Why I Dislike Guardian-Accompanied Playgroups

When we first moved to Hong Kong, it was a rude-awakening to discover that daycares are not popular. Many working parents have grandparents or live-in nannies (they’re extremely affordable in Asia) for childcare, so guardian-accompanied playgroups are more prevalent for non-school aged children. They were a regressive step for the Dumpling because she has attended a drop-off since she was six months old back in the U.S. As we waited for a spot to open at an unaccompanied program, however, accompanied playgroups were our only immediate options at the time.

The one we joined was typical. For two hours, one to three days a week, parents or caregivers bond with their toddlers through engaging, educational activities, such as circle time, singing, dancing, arts and crafts, and sensory trays, led by an experienced teacher. The children will have opportunities to develop social skills, confidence, and independence—soft skills needed for an easier transition into drop-off classes.  

Sounds promising, right?

I hated the fact that I needed to be there—not because I did not want to spend time with my daughter, but because I did not want to be her security blanket. This particular program allowed kids to join and unjoin any time, so the lack of continuity and familiarity made friendships difficult to form. The Dumpling naturally gravitated toward me instead of exploring on her own because I was the easier option.

The teacher functioned more as an activity prompter than a leader—she would not intervene when a child was disruptive, acted inappropriately, or did not participate. Adults were solely responsible for their children, which was problematic as each toddler saw his guardian as the main authority figure instead of the teacher.

With a dozen adult-child pairs in class, it seemed like everyone operated under different “playground rules”. When the Dumpling snatched a toy from another child during one session, that child’s nanny lunged and aggressively snatched it back from the Dumpling before I could react. I was shocked that a grown-up behaved this way. I guessed she believed in “an eye for an eye”.

The differences in everyone’s parental values and styles were apparent. During an arts and crafts activity, the teacher presented a cherry blossom painting created by dotting pink paint on a tree silhouette—an example of what the class was to replicate. I did a demo for the Dumpling on our sheet. She dotted maybe three or four flowers before she smeared the paint around with her hands instead. I shrugged and looked around to see what other pairs were doing. Most adults were taking their kids’ fingers and dotting for them; the rest were completing most (if not all) of the activity on behalf of the children, who either lost interest or did not want to touch paint.

When the paintings were placed on the table to dry, I noticed that all of them fell within the spectrum of the teacher’s sample…except for the Dumpling’s. The others depicted delicate, tranquil blossoms blooming, while my kid’s tree looked like a typhoon bulldozed its way through.

The Dumpling was so proud of her work, and I was proud of her. I was proud that her piece was different…that she was different. She was not afraid to explore, completed the painting on her own, and did not mind getting dirty along the way.

I often reflect back on this moment. In an age where “over-parenting” is normal, I was glad that I did not interfere. But did I overvalue her independence and creativity? Under different circumstances, these traits could be viewed as insubordination or arrogance.

Painting a cherry blossom was trivial in the greater scheme of things, but what if it metaphorically represented a different activity (say baking or playing a team sport), could the Dumpling’s “tree” be viewed as a failure?
Was the process that much more important than the result? Should I have encouraged her harder to follow instructions? Or guided her fingers (like what some adults did) instead of letting her go rogue? If she had refused to paint at all, would it have been acceptable to return home with nothing? If the stakes were higher, would I have completed the project for her (like what a few others did)?

The other adult probably judged me as I had judged them, so only time would tell whom made the right parental choices. We strive towards grooming our kids into happy, smart, successful, good people, but even our best intentions could produce a variable of unforeseen effects.

I left this playgroup after a few weeks and tried another one—it was just as chaotic and dysfunctional as the first. My biggest critiques with the accompanied programs are their continuous open enrollment and the mandatory presence of a guardian, which in combination hindered the development of soft skills they claim to foster. Luckily a spot opened up for the Dumpling at a drop-off class soon after. (Hallelujah!) In the end, she did not benefit much from attending accompanied playgroups, but at least I learned something about my parenting values.

Tissue Paper Cherry Blossoms

It seems like I’m have developed an obsession with tissue paper lately. When I saw this pretty cherry blossom piece on Pinterest, I knew the last of my tissue paper tiles leftover from my suncatcher project will have ANOTHER life…just in time for Chinese New Year and spring too!

This turned out to be a great “big kid” project with the Dumpling because it involved multiple steps (technically two, but that’s double the number she was used to following!). Each step also allowed room for exploration (read: deviation) and the end result would still look fabulous. Below is my tutorial modified specifically to working with a two year old.

Materials

  • Printout of a cherry blossom branch (Note: I hand drew mine because I still don’t have a printer yet. I used brown and black washable markers, then traced the drawing with a wet brush to replicate a watercolor vibe. The link of the printout is to an external website.)
  • Red, pink and/or white tissue paper cut into approximately 2-3 cm tiles
  • Glue
  • Plastic tray (optional)

Step 1: Crumple the tissue paper into little balls

I showed the Dumpling how to crumple the tissue paper with her fingers and in the palms of her hands. Unlike the tiny beads needed for the mosaic hearts, the balls can be tight or loose for this activity—both work and produce different effects.

Step 2: Glue the crumpled tissue paper onto the branches

To prevent the Dumpling from going overboard with the glue, I poured a thin layer into a plastic plate, asked her to dip the crumpled tissue paper in, and replenished the glue as needed.

It was a game of chance where the Dumpling pasted on the flowers but I did try to direct her attention to the branch ends where they would naturally cluster. When she missed the tree entirely, I complimented on how lovely the falling petals looked. I also occasionally rotated the paper so she didn’t concentrate too much in one area.

When I felt there were enough florals on the tree (which was entirely based on personal preference), we concluded the activity by admiring the tree in full bloom. Yay!

Happy Chinese New Year!