Wait! Before you hit the back button, I've got something new for you.

Yes, we're talking about open-ended play and, yes, you've heard it a million times before - but not like this.

This isn't another article telling you to just leave your child to explore independently using wooden blocks and everyday materials you can find around the home. It's time for some original research and invigorating ideas.

A quiet moment

Here is my second son.

He's not quite five.

And he is absorbed. Maybe even obsessed.

Back from school, the long afternoon stretches out before him. He's full of energy - the kind of boy who never stops. As a toddler he was covered in bruises from barrelling along, crashing into things, making and breaking.

But not today.

Because this is his métier. He loves to build. More importantly, he loves to imagine.

Look carefully and you’ll see that his ramshackle construction is nothing of the sort. The higgledy-piggledy blocks have a purpose.

Psst! I have an idea!

Something is whispering to him.

It’s a voice in his head. From a brain network scientists have only recently discovered.

The brain's hidden choreography

Open-ended play is any activity where your child decides what to do and how to do it. These games have no fixed ending and no ‘right’ answer.

Think blocks, dolls, vehicles - or even sticks and stones. The play can take any direction your child chooses.

So far, so familiar, right?

But there’s more going on beneath the surface.

Neuroscience has now revealed the underlying mechanism that powers this quintessential type of play: the brain networks.

The Default Mode Network (DMN). Go outside and look up at the sky. Let the clouds drift in and out of view. It won’t be long before you’re daydreaming. Your mind isn’t engaged in a specific task so it ‘defaults’ to the Default Mode Network, the part of your brain responsible for imagination. Only discovered in 2001, this network sits in the background, waiting to light up when task-focused regions switch off. The DMN is at work when your child pauses, mid-build, to think about what direction her construction will take next.

The Task Positive Network (TPN), as its name suggests, is responsible for getting things done. The DMN has the idea; the TPN follows the instructions and finishes the job.

The Executive Control Network (ECN) is the brain’s management system during play. It helps your child hold onto her goals (like the vision of a finished tower), adapt her approach when things don’t go to plan, resist distractions or frustration, and monitor progress as she builds. The ECN enables her to switch strategies flexibly: if the blocks topple, she finds a new way to stack them; if something doesn’t fit, she tries another approach. These self-regulation and problem-solving skills are still developing in childhood, which is why sustaining focus and managing challenges can be difficult for younger children.

The Salience Network is your child’s interest detector. Constantly scanning, it decides what’s exciting enough to pursue and when to switch between imagining and doing.

Children move naturally through this loop: dream (DMN) → notice (Salience) → act (TPN), with the ECN keeping them on track. Each cycle strengthens their ability to switch between imagination and focused action - a foundation for problem-solving and self-regulation.

It’s easy to see how learning to co-ordinate these networks is vital for success both at school and in later life.

Fortunately, the best way to train them is through open-ended play.

And open-ended play is fun.

The surprising scaffold

Here's where it gets really interesting. Recent research reveals that in children's developing brains, the imagination network (DMN) is matures more quickly than the executive network (ECN).

You might think that pausing in the middle of play to come up with more ideas would be distracting but that’s not what happens. Instead, the Default Mode Network holds the immature Executive Network’s hand while it learns to focus.

By giving your child the time and space to encounter boredom - and imagine ways to conquer it - you are training her executive functions. She stays on task, follows the plan and a virtuous cycle begins. Each time she plays, her self-regulation improves.

More play, less frustration = a happier, calmer child.

From everyday play to innovation

So what was my son building that day after school? And why was he so inspired?

It all started with a ball track. Fun, but not particularly creative: open the box, connect the pieces, roll the ball. A classic Task Positive Network activity.

But next time the ball track came out, his Default Mode Network had plans of its own. All kinds of wooden blocks were recruited to add height and variety - and no small measure of challenge. This kind of see-how-far-I-can-push-the-laws-of-physics construction play is called ‘stunt building’. When basic block play gets old, pushing the boundaries is how you keep it fun.

A tip for buying blocks: For maximum play potential, get a variety of shapes and sizes. Longer blocks and boards are particularly useful because they enable your child to span gaps and create openings, greatly increasing the number of forms. Better yet, augment your set and get the DMN firing by introducing everyday objects with useful properties. For example books, tape and cardboard tubes extend what’s possible in fun and interesting ways.

Back to my son, who wasn’t quite finished.

That voice in his head was whispering again.

Could you build a marble run without using any track? Could you? I dare you.

Challenge accepted!

He didn’t say any of this out loud, of course.

His Default Mode Network simply provided a flash of inspiration.

But which blocks to choose?

The Salience Network, his brain’s “interest detector”, snaps to attention. It’s always on the lookout for something new, something relevant.

Look! Look! Steps!, it calls.

Perfect! What better way roll a marble downhill?

But the marble fell off. There were no guard rails.

Time for his Salience Network to notice something else - the lower part of his construction had a wall on one side and this kept the marble on course. What if he built a new track with walls on both sides?

A marble run where the ball can’t escape, you say? That’s a job for the Default Mode Network!

Even better, if you really don’t want the marble to escape, why not put on a roof?

Looking at the partially covered track, another idea presents itself.

The DMN is whispering again.

Even better, make it a secret track. Drop the marble in at the start and watch it magically appear at the other end.

It was a week’s worth of fun.

He came back every day, bursting with ideas on how to improve it.

My role? To leave his construction alone - and to protect it from rampaging toddlers.

His brain networks took care of the rest.

