in my head, leaping forward into the future, is not the story that gets told because my partner has different ideas.  Together we find a story path which is different than the story we would tell either of us alone. The world and specifically any given moment becomes filled with possibilities.

When I get drawn back down in my negative habits of mind, I am not in the present. I am spinning in the sadness of the past. I am wrapped up in grief for the things that didn’t happen and the experiences I missed out on because I was depressed. My world becomes quite narrow and I lose sight of those possible other stories.

An example:

LP has been getting more easily frustrated recently and cries out, “I can’t do it. It’s too hard.”  This shakes me.  I believe this is all part of her normal development; she’s three and struggling to be more independent while simultaneously longing for dependence. Yet I have fears about how my ppd has affected her and those particular words are triggering for me. All those months when that is what I felt day after day — “I can’t do this. It’s too hard.” Every day for 10 months before I found a treatment that helped me and even then it took almost 2 years to feel like myself again.

To help me not go spinning off into my own sadness when this occurs, I made a plan.  When she says it, I am prepared to sit by her side and say “I know you can do this” and “Why don’t you give it another try?” and “You feel like it’s hard. It’s good to try hard things.” and “I’m going to stay right here with you while you try again” or “I’ll be in the other room when you’ve done it” (depends on the circumstance). I need these prepared responses because otherwise I get caught up in over-thinking (and over-feeling) the moment, ascribing meaning to it that it may or may not have…I cannot know for sure.  And we need to get through the day.

That’s my time cut-off too….so more to come in part two.

This post is part of the Moms 30 Minute Blog Challenge; a really wonderful idea (that keeps me writing at least once a week!) from Jamie over at SteadyMom.

This craft project has been in the works for a long time.  I was inspired by Future Craft Collective’s Prayer, Wish, Hope Flags. I even sewed up a bunch of muslin flags a few months ago. Where those flags have gone, I do not know.  So starting over, I decided to use the basic idea of the flags to create a photo banner that could brighten up LP’s room (with her favorite color as the base). At first I was going to make iron on photo transfers but then I remembered I had leftover photo sleeves which also have the added bonus of letting us swap the photos.

I sewed the flags while LP played with pins and thread.  Then discovered that while my old scrapbook photoholders were a good idea, they didn’t actually stick to the fabric.  So I sewed them to the flags. Voila!

LP chose the photos and I printed them out on our ink jet printer.

Here’s a close up of one flag (LP with her beloved chickens):

And here’s the whole thing:

I’m looking forward to seeing how the photo rotation goes. I think it will be a fun way to prepare for visiting family and friends and remembering special occasions.

LP has taken up grunting a sound that is close to “yeah” instead of saying “yes.”

It bugs me.

So I started paying attention to what I actually say when I mean “yes.”

I say a lot of things — ok, sure, uh huh, yeah, in a minute and soon. I nod. I do what she asks without saying anything at all.

Yes is a beautiful word. It is a pleasure to hear. Truly, I find it a pleasure to say. And I had let it slip out of my vocabulary.

So that is my improv practice for the week.

To say “yes.” Literally.

This post is part of the Moms’ 30 Minute Blog Challenge over at SteadyMom.

This idea is borrowed from our friends down the block. Last week when LP & I went over to play, her friend E showed us his outdoor kitchen. I thought it was a brilliant idea AND we have a lot of old building supplies hanging around (cinder blocks, slate slabs, bricks).  Since we rent and the owner wants to hold on to this stuff, this is a great way to use it and not just keep moving it out of the way.

LP & I planted a “kitchen garden” of parsley, basil & poppies in the cinder blocks.  We’ll see what happens…for the meantime, it has added a new fun element to the yard.

This post is part of the Moms 30 minute blog challenge over at SteadyMom.

This past week has been going on for years.

There has been a lot of screaming from LP and a lot of insomnia from me (I’m not sure if there is a direct relationship or if those are two things that just happen to be going on simultaneously). A fairly disastrous combination.  She is tired and wants me to do everything for her; I am tired and want her to please just go play for a while. She’s at the end of her rope and so am I. Our playful spirit has not been present as we retract to just plain coping, coping, coping.

I can see the factors that add up to this moment. The transition from being away to back home is always difficult for LP and we have a house guest for a week (a dear friend we haven’t seen who is lovely in just about every way and has spoiled us rotten with his cooking while we treat him to hours of screaming) which shakes things up. And a growth spurt. And a number of little things that have kept our regular routine from being that comfort that I’ve witnessed it be for LP.

