Animal Stretches
Be a cat, a cobra, a tree. Ten minutes of stretching that does not feel like stretching.
Un écart de 4 ans est assez large pour que la plupart des listes d'activités échouent : ce qui retient l'aîné ennuie le plus jeune, et ce qui convient au plus jeune frustre l'aîné.
Les activités marquées Convient à tous vos enfants ci-dessous conviennent réellement en même temps à un enfant de 7 ans et à un enfant de 11 ans, le plus souvent parce qu'elles se règlent par le rôle et non par le niveau. En dessous, nous listons des idées qui conviennent à l'un des deux.
60 activités trouvées
Be a cat, a cobra, a tree. Ten minutes of stretching that does not feel like stretching.
Ten minutes on the timer and everything off the floor.
Find A, then B, then C, on every sign you pass.
Lie on your back and argue about what the clouds look like.
You give three random words. They build a story around them.
How long can you stand on one leg? Now with your eyes shut.
Ten objects on a tray, thirty seconds to look, then one disappears.
Everyone silent for five minutes, then say what you heard.
Everyone performs one thing. Badly is fine. Compulsory for adults.
Face each other and copy every movement exactly, in silence.
One of you thinks of something. The other has twenty yes-or-no questions.
One story, told in turns, that lasts the whole journey.
Do one good thing for someone in the house without being caught.
Every blanket in the house, one afternoon, one secret headquarters.
A trail of clues around the house, ending in something small.
A list of things to spot, and quiet for twenty minutes.
A big box, some tape, and no instructions whatsoever.
Find a smooth stone, paint it, leave it somewhere for a stranger.
One pot, a few seeds, and a reason to look out of the window every morning.
A pine cone, some lard, and birdseed. Hang it up and wait.
Twelve things to find in the park, and a race to get them all.
Build the fort, then read inside it by torchlight.
Ten plastic bottles, a soft ball, and a hallway.
Cushions, a torch and a stack of books in a corner they made themselves.
A pillowcase each and a finish line down the hallway.
Chalk targets on a wall and a bucket of water balloons.
A stack of sticks, leaves and cardboard tubes for things to live in.
You describe. They draw. Nobody looks.
Branches, a sheet, and a structure that has to actually stand up.
Six stations, a stopwatch, and a time to beat.
Paper chains, lanterns and bunting made from what is in the recycling.
Invent a sandwich, write the recipe, then make someone else follow it exactly.
Not a snowman. Anything but a snowman.
Three designs, one tape measure, and an argument about which flies furthest.
Throw a soft ball around the room. Anyone who makes a sound is out.
One window, one pencil, twenty minutes of genuine quiet.
Kitchen roll tubes taped to a wall, and a marble that keeps falling out.
A tally chart, a window, and fifteen quiet minutes.
Not a craft. An actual dish that the family eats.
Sit still outside, close your eyes, and draw every sound you hear.
Ten words, one code, and a conversation nobody else can follow.
One small note a day about something good, folded into a jar.
Two minutes each morning, and a month of real data by the end.
One deck of cards and enormous patience.
Teach them a game adults actually play.
Lights off, one torch, and a story passed around the circle.
Ten pictures on the walk. Only ten. Choose carefully.
A straw, a string across the room, and a balloon that fires along it.
They design the board, write the rules, and then make you play it.
Two identical piles of bricks, a barrier, and one person giving instructions.
Fold a page into six boxes and tell a whole story inside them.
A letter, an envelope, a stamp, and a reply that arrives days later.
Twenty straws, some tape, and one rule: it has to stand on its own.
One sheet of paper, eight folds, and endless silly predictions.
Fold it in five minutes, then race it across the table for half an hour.
Make it, price it, sell it, count the money.
A cardboard frame, a white sheet, a lamp, and a proper show.
A sealed box, opened in exactly one year.
Walk your road and draw it properly, to scale, from memory.
Start with one scarf. Most people never get past two, and that is fine.