Flow: when play becomes timeless

Call me selfish but I love it when my children spend hours lost in play.

All sense of time goes. It’s what Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi dubbed a flow state.

Flow happens when challenge and skill are perfectly matched. The task is hard - but not so hard it breaks the spell. In those moments, the Task Positive Network takes the lead: focused, absorbed, steady.

Research shows that it’s unstructured free play - not organised sport or adult-led activities - that most reliably creates these states because it’s a challenge your child set for herself.

As parents, we can’t force flow - all we can do is offer the right conditions:

• Time. Long stretches without interruption.

• Space. A corner to spread out and make a mess.

• Trust. Confidence to let the play unfold without asking, “What are you making?”

It doesn’t always work, but we’re establishing the conditions for the right kind of play - and that can only be a good thing.

The long view: building brains for an unknown future

How has AI affected you over the past two years?

If you work in a hospital or a school you may not have noticed much of a change yet but if you’re a marketer or an accountant, your world has probably been turned upside down.

With robots and self-driving cars now on the horizon, the pace of change doesn’t look like it will be slowing down.

What kind of world will your child inhabit - and how can you prepare her for it?

These are difficult questions.

One thing’s for sure, though. You won’t be encouraging her to pursue a career in data entry or driving a taxi. Anything a computer can do is now off-limits.

So what’s left?

Being human.

Your child will succeed because she will excel at what only people can do - make friends, persuade, inspire and lead. Empathy will become a superpower.

Above all, she will triumph because of her imagination. No computer could ever compete because her ideas are rooted in direct experience.

And she will do all of this because when she was young, you made time and space for open-ended play.

Final word

The more time you make for open-ended play, the more creative and persistent your child becomes.

This is why I don’t like screens (though I do, hypocritically, give them to my children when I need peace and quiet to work): like the ‘empty calories’ of a sugary drink when you could have had an apple, not only are they harmful but you’re also missing out on the good stuff.

Like a delicate flower, open-ended play needs the right conditions to grow: long stretches, simple materials, few interruptions, generous boredom.

The rest is your child’s brain doing what it was built for: dream, notice, do.

Read next: Games with rules · Unsupervised play

Imagine this:

Your child has a whole afternoon ahead of her.

No planned activities. No screens. No one telling her what to do.

What happens next?

Does she leap into a project, get lost in play, and completely forget the time?

Or does she trail after you, saying, “I’m bored,” waiting for someone else to entertain her?

The difference isn’t personality - it’s practice.

Children who know how to make their own fun have built the habit of self-starting. They trust themselves to turn boredom into something interesting.

And that’s a skill that can be taught.

What is a creative self-starter?

A creative self-starter is a child who:

• Doesn’t wait to be entertained.

• Has a store of ideas and activities she can turn to.

• Follows her curiosity without needing permission.

• Gets absorbed in projects - sometimes for hours.

These are children who don’t rely on screens, schedules, or constant parental input.

Why self-directed play matters

A child who learns to make her own fun is building independence, problem-solving skills, perseverance, and creativity. She discovers how to begin something without waiting for an adult, finds ways to work with the materials she has, and learns to keep going even when things are difficult. Over time she becomes used to experimenting, inventing, and taking risks. In this way, play becomes practice for life. Children who trust their own creativity grow into resilient, adaptable, and self-motivated adults.

Why some children struggle to self-start

If your child often relies on you to suggest activities, it is not because she isn’t capable. It may be because:

1. She has never had to practise. If adults always step in, she lacks experience.

2. Screens have replaced boredom. Boredom is where creativity begins, but screens remove the need to push through that uncomfortable moment.

3. Her play environment is not set up for independence. If she can’t reach what she needs, she will wait for help.

4. She doubts her own ability. Self-starting is a mindset that only grows with practice.

Five ways to raise a child who makes her own fun

1. Let her experience boredom - without rescuing her

Boredom is not a problem to be solved. It’s the starting point of creativity.

The next time your child complains, "I’m bored," resist the urge to suggest something. Instead, say, "I wonder what you’ll come up with?"

She may struggle at first - but this is where self-starting begins.

I won’t pretend this is easy. If you walk past my house on a summer’s day, when the windows are open and all the children are stuck at home while I write these newsletters, you’ll hear a lot of whining.

Dad, I’m bored!

Dad, can we have screens?

Most of the time, I don’t answer. But, occasionally, if they pester me enough, you’ll hear my voice rise above the cacophony:

Go away and find something to do.

That’s about as much help as I’m prepared to give them these days. They have no excuse. They’ve had the benefit of me exposing them to all kinds of creative endeavours, from woodwork to sewing, baking and print-making.

Now it’s up to them.

NOTE: I probably have a higher tolerance for aggravation than most parents. My wife doesn’t like it when tensions rise. But I know that if I let the children complain and bicker for a few minutes, they’ll eventually back down and start to play.

Why do you always ask me? she asks them, exhausted by their demands. Why not Daddy?

Because Daddy says ‘no’.

I watch them go through the five stages of grief: Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance. It’s the same every time.

Try it yourself. Try it today.

Hold your nerve. Your child will accept her fate (though it might take 20 minutes of tears, first time round).

And then life gets easier.

2. Give her a rich mental library of stories and games

A child who knows playground games, rhymes, and traditional stories has a deep well of ideas to draw from.

• Playground games. What’s the time, Mr Wolf? Duck, Duck, Goose.

• Songs and rhymes. Skipping chants, clapping games, tongue twisters.