So I’ve been battening down the hatches. Looking for ways to slow down our day, do less. So much less that I’m climbing the walls a bit. But it seems to be helping. Slowly. Very, very slowly.

This afternoon, I had a big feeling of dread.  I could see she was feeling tender and thought I needed to come up with something really great to offer to do when all I really wanted to work on a gardening project.  The side of our house has gone wild with grass and poppies and a huge thorny blackberry plant that produces no berries. Since we have so little gardening space, I want to reclaim it. I had been hesitating because I love the poppies; I find them such a cheerful flower.  So the current batch is past flowering and I realized it was the right moment to collect seeds from the pods and then plant poppies at will.

Since I really had no energy for anything else, I told LP that we were going to do a gardening project expecting it would probably last all of 10 minutes, at best. As it turned out, seed collecting was the perfect thing for us. We sat together on the path, picking and emptying pods. And talking. There was no screaming. Not a single one.  When she was ready to move on, she did. No fuss.  I sat and continued my seed collecting and then started pulling them out.  LP came and went, moving between her own play and being with me. For over an hour.

I needed that.

And by bathtime tonight, I had a little playful spirit back. Not 100% but good enough.

LP with last year's poppies

This post is part of the Moms 30 Minute Blog Challenge over at SteadyMom.

We three are  adjusting back to life at home (complete with post-vacation/travel tantrums). It was a wonderful trip to visit Grandma and Auntie K and then travel together to Orcas Island to visit with family there too. Lots of delicious time to play and explore tidepools and meet animals (such a highlight for LP! Chickens and horses and alpacas! Crabs and limpets and barnacles!)

All that open play time, gave us lots of time for low-key improv. Something I love about vacation is the slower (and mostly un-plugged) pace which makes so much more room for “yes.”

One of the most special moments was at a rest stop of all places. After lunch, LP wanted to play so I started to teach her “Red light, Green light.”  She very quickly put her own spin on it AND enticed ImprovDad and Grandma into joining us.

This is one of those moments that I like to look at from an improv perspective.  It would be so easy to tell her that this game has “rules” and we have to follow them.  AND it is so much more joyful to follow her lead, to say “yes” and create a different version that springs from LP’s spontaneity. Something in the moment triggered her imagination and I certainly had more fun playing her version which has continued to evolve.  Currently “red light” means stop, “green light” means go, “orange light” means move in slow motion, “purple light” means hop like a bunny and “brown light” means run around flapping like a chicken. (Also there isn’t one caller in LP’s game…anyone can call out the color light and everyone moves.)

We followed up with ring-around-the-rosie…and I wish I had a photo of the four of us, holding hands, going around together in the sun.

Taking in that experience reminds me how delicious improvising with little people can be;  when a small thing captures their imagination, you get a lot of mileage (and delight) out of it!

LP explores Orcas Island.

This post is part of the Moms’ 30 Minute Blog Challenge over at SteadyMom.

A surprise joy of traveling with a 3 year old is experiencing a world of inhibition in an environment (airport) that is very rule-bound. (Of course it has many challenges too…but that’s a different kind of post.)

Yesterday LP was a rooster so she was running through the airport, flapping her arms and crowing “cook-a-doodle-doo!” It was lovely and the best way to spend our hour of time before boarding. (Bonus was her being the right kind of tired to chill out for the whole 2 hour flight to Seattle.)

I love her lack of inhibition and readiness to take flight.

This post is part of the Moms’ 30 minute blog challenge over at SteadyMom.

I’ve heard Keith Johnstone (a main improvisational inspiration in my life) say, “Imagine your partner’s imagination is a strange beast and you have to figure out what to feed it.”

So that is what I am often doing in playing with LP…paying attention to what delights, frustrates and inspires her and “feeding” her imagination more of that.

Within this process, repetition is often my friend.  My girl loves to get her whole body into an experience, so as long as I’m in the mood for mess, painting or mud play never grows old.  Even in storytelling, repetition is great. We return to favorite characters and sometimes move them into new situations and experiences.  All good stuff ~ taking what I know inspires and offering more opportunities to explore.

AND I am a limited resource.  Our imaginations have boundless potential but we need to keep experimenting with what to feed them to see what leads us to explore new realms.  There are ways that my life these days is much smaller than it used to be (in terms of external stimuli) and simultaneously much more intense internally.  To give LP and myself new “food” can be a challenge.

