Day Seventy-One: The Longest Braid

Today Taiya wanted to make yarn braids. She's been making them on her own for a long time now. Some have become necklaces, some ropes for various purposes, etc. Today she asked for my help, and decided she wanted to make a braid that went from one side of our house to the other. I said, "Are you sure? It's going to get all tangled." And she said, "Mama, I need to try things!" Of course I couldn't argue with that. And once I thought about it a minute, it did seem to be a perfectly absurd quarantine activity, braiding an extraordinarily long braid just to see if you can. So, we unrolled six strings of yarn that went from her room all the way across my room, probably 16 feet. Each strand of braid had two strings held together. I held the knotted end and she went across to the other side. Together, we braided each strand over and over, keeping the long strands from tangling. If you combined swinging the ropes for double-dutch jump-roping with juggling, you'll have some idea of what this felt like. As the braid formed, I moved closer and closer to her. Since each strand of the braid was different colors, we kept the pattern straight by repeating, "Blue-y, Fluffy, Purple&Pink, Blue-y, Fluffy, Purple&Pink!" It reminded me of when I was a kid and helped my parents fold sheets, each working on one end, coordinating arm motions to fold it up neatly. 

During this braiding project, Taiya said, "Making this braid is kind of like reading our chapter books. At first you don't know what is going to happen, and by the end, you do!" I asked, "So, before you read the story, it's like the unbraided string, and then as you read it, it becomes braided together?" And she said that's exactly what she meant. I was so blown away. I am not sure I've ever heard a more perfect description of reading a book than that. It was such a beautiful thought. 

William had a very interesting description the other day that I also was blown away by. He has trouble coloring in coloring books because he gets extremely upset if he colors outside the lines. No matter how many times I've told him he's allowed to color it however he wants and he doesn't have to pay any attention to the lines, he will completely melt down in a sobbing mess over it. He tried coloring this weekend and ended up sobbing again. In an effort to understand what in the world the problem is, I asked him as he cried, "What does it feel like in your body when you color outside the lines?" And he thought about it a second, then wailed, "It feels like being homeless!" I could never have anticipated this response. How interesting an answer is that, though? I am not sure how I can use this information to help him learn to have fun coloring, but I can understand better how upsetting it must be to get color outside the confines of that harsh, black line. Poor kid.

Taiya and I finished the yarn braid, and it ended up being about 12 feet total once it was braided up. We were so proud of ourselves. She has used it to decorate her room, but I'm sure she'll think of other uses for it before long. She's quite inventive. I'm so glad she inspired me to try things. 

Just because it's pretty.