• Stories. Fairy tales, myths, and folktales that fuel imaginative play.

• Memory and word games. Riddles, hand-clapping patterns, simple challenges.

By far the most powerful thing you can do for your child is to read to her. Nothing else stands in for it. In my own family, I can see the difference between the children who enjoyed endless bedtime stories and those who, for reasons beyond their control, missed out on that routine. And as a teacher, I saw the same pattern year after year: the children who were read to at home flourished.

3. Give her a place to make a mess

Have a corner of your home where spills are tolerated.

We once lived in a rented flat with three children under three where the carpets were immaculate (and the landlord was fastidious) so I do understand that this is easier said than done.

During those years, I relied heavily on a builder’s tray that we kept in the kitchen for all our messy and sensory play and a big roll of old wallpaper that I used to cover up the kitchen table. And we had a lot of water play in the bathroom and at the sink.

It wasn’t how I’d pictured my children’s early years before I got married. There was no idyllic garden full of natural wonder. But they did, at least, have the freedom to make and to break.

Best of all, they had a space to be themselves, to follow their instincts, to create.

And they learnt to play alone - and that it was OK.

4. Make supplies accessible

Do you ration the paints? The glue? The tissue paper?

Some materials are special - and expensive - and we’ve all seen preschoolers on the rampage, free-pouring PVA onto the table or cutting through five sheets of paper at once.

You had such high hopes for those materials!

But if your child has to ask every time she wants paper or glue, it’s hard for her to get into a creative flow. Worse, how can she become a self-starter if she always needs you to start.

Instead:

• Store craft materials where she can reach them.

• Organise toys so she can see what is available.

• Create readymade play kits - boxes of materials that go together naturally:

  • needles, thread, buttons and felt;

  • batteries, wires and motors;

  • junk materials, masking tape and markers.

In short, get a craft trolley. Buy one from IKEA. They’re ugly, but cheap. You won’t mind it being destroyed.

And don’t worry about buying the fanciest craft materials. Your child will be delighted with old magazines to cut out and free access to PVA and the recycling box.

No need to overcomplicate things:

Pencils, paper, scissors, glue. There’s a lifetime of learning right there.

5. Step back - even when you want to step in

Your child needs space to work things out. The moment you intervene, you interrupt her thinking process.

Instead of offering a solution, wait.

If she’s really stuck, ask a question.

Daddy, there’s a gap at the bottom of my house. The stick isn’t long enough.

Hmm. We don’t have any longer sticks. What else could you do? What happens if you close the gap at the bottom?

That works, but now the roof is too wide. Wait! I can make the roof fit by making it more pointy!

Hooray!

This gives her ownership of the solution - and confidence to start again next time.

What self-starting looks like in real life

One day I asked my 11-year-old:

"If you had to spend every afternoon in your room, without screens or books, what hobby would you start?"

Blank stare.

But my younger children had answers immediately:

• “Carry on building my wargaming board.”

• “Write a comic.”

My eldest needed a nudge. We talked about a recent trip to the Small is Beautiful exhibition in London, where he had seen miniature buildings. For a week afterwards, he was absorbed in making tiny paper houses.

It didn’t last forever. But for those seven days, he was completely lost in play - without screens, without me, without needing to be told what to do.

That is the goal.

The moment you know your child is a creative self-starter

You glance at the clock. It is seven o’clock and dinner is late. But it doesn’t matter - your child hasn’t noticed.

She is so deep in play, so absorbed in her project, that she has forgotten to ask for a screen.

You make a simple supper, pour a hot chocolate, and smile.

She is happy. You are happy.

And best of all, she got there on her own.

Start today. Choose one small way to encourage self-starting - set up a space, step back, or let boredom happen.

And watch what unfolds.

My wife and I shelter from the wind behind a rock but the children, oblivious to the subtle charms of a Cornish summer, don’t notice.

Below us on the sand, they’re deep in debate.

"You can't change the rules halfway through!" my second son protests, indignantly.

"We're not changing them, we're improving them."

My daughter argues her case with lawyer-like precision. But the boys are older and often pull rank. She doesn’t always ‘win’, even when she’s right.

“Look - if you get tagged whilst carrying the shell, you have to do three jumping jacks before you can rejoin your team. That's fair.”

They’re reinventing that old playground classic, ‘Stuck in the mud’, and so far they’ve spent more time negotiating than actually playing.

"But what if you're already in a safe zone when you get the shell?"

"Then you get three seconds to decide - stay safe or make a run for it."

The debate continues for twenty minutes. Complex negotiations unfold about boundary lines, team switching, and what constitutes a fair tag.

I check the time. We have to go.

But the game hasn’t got going yet. Can I really spoil the fun? So much good learning is taking place. Away from the pressures of home, with confined spaces and hours spent in the car on the school run, the boys are letting go of their need to dominate. They listen to the girls. They relax. And a deeper, richer world of play opens up.

If we wait any longer, the fish and chip van will be closed and we’ll be eating supermarket pizza - again.

But this is an opportunity I won’t miss.

Playtime, interrupted

Do you remember your school days? Those endless lunch breaks when the play seemed to go on for hours.

But the lesson bell always came.

“Oh! We were just getting started!”

“You can carry on tomorrow,” the teacher on duty would say. But we all knew the moment had passed.

Your carefully constructed game dissolved as you lined up for class, your elaborate social experiment abandoned.

And so the playground empties, leaving behind only the ghost of something that was once the most important work of childhood - learning to be human through play.

