I thought we had exhausted every possible game with Dienes blocks. Turns out we had barely scratched the surface.
Dienes blocks are a very flexible tool for developing a child’s thinking. To me, it’s hard to find another toy with this kind of range. We thought we had played every possible game and hit a creative wall. However, there were dozens more ideas we hadn’t tried yet.
Move into the house
For this game, you’ll need a set of Dienes blocks, paper, and markers. Draw a house with two rooms. In one room live all the small shapes, in the other all the large ones. Make sure you show the size with simple symbols.
You can also sort the house by colour. In the red room live all the red shapes, in the yellow room the yellow ones, and so on.
Once your child is comfortable with a single-storey house, move on to a two-storey house. On the first floor (show them clearly) live the small blocks, on the second all the big ones. In the first entrance live the yellow shapes, in the second the blue, in the third the red.
And then you can build a three-storey house. Three floors, four entrances. Help each “resident” find their room.
Find the way out of the forest
For this game, you’ll need markers, a large sheet of paper such as A3, and your Dienes blocks. Draw a forest, with a clearing in the centre, and paths leading out in different directions. On each path, draw colour symbols (yellow, blue, red).
Let your child help the blocks (or little piglets, if you like) find their way out of the forest. Explain that, for example, blue ones can only travel along the path marked with blue.
Now add a “not” sign by crossing out the blue circle. When your child tries to take a blue block along that path, explain that it can’t go there. That path is not for blue. But it is open to anything that is not blue. Try sending red and yellow blocks along it.
Once they get the idea, you can add more features—big and small, thick and thin, different shapes. You can also add more paths to make the challenge richer.
You are sitting in front of a group of preschoolers, book in hand. You may wonder whether this will be the story that captures their imagination. I know, I’ve been this teacher.
After years of working with young children in early childhood settings across Australia, I’ve learned something important: the right picture book doesn’t just entertain. It teaches, connects, and opens up a whole world of learning.
That’s why I put together the Storykate Booklist. It is a curated collection of the very best picture books for storytime with preschool children. The list is complete with activity extensions and learning prompts for each one.
Here’s a taste of what’s inside.
Why Picture Books Are So Powerful in Early Childhood
Picture books are far more than bedtime entertainment. I believe they have to be chosen thoughtfully and shared intentionally.
Great books build language and literacy through rich vocabulary, rhyme, and repetitive text – think of Outcome 5 or language domain
They develop emotional intelligence by exploring feelings, empathy, and relationships
Books spark curiosity and inquiry: a great story always leads to great questions
Books support cognitive development through sequencing, prediction, and problem-solving- think of the learning outcome 4
Create community: shared stories build connection between children and educators – links well to Outcome 2
The books I’ve selected aren’t just popular. Every book has been read many times in real early childhood settings. They are genuinely engaging, captivating, and rich with learning potential.
A sneak peek at some favourites
🐛 The Very Hungry Caterpillar by Eric Carle
A timeless classic that teaches numbers, days of the week, healthy eating, and the life cycle of a butterfly: all through gorgeous collage illustrations. Perfect for extending into felt board stories, garden observations, and lifecycle puzzles.
🦁 The Gruffalo by Julia Donaldson
Children love this one for its rhyming patterns, imaginative storytelling, and lessons in courage and problem-solving. A brilliant book for extending into puppet making, dramatic play, and drawing fantastical creatures.
🐨 Possum Magic by Mem Fox
A quintessentially Australian story that introduces children to native animals, iconic Australian foods, and the beauty of our landscape. Wonderful for map activities, food tasting, and connecting children to Country.
🐻 We’re Going on a Bear Hunt by Michael Rosen
Repetitive, rhythmic, and irresistible for young children. This one extends beautifully into obstacle courses, sound walks, bush walks, and collaborative storytelling.
🌈 The Rainbow Fish by Marcus Pfister
A stunning story about sharing, kindness, and the true meaning of friendship — with shimmering illustrations that children absolutely love. Perfect for process art, sensory play, and acts of kindness challenges.
🧙 Room on the Broom by Julia Donaldson
Friendship, teamwork, and bravery: all wrapped up in a magical rhyming adventure. Children love the dramatic play extensions: making potions, building brooms, and re-enacting the story.
What Makes My Booklist Different
There are plenty of “best books for kids” lists on the internet. But this one was built by an experienced early childhood educator.
Every book recommendation includes:
✅ Why this book / the specific learning value it offers ✅ Prompts and extensions / hands-on activities to extend the story into play, inquiry, and deeper learning ✅ Australian context / including Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander stories and Australian wildlife ✅ Diversity and inclusion / books that reflect the beautiful diversity of Australian families and communities
This is the kind of resource I wish I’d had when I started out in childcare in 2007…
Who Is This Resource For?
This booklist is perfect for you , if you are
👩🏫 Early childhood educator looking for fresh storytime inspiration
📚 Certificate III and Diploma ECE student building your professional practice
🏠 Family day care educator creating meaningful learning experiences at home
👨👩👧 Parent who want to extend their child’s love of books beyond the page
Get the Full Storykate Booklist
The sneak peek above is just a small taste of what’s inside. The full Storykate Booklist includes over 35 carefully selected picture books — each with detailed learning rationales and rich activity extensions across literacy, maths, science, dramatic play, art, and more.
It’s a resource you’ll come back to again and again throughout your early childhood career.
Hey educators! Want to learn to write better observations? Let’s do it together!
