exploringmontessori

Something really clicked for me recently while watching my 11-month-old son with his treasure basket. At first, I caught myself thinking,

“He’s just emptying it all out again. Should I step in? Is he actually playing or just making a mess?”

But then I paused — and I just watched.

What looked like chaos at first quickly turned into something much deeper.

The Treasure Basket Ritual

We keep a small, low basket filled with simple, interesting objects and just everyday things made from natural materials: a wooden spoon, a metal cup, a soft flannel, a silicone brush. Things that feel different, sound different, and spark curiosity.

Each day, he goes straight to it. He sits down, reaches in, and begins.

First, he pulls everything out. One by one.

Then maybe he chews on the brush. Taps the spoon on the floor. Shakes the shell.

Some days he comes back to the same object over and over — other days, it’s about flinging everything across the room and watching what happens.

And honestly? I’ve come to love this part.

What I’ve Noticed While Just Observing

When I stop interrupting and just observe, I see it all so differently.

I see:

Focused attention, even in short bursts Experimenting with sound, texture, and weight The beginnings of problem-solving and choice-making Confidence in doing it his way

It’s not a mess — it’s a process. And he is deeply involved in it.

This is learning.

Not Just Playing — Working

In Montessori terms, this is real “work” — not labour, but purposeful activity.

Emptying the basket? That’s spatial exploration.

Banging the cup on the floor? That’s sensory feedback.

Going back to the flannel again and again? That’s concentration.

At 11 months, he’s building his understanding of how the world works — not through teaching or toys with buttons, but through touch, movement, repetition, and freedom.

My Role? Step Back, Stay Close

What I’ve learned is that I don’t need to lead the play.

I don’t need to redirect or explain or clean up as he goes.

My job is to prepare the space and then trust the process.

Sometimes I sit on the floor nearby. I smile. I breathe. I watch.

And I’ve started to notice which objects he returns to, how long he stays focused, how he tests new ways of holding or using something. He’s thinking. He’s curious. He’s showing me who he is.

And Yes, It Goes Everywhere

Letting go of the urge to keep it all neat was hard at first — especially when it felt like he was “just tipping everything out.”

But I realised: that’s part of his developmental journey.

Now I keep the basket simple: a few beautiful, natural objects at a time. When he’s done, I model putting it away — sometimes he joins in, sometimes not. That’s okay.

The point isn’t tidying. The point is independence, exploration, and building focus — all at his pace.