Childhood can’t do its job

Here’s what we rarely admit: we have dismantled childhood, piece by piece. Not through neglect or cruelty, but through love and good intentions - our drive to optimise, protect, and enrich every waking moment.

Evolutionary psychologist Peter Gray puts it bluntly: “Children are designed, by nature, to play and explore on their own, independently of adults. They need freedom in order to develop; without it they suffer.”

Yet somewhere along the way, we decided that childhood was too important to leave to children. We scheduled it, supervised it, structured it - and in the process, we may have weakened the very foundation on which capable adulthood is built.

Play is a biological drive

The drive to play freely is a basic, biological drive. Lack of free play may not kill the physical body, as would lack of food, air, or water, but it kills the spirit and stunts mental growth.

Peter Gray

Studies comparing children’s freedom across decades show that the “roaming radius” - how far children can travel from home unsupervised - has shrunk by 90% since the 1970s.

We’ve created the safest generation of children in history. Yet childhood anxiety and depression rates have soared.

Children who experience primarily adult-directed activities show:

• Reduced executive function - they're less able to set and achieve goals independently

• Increased anxiety - they haven't learned to navigate uncertainty and conflict

• Diminished creativity - they wait for instructions rather than generating solutions

• Poor risk assessment - they either take dangerous risks or become paralysed by minor challenges

Meanwhile, children who have regular access to free play develop:

• Self-regulation - the ability to manage emotions and behaviour without external control

• Social competence - skill at reading social cues and negotiating relationships

• Resilience - experience bouncing back from failure and disappointment

• Intrinsic motivation - the capacity to engage deeply with activities they find meaningful

The price of protection

When I turned ten, I was allowed to make short journeys on my own. I walked to school, taking my younger sister with me. I played tennis with my friends. I had pocket money for sweets: Flying Saucers, Black Jacks and Drumsticks.

Those were good times.

Best of all, I was allowed to stop at the park after school.

Can you imagine my excitement the first time we had deep snow?

We threw snowballs for hours and, before we knew it, the sun was setting. Time for home.

My friends went one way; I went the other.

The pond had frozen over and there were a few brave children standing tentatively around its perimeter - close enough to leap for dry land in case of mishap.

Looks pretty solid to me, I thought. I’ll walk across.

Now, of course, my parents had warned me many times not to do anything as stupid as this. But I was ten and I thought I knew better.

Halfway across. So far, so good.

Then I noticed a hole in the ice. Only three or four feet wide.

No problem. I’ll leap over it.

Easy for a big boy like me. And in one great bound I was on the other side.

But ice around a hole is paper thin.

With an awful, terrifying crack, I was through it and into the water. Worse, my forward motion was taking me under the ice rather than straight down. I was going to find myself several feet past the opening, trapped under an impenetrable shelf.

My feet slid under, then my legs. It happened in the blink of an eye. Before I could think, my whole body was submerged, the ice pushing me down.

Is this the end for Rocky and Bullwinkle?

(I’ve always wanted to write a cliff-hanger, but you rarely get the chance with Early Years blogs…)

Just as my chin entered the water, my arm caught the edge and I was saved.

Hasta luego, Grim Reaper.

Davy Jones’ locker can wait.

The walk home in the dark was excruciating. I’ve never been so cold.

And I bet you can imagine my mum’s face when she opened the door…

Grounded?

To my parents’ eternal credit, I wasn’t grounded.

I’d learnt my lesson and the next day I was back out in the snow.

It must have been tempting to keep me home, to keep me safe.

But that ‘safety’ is paradoxical: the more we try to protect our children, the more vulnerable they become. When we remove risk and problems and conflict, we deny them the chance to develop the tools to resolve these difficulties by themselves.

Gray argues that "nothing that we do, no amount of toys we buy or 'quality time' or special training we give our children, can compensate for the freedom we take away. The things that children learn through their own initiatives, in free play, cannot be taught in other ways."

We’ve forgotten what made our own childhood so special - and the skills it gave us to develop into capable adults.

What did your childhood teach you?

Think back to your own early years. What do you remember most vividly - the structured activities your parents arranged, or the adventures you invented with other children when adults weren’t watching?

I’m all in favour of piano lessons and after-school gymnastics. But break them open and you won’t find ‘childhood’ inside.

No, the real magic happened when you vanished for hours, wrestling with social problems without adult referees, taking the physical and emotional risks that come with true independence.

Can you imagine granting your child that kind of freedom today?

How parents make space for unsupervised play

If unsupervised play is so vital, how can you give your child more of it - in a world that seems designed to eliminate it? Here are some simple starting points:

• Create pockets of time. Protect at least a few unstructured hours each week where there’s no scheduled activity, no agenda, and no hovering adult.

• Widen the boundaries. If roaming the neighbourhood isn’t possible, expand freedom within safe limits: the garden, the local park, or even a corner of the house you deliberately leave “adult-free.”

• Resist the urge to step in. Arguments, squabbles, and negotiations are the curriculum of unsupervised play. Unless safety is at risk, hold back.

• Value boredom. When children complain they have nothing to do, see it as the threshold of creativity rather than a problem to fix.

• Model trust. Tell your child explicitly: “I trust you to work it out.” Those words give her confidence and permission to take ownership.

Reclaiming freedom

My second son is walking home from school today for the first time.

It’s a mix of nerves and excitement - for both of us.

Like the heroes of my favourite book as child, Bears in the Night, he has to go: down the hill, under the road, across the bridge, around the lake, through the streets, into the door - and back to bed (OK, not into bed. Those bears were out past their bedtime).