The incredible generosity of parent blogs has often provided inspiration as do seeing what other folks do with their kids when we are out in the world. And books, books, books. I’ve been trying to deepen our weekly library trips by talking about what she wants to read/learn about and delving more into nonfiction kids books. Also to mix up books that I’m drawn to with books that LP pulls off the shelf (usually because the cover is red).

Last week, ImprovDad took LP to the library and when I looked over the books he chose, I had an “a-ha!” moment.  New material to feed our imagination was easy to come by….sometimes have someone else select the books.  ImprovDad is attracted to different stories and aesthetics than I am and it was refreshing for my imagination too!

How do you find new ways to feed your and your little people’s imaginary beasts?

Ah, the wail of the Little Person.

Recently if I ask her to get something from her room, she bursts in dramatic tears and wails, “It isn’t in my room! There’s NOTHING in my room!”

Where did this come from? I wasn’t expected that kind of reaction for a number of years yet.

For the most part I find it really hard not to laugh at this one. It is so over the top. Part of my reaction is to understand it as her wanting me to do it for her and I’m trying to give her many opportunities to do for herself these days.

Yet as I kept wondering about where that reaction came from, I stumbled on my own inner wailings about “nothing.” (or “NOTHING!”) I get it kiddo, I am familiar with feeling that I have “nothing.” As I struggle with editing and revising my novel, I come up against it all the time. Here’s this world I’ve created that needs a ton of work to get more fully out of my head and on the page and yet, I have NOTHING to write.

It is true. When I’m not inspired, I have nothing to write… or cook for dinner…or dream plan about in a quiet moment.

Now I know that inspiration isn’t just about some magical muse moment. In improv, inspiration is taking a deep breath, opening your eyes to take in what is present and allowing yourself to go with what comes next. Sometimes what comes next is magical and sometimes it is mundane. The important thing is embracing that something comes next and allowing that something to exist.

Yes, LP, sometimes it really does feel like there’s nothing. And that’s when we need someone outside ourselves to help us go look.

This post is part of the Moms’ 30 Minute Blog Challenge…written in 5 minute increments over 4 days.

LP is in that wonderful stage of flowing from being one character to another.

She’s a waiter, a duck, a gosling, a panda, a red visor, Ernie, a dinosaur and a singing chicken all in the blink of an eye.  She dresses up in her rainbow “wandering cape” and wears a tutu to be a beluga.

Sometimes she has a role for me too. I’m waitress to her waiter, multicolored visor to her red one and the Count for her Ernie.

This spontaneous character play is  a wonderful chance to act together.  Even every day tasks become more fun when done in character. LP is much more willing to wash her hands as Ernie than as herself! And helping empty the dishwasher as the waiter was a total hit.

Some little people like to stick with a script. So if they are pretending to be a character from a book or tv, they want to do exactly what they’ve seen already.  (This is also more comfortable for some big people too…if that’s you, start by playing to your strength!) Playing characters together is a great chance to stretch their (and our) imaginations.  If you are ready to see what can happen, invite your little person character to do something new (i.e. off their “script”).  It can be an set activity or craft project OR a story adventure that you act out…what happens when Ernie and the Count find a jewelry box? Or learn to fly?

You also may find that you create new scenarios that your little persons loves to repeat (because oh, how they love to repeat).  LP and I told & acted out a story about a glass multicolored visor that broke into 30 pieces that she had to fix using 30 bandaids.  We’ve acted this out many, many times. Sometimes I throw in a new detail or ask her for more details just to keep in interesting for me.

I do find that her more imaginative (i.e. non-commmercial) characters delight me more. I’m happier pretending to be characters from books or made-up on the spot or objects from around the house. Fortunately for me that is the bulk of it (probably the happy result of being a low media family) AND I realize that’s my head trip.  For LP,  the commercial characters are just part of the delightful offerings the world makes to her imagination.

Mud Painting

Spring has come at last…and nothing is better than celebrating with mud.

LP & I made a fine mud puddle in a corner of the yard and set to play with it. Mud painting was the biggest hit with her on this day.

That’s my favorite kind of play. Open-ended and messy. The mud puddle was in the sun and gloriously warm and squishy.

Improv-a-Mama gets some expert mud painting on her leg.