There’s no spooky owl to send him scampering - though there are all kinds of other dangers on a London street. But I can’t protect him forever. As Alison Gopnik says, in The Gardener and the Carpenter:

Part of the pathos, but also the moral depth, of being a parent is that a good parent creates an adult who can make his own choices, even disastrous choices. A secure, stable childhood allows children to explore, to try entirely new ways of living and being, to take risks. And risks aren’t risks unless they can come out badly. If there isn’t some chance that our children will fail as adults, then we haven’t succeeded as parents.

He’s ready.

It’s time.

(But, I have to admit, I’m glad it’s September so the pond won’t be frozen over!)

I don’t know about you, but I often feel like I’m fighting a losing battle with screens.

They’re shiny, quick, and always available. They give children what they want in an instant. Meanwhile, play – the very thing that helps them grow into curious, creative, independent people – sometimes struggles to compete.

The good news? We don’t have to rely on sheer willpower, either theirs or ours. We can borrow some tools from a surprising place: behavioural economics.

It’s the science of how people really make decisions. Not the tidy, rational version, but the messy, human one. And when we design the environment with that in mind, play suddenly becomes the easy, obvious choice.

Here are eight ideas, each with a simple experiment you can try at home.

1. Commitment devices

We behave better when we’ve already promised in advance - but how that looks depends on age.

• For over fives. Make a public pledge. Mark “Screen-Free Saturday” or “Play First After School” on the family calendar. Once it’s there in black and white, it becomes the default expectation. Children this age can hold tomorrow in mind, so the promise carries weight.

• For under fives. Think rituals, not promises. They live in the moment, so the commitment has to be built into the routine. Try a special play basket that only comes out at a set time. “After breakfast, we open the basket of blocks” (or the toy farm, or the doll’s house - whatever she loves). The ritual itself is the commitment, and the environment holds it in place.

Try this: Mark your pledge on the calendar, or set out a basket that only appears at a fixed time each day.

2. Loss aversion

We hate losing more than we like gaining.

That’s why adults keep up a streak of daily runs, Duolingo lessons, or even Wordle wins - we don’t want to “lose” the progress we’ve made. For older children, a “play streak” chart can work in the same way: each screen-free day earns a star, and the thought of breaking the chain is motivating.

With younger children, though, this is much harder to pull off. They don’t yet have the executive function skills to think ahead and feel the sting of losing something abstract, like a future reward or a broken streak. To them, it can easily feel like punishment. In these cases, it’s usually better to rely on other nudges - quick-start activities, choice limitation, or social proof - that make play feel immediately rewarding rather than dependent on distant goals.

Try this: Use streaks with older children, but for younger ones choose nudges that deliver instant rewards, like a quick-start basket.

3. Present bias

We grab what’s most rewarding right now. Screens are designed for this.

Try this: Create a “quick-start basket” of activities that need no prep – pens and paper, a puzzle, a ball. Place it exactly where your child usually reaches for a device. When play feels just as immediate, the choice shifts.

Note: This is where invitations to play shine. Set up an enticing scene - however small - and watch your child become captivated by the story. A couple of strands of red and white wool might be all it takes. Where invitations go wrong is when you spend too long setting them up. Instead, see them as a quick, throwaway experiment. Does my child engage with this? If not, ditch it and move on to something else. You are teaching your child to see the fun and possibility in everything so failures still count as wins.

4. Social proof

We copy what others do. Children especially.

My daughter has never been very confident with maths. She needs more practice with her number bonds, but worksheets make her anxious. So one afternoon I sit at the table with a pile of receipts, pretending to do my “accounts.”

The numbers are small and, by some miracle, they all seem to add up neatly to ten or twenty. £5 + £5 for stationery. £6 + £4 + £7 + £3 for subscriptions. When I get stuck, I start counting on my fingers.

(Never underestimate how credulous a five-year-old can be!)

What are you doing, Daddy?

I’m doing my accounts. Look, these are all the things I’ve bought this month, and I have to check the totals.

Can I help?

Of course! This one’s tricky. I’ve got £6, £4, £7 and £3. I need to know how much that makes altogether but I don’t have enough fingers.

I know, Daddy! You can use those blocks.

How did they get there? And what do I do with them? I’ve never tried using counting blocks before.

Don’t worry, Daddy, I can show you!

And just like that, the fear disappears. Maths isn’t a worksheet or a test - it’s something you see your dad doing at the kitchen table.

In the words of Han Solo:

Sometimes I amaze even myself…

But really, this is social proof at its simplest. Children believe what they see. When you treat number bonds, drawing, or play as part of everyday life, they want in. And the more they join you, the more confident they become.

Try this: Next time you want your child to practise something - whether it’s drawing, building, or even maths - start doing it yourself in plain sight. Keep it simple, keep it playful, and wait for her to ask: “Can I help?”

Read more

They’re bored of their toys, you’re too busy to sit and do crafts and you really, really don’t want to give them screens.

It has to be quick and easy. Not even Jeff Bezos with his ‘Same Day by 10pm’ promise is going to save you.

No, it’s just you and the contents of your craft trolley and kitchen cupboard.

So what’s the answer?

I could put some activities on the Play with Purpose blog but by now you know that I think they’re pointless (or, rather, it’s very hard to get them right).

No. The best thing to do is to help our children to think more creatively so they learn to make their own fun.

But that won’t work today. Today is an emergency. You need something right now. They really, truly have run out of ideas. If you could wait it out, you know they’d come up with something eventually, but it’s not worth the moaning and the misery.

Sometimes you just want to give them something to do.

But rather than trawl the web, why not roll the dice? Why not pick a few objects at random from your home and see what you can come up with.

But first, because I love a quick digression, and I respect my readers’ time…

A story

​My second son is wonderfully inventive. He’s the man behind SourStrike, the drink I told you about recently in the Screen-Free Saturdays email.

Once, on a long, potentially-boring day trip, he produced the following items from his pocket.

A sand timer, a marble and a die.

My hero. We played games all day.

Three seemingly-unrelated objects. Thousands of possibilities.

What games could you play? Here are a few:

• Time races

• Play games of chance

• Roll the die to determine how many attempts you get to flick the marble at the target

• Time how long it takes you to get to the top of the hill and back

• Pretend the marble is the hidden treasure

• Try to roll a six before the timer runs out

• Try to roll a ‘4’ and a ‘2’ consecutively. That’s the code for the secret door.

No toys. Just a whole day’s fun.

Creativity is a muscle. It grows with practice.

And we don’t always feel at our imaginative best. Sometimes we need a helping hand.

And that’s why I created The Endless Play Generator.

The Endless Play Generator

It’s an ugly duckling that only a father could love. A web app with a clunky interface.

But don’t worry, the final version won’t be pink - or look like it escaped from a web page circa 1998. It will be sleek and smart.

Once we’re happy, I’ll put it on a swish new website endlessplaygenerator.com(currently under construction)! and I’ll turn it into a mobile app.

But for now, it looks like this:

See? I told you it was ugly.

And notice the new name. It's no longer the Endless Idea Generator. It's the Endless Play Generator

What’s the big idea?

The Endless Play Generator gives you ideas. You tell it what you have to play with and it offers a fully-formed activity.

• What games can I play with a wooden spoon, some twine and a cork?

• How can I use a ball, a sock and a ladle?

• I’ve only got paper clips, a tape measure and a coat hanger. Can you think of something?

And The Endless Play Generator will think. And it will invent a game. A never-before-seen game that’s just for you.

Sound fun?

I think so, too.

It’s Version 1. I need your help

As I said, it’s a work in progress. Play with it, see what it comes up with, and tell me your thoughts.

It asks you four questions:

1. How old is your child?

2. What materials do you have to hand? (it assumes only everyday household objects)

3. How much time do you have for setup?

4. Are there any skills you want to focus on?

And then it gets to work, suggesting activities.

Here’s an example:

1. My son is 4.

2. I have cardboard, pencils and string.

3. I want activities that take less than a minute to set up.

4. I want activities with a fine-motor focus.

Here’s the output, generated instantly. This is the first activity it suggested. I didn’t roll ten times and show you the best one.

Activity: Yarn-wrapped cardboard shapes

You will need:

• A small cardboard box (or pieces of cardboard)

• String or yarn (various colours if possible)

• Scissors

The set-up (1 Minute)

1. Preparation: Cut the cardboard box into several small shapes (circles, squares, triangles, etc.). Ensure the shapes are big enough for your child to handle easily.

2. String: Cut pieces of yarn or string to manageable lengths (about 30 cm each), ensuring you have multiple pieces for various shapes.

The activity

1. Start Wrapping: Show your child how to start wrapping the string or yarn around the cardboard shape. Begin by holding one end of the string at the back of the shape and using the other hand to wrap it around.

2. Continue Wrapping: Encourage your child to continue wrapping the string around the cardboard shape in various directions until the entire shape is covered.

Gamify it

• Colour Challenge: Challenge your child to use different colours of yarn for different shapes or portions of shapes.

• Speed Wrap: Set a timer and see how quickly they can wrap a shape completely.

Tips and common problems

• Slippery Yarn: If the yarn keeps slipping, show your child how to tuck the loose end under the wrapped yarn to secure it.

• Frustration: If your child gets frustrated, take a short break and encourage them to try again, offering gentle guidance.

Take it further

• More Shapes: Once your child masters the basic shapes, introduce more complex shapes like stars or letters.

• Decorate: Provide stickers or markers to decorate the yarn-wrapped shapes.

Classic activities to try with individual materials

• Cardboard Boxes: Create a sensory tunnel by cutting holes in a large cardboard box.

• String/Yarn: Make a simple string art project or practice lacing by threading the yarn through holes punched in cardboard.

Enjoy this simple yet engaging activity that supports fine motor skill development for your 4-year-old!

Obviously, there’s room for improvement. But I hope you can see the potential. A bit of tweaking from me and some feedback from you and we’ll get there.

You can hit ‘Generate Activity’ as many times you like until you get something you’re happy with but I’d rather the first one worked out straight away and that’s why I need your help.

Below are a few screenshots followed by the kinds of questions I’d like your help with. Some are basic, about the interface, and others are about how we can make it work better:

• Do you prefer a drop-down for the ages, or a slider?

• Does it help to have checkbox suggestions or would you rather just tell it which materials you’d like to use? Listing common materials is a quick way to get you started but it gets unwieldy. Maybe you just need a text box?

• Is Question 3 redundant? Will you always pick ‘1 minute’?

• Which skills are important to you? Which should I feature?

• What did the generator get right? What did it get wrong?

• Should it ask more detailed questions?

Play with it. See what it does. And look for ways to improve it. With your help, I can train it to be smarter and to return more relevant results.

I think it could be fun.

Endless Play Generator, Version 2

OK, I haven’t finished version 1, yet, but here’s what’s coming next, once the final version goes live:

1. Publish the best activities. Generated a great activity? Email it to me and I’ll post it on a dedicated site, playexamples.com. If you use the Endless Play Generator and it suggests something that your child loves, please email it to me (along with a picture of you doing the activity, if you’re happy for it to be published) and I’ll put it on the site.

2. Publish from the app. Once the mobile app goes live, I’m investigating ways for you to publish the best activities straight to the website. Visitors will be able to rate, rank and download them. You will have to option to organise and keep your favourites. It will become a readymade library of activities on your phone, that you can dip into whenever you want. And because you made them, you’ll know that they were just right for your child.

This is what I mean when I say that I’m not interested in being a source of activities any more. I think the Endless Play Generator is a great way to get our children thinking more creatively, more laterally. And once they have learnt the trick, they will become their very own Endless Play Generator.

The goal is ideas not activities

This is what 100 Toys was building towards.

No, not an app.

A desire to show you that you don’t need toys. You don’t need activities.

You simply have to believe in the power of your imagination.

And if you’re feeling uninspired, The Endless Play Generator will ride to the rescue. It might not get it right (although I think it usually does) but that’s not the point. It gives you a jumping off point, a nudge to open the kitchen cupboard, pull out a few bits and pieces - and make your own fun.

Are you in?

Final word

See you tomorrow for the last email in this launch sequence, where I’ll show you around The Play Circle, the Play with Purpose community.

After that, I’ll leave you alone. Apart from a couple of emails to remind you that the early bird offer is ending, I’ll resort to a less inbox-cluttering weekly cadence. Through The Scrapbook, the newsletter you are reading now, I’ll share all my new thinking on play and development. I hope you enjoy it.

Happy playing!

Alexis

P.S. If you haven’t signed up to Breaking the screen-time habit, the free companion mini-series to Screen-Free Saturdays, you can read the most recently-published email here:
​
​Day 2 | Going cold turkey is the only way.

In case you missed it, here’s Day 1.

​And here’s a link to sign up to the whole series (5 days plus a few, really quite fun - if I say so myself - bonus modules).

P.P.S. The Endless Play Generator is part of a wider project I’m working on to create a little constellation of resources to help you and your child enjoy screen-free fun.

Here’s what’s included:

• Breaking the Screen-Time Habit An email mini-series to get you ready for…

• Screen-Free Saturdays, Start with the Child and Patterns in Play, three weekly newsletters to keep you inspired and ready to play.

• The Play Tools. A collection of quick-to-implement tools to get your child back on track when independent play falls apart.

• The Play Circle. Meet like-minded parents and enjoy exclusive content like videos, podcasts and webinars in this FREE community.

• The Endless Play Generator. Never run out of ideas again. Become your own idea-generating machine.

• The Play with Purpose Guides. A series of free guides you’ll find in The Play Circle and the via the new website.

Do you spend much time at home, alone with the children or by yourself?

For me, working from home means I can get stuck in a rut. I get tunnel-vision, focusing on the task at hand. I forget to put on the washing. The dishes remain in the sink. I realise too late that I haven’t prepared an after-school snack.

I get disconnected from friends, family and good advice.

When I have a question, there’s no-one to ask.

So I ask Google.

And recently, that hasn’t gone too well.

Bad advice

When creating 100 Toys, I spent a lot of time thinking about getting the articles to show up on Google. You can game the system if you sprinkle a few of the right words into your writing. But it sounds awful.

You get articles like this:

• 25 Amazing Benefits of Open-Ended Play for Kids

• What is open-ended play for kids?

• The benefits of open-ended play for kids

• FAQs: The benefits of open-ended play for kids

• Open-ended play activities for kids

• What is open-ended play for kids in child development?

I can’t bring myself to finish the list. It’s so bad.

But it works.

These practices broke the internet. The top search results were junk, stuffed with the ‘keyword’.

If you can game reliably game the system, you can make money. Sites ‘reviewed’ products, recommending not the best but the one that offered the highest affiliate commission. They bombarded you with video ads.

Search was ruined.

You couldn’t trust what you read anymore.

Google tried to clean it up but now there’s another bogeyman.

I, robot

Now if you search for ‘What is open-ended play’ you get an AI-generated response. It’s better than those spammy sites. All the information is in there but something is still missing.

What if you had a more nuanced question, one that relied on first-hand experience or empathy? Or one that involved knowing something about the other person?

A frightening experience

ChatGPT knows more than I ever will about child development. But it has never sat up until three in the morning holding a terrified toddler with croup who is gasping for air and looking at you imploringly for help that you can’t give.

In that situation, you don’t care what AI thinks.

You want advice from someone who knows that your first instinct is to protect your child, that nothing else matters.

And if your child is going through it right now, it might comfort you to know what I did. I had it with three of my children. Three calls to the emergency services. Three trips in an ambulance. Three shots of adrenaline. Terrifying, but OK in the end. Once you’ve been through it, you understand that the concave chest, gasping and the stridor, that horrible tell-tale bark, will get worse if untreated. You have to take action straight away.

ChatGPT can’t do that, even with its massive brain. Here’s an abbreviated version of its advice:

• Stay calm and comforting

• Use cool, moist air

• Keep your child hydrated

• Keep your child upright

• Know when to seek help

No. Sod that, as we euphemistically say in England. Call an ambulance. Croup always happens at night. You know it’s coming because your child develops the cough during the day. You know she will wake in the night with that bark. Call your GP. Say that you need corticosteroids like dexamethasone or prednisolone. Demand them. Don’t get off the phone until you have them. If you don’t, a night-time trip in an ambulance is all but guaranteed.

I don’t know about you but, as long as you can read between the lines (there are a lot of cranks out there!), I’m happier taking my chances with Reddit.

This is the way the internet is going. Information is free. What really matters is community and human connection.

A confession

You’ll know if I start using ChatGPT. All my stylistic tics will be ironed out. No more clipped writing. No more ‘Ands’ and ‘Buts’ to start sentences.

And I might even use more than one sentence per paragraph.

Or, then again, not.

Actually, I do use ChatGPT, but I use it in a different way. I ask it where I went wrong. I ask it what I missed. And it’s great at that. That’s a job it can do well.

But like the replicants in Blade Runner, the robots who thought they were human, AI will never really know, even if it thinks it does.

I thought this was supposed to be an email about The Play Circle?

Sorry, another digression.

It turns out there’s a reason for that, which I’ll share with you one day.

Anyway, I’m going somewhere with this, and here we are:

Play with Purpose, reincarnated

During the first days of the COVID lockdown, I created a community for parents who suddenly found themselves working from home with young children who needed to be educated and entertained.

We shared activities and advice. We offered support. It was fun.

And I kept the website.

I had registered the name ‘Play with Purpose’ with a view to rebranding 100 Toys. I was never happy with the word ‘toys’ in the title as I felt there was so much more to what we offered.

The community has lain dormant for three years but if you joined at the time - and around 500 of you seem to have kept your membership - you’ll be able to log straight back in (once it goes live on Wednesday).

Why two community names?

You can think of The Play Circle as everything that’s free. Guides, community, members-only access to articles on the soon-to-launch Play with Purpose website (coming Tuesday!).

Co-Conspirators, then, is for the paid subscribers. If you sign up for an individual newsletter, you’ll find a private feed dedicated to discussing its content. If you join the co-conspirators, you get access to everything.

A really useful engine

I love Thomas the Tank Engine.

The highest accolade anyone could receive in those stories was to be called ‘a really useful engine’.

How proud they would look!

The more I’m in business - if that’s what you call hanging on for dear life while you watch your bank account slowly drain! - the more I’m convinced that the only thing that’s worth doing is to be useful.

At the hospital where my wife works, there are volunteers in their 70s and 80s, far more qualified than anyone else there, and with more than enough money to be comfortable, pushing trolleys, helping the porters and doing all kinds of unpleasant and tedious jobs. They could be at home, or at the golf club, but they choose to be helpful. I’m a long way from retirement, but I agree.

I want to be the volunteer hospital porter of screen-free fun.

Will you join me?

What’s inside?

In the community, you’ll have access to resources, but you’ll also have access to each other.

From speaking to so many of you over the years I have discovered that there are thousands of experts who subscribe to this newsletter: doctors, educational psychologists, psychiatrists, psychotherapists, occupational therapists and teachers of all kinds.

But, above all, there are parents (and grandparents!). Real people with real experience of life.

I want The Play Circle to be the most helpful place on the internet.

In it, you’ll get:

• Access to me. I’ll run regular Q&A sessions and live events like webinars, and I’ll be available in the feed if you have any questions.

• A members’ feed where you can meet and discuss what’s on your mind and a series of sub feeds, for special topics, where there’s demand.

• Free guides on a range of topics

• Challenges

• A members’ directory, so you can find like-minded parents near you.

• And many other features, which I’ll add over time.

And there won’t be any selling. After daily emails for launch week, you’re no doubt tired of hearing about my projects. The newsletters and Co-Conspirators are in the sidebar, if you choose to sign up but, otherwise, I won’t mention them.

The Play Circle is FREE. I’ll send you your invitation on Wednesday.

But until Wednesday, if you join Co-Conspirators, you’ll get the early bird price for lifetime access to everything I ever make under the Play with Purpose umbrella, from The Play Tools and the Endless Play Generator to the paid newsletters Screen-Free Saturdays, Patterns in Play and Start with the Child.

Join Co-Conspirators for £29

I can’t wait to meet you all in there.

Alexis

P.S. The website won’t go live until Tuesday. Until then, you can read any emails you missed via the the email archive, where you’ll find every free email I publish, from mini-series like Breaking the screen-time habit to newsletters like The Scrapbook, the one you’re reading now.

P.P.S. Lastly, a quick reminder that I’d like to create a podcast and YouTube channel. Unfortunately, I have a face for radio and a voice for blogging. I’d love some help. If you’re an expert of some kind and you’d like to appear on the show - or you know someone who would, please get in touch. If you’d like to join me at Play with Purpose, I’m also looking for a partner of some kind. You don’t have to be an expert in child development or a marketer. Perhaps you take great photos or shoot videos. You could even simply be an interested parent with a relaxed and relatable manner. I’d love to find someone with complementary skills. If you’d like to co-host the podcast with me, even better.

The Scrapbook

Subscribe to the Play with Purpose newsletter and discover simple, creative ways to transform your child’s play. Get weekly screen-free activity ideas to build your child’s confidence, independence, and problem-solving skills. Learn how to create an enriching environment that fosters imagination and meaningful play. Plus, enjoy free access to The Play Circle, where you’ll connect with other parents for support and inspiration. Sign up today to help your child thrive through play!