WORKSHOP
Read the following scenario and then answer the questions.
Kate is an educator in a four‑year‑old kindergarten program. Over the past two weeks, she has been observing Mia, a child who recently returned after a short illness, to better understand how Mia’s wellbeing is being supported in the group.
During free indoor play, Mia often chooses the home corner. She carefully sets out plates and cups and talks softly while pretending to prepare meals. On Tuesday, another child reached for one of the cups Mia was using. Mia pulled the cup back toward herself and said, “I’m not finished yet.” When the other child persisted, Mia stood up quickly and moved to a different area of the room without speaking. Kate noticed that Mia resumed play independently, but her movements were tense and rushed.
In the outdoor environment, Mia spends most of her time near the climbing structure. She watches other children climbing and sliding, occasionally stepping closer but rarely climbing herself. On Thursday, when Kate asked if Mia would like support to climb the ladder, Mia shook her head and said quietly, “I’ll just watch.” After a few minutes, Mia joined another child rolling balls down the slide and laughed when the balls bounced away.
During group music time, Mia sits close to Kate and participates in familiar songs, smiling and doing the actions. When a new song is introduced, Mia covers her ears briefly. She leans into Kate. She slowly re‑engages once the song becomes predictable.
At lunch time, Mia confidently opens her lunchbox and begins eating. She chats easily with a nearby child about their food but becomes upset when her yoghurt spills. Mia says, “It’s all messed up,” and pushes the container away. With Kate’s reassurance, Mia takes a few deep breaths. Kate helps her clean up. Mia accepts a replacement snack. She remains quiet for the rest of lunch.
At pick‑up time, Mia waves excitedly when her mum arrives. She runs over, talking quickly about the day. However, when Kate approaches to share an observation, Mia looks down and holds onto her mum’s arm until the conversation ends.
Let’s reflect on Mia’s learning?
What behaviours indicate positive wellbeing on Mia’s part?
What behaviours suggest that Mia might benefit from additional support?
What could Kate do to support Mia’s wellbeing and sense of security throughout the day?
As a young mum, I was genuinely allured by Glenn Doman’s approach. It sounded scientific, ambitious, and hopeful. Who would not want to give their child every possible advantage? I tried it. I made the cards. I followed the routines. I believed I was opening doors that might otherwise stay closed.
But over time, questions began to creep in. Quiet ones at first. Then louder.
Who Was Glenn Doman?
In the 1940s, Dr Glenn Doman began working with a small interdisciplinary group that included a neurosurgeon, physician, physiotherapist, speech therapist, psychologist, methodologist, and early childhood educator.
The group formed in response to an urgent challenge: how to support children who had suffered severe brain injuries. At the time, no one had ever fully recovered from such injuries, and the outlook was bleak.
Doman and his colleagues decided that the only way forward was to focus directly on the injured brain. But after years of work, they realised something important. It was not enough to work with the damaged brain itself.
What mattered was returning to the earliest stages of development. The brain needed the chance to go back and relearn fundamental developmental steps, such as crawling and moving on all fours. These stages, they believed, were essential for healthy brain development.
As their work progressed, neurosurgeons joined the group and began performing radical procedures. In some cases, large areas of disorganised brain tissue were surgically removed. These areas were thought to interfere with healthier regions, creating neurological noise.
After surgery and intensive developmental intervention, some children showed remarkable improvement. A small number were even able to pass standard IQ tests, sometimes achieving above average results.
Doman later said:
“Even in our most fantastic dreams, we could not have imagined that a child who had lost billions of brain cells could achieve results equal to or sometimes better than the average child.”
The Question That Changes Everything
Let us pause and think.
If a child who has lost part of their brain can perform just as well as a child with an intact brain, what does that say about the so‑called “normal” child?
Why does a child with twice the neurological capacity not automatically achieve more?
The conclusion feels uncomfortable but clear. If we invested the same level of time, attention, and deliberate teaching into typically developing children as we do into children with brain injuries, many of them might far surpass average expectations.
In other words, the “normal” child may not be the gold standard we assume.
From my own perspective, as a follower of Vygotsky, this resonates deeply. I believe in social learning. The more adults engage with a child, talk with them, listen to them, and genuinely care, the more the brain develops. Neural connections strengthen. Language expands. Understanding deepens. And happiness grows.
The Doman Method: Why I Question It
Glenn Doman went on to develop his method of early childhood development through the Institutes for the Achievement of Human Potential in Philadelphia. The idea was simple and compelling. The younger the child, the greater their capacity to learn. Parents, not institutions, should be the child’s primary teachers.
Learning, according to Doman, should begin as early as possible.
The method combines physical exercises based on innate reflexes with structured exposure to knowledge through flashcards. Programs promise early reading, encyclopedic knowledge, and even foreign languages.
Doman famously said learning should be a game that stops before the child gets tired. Interest, he argued, is sustained through speed and novelty.
As a young mum, this made sense to me. I wanted to do something meaningful. Something proactive. Something backed by science.
But as an experienced educator, I no longer support this method.
There are gentler, more ecological ways to support learning. Play. Conversation. Exploration. Shared curiosity.
The Good and the Difficult
To be fair, there are positives.
The method encourages deep parental involvement. It connects physical development with cognitive growth. Many children raised with the method show impressive abilities, both mentally and physically. It is also accessible, designed for home use, and well-documented.
But there is a cost.
In this approach, the child often becomes an object rather than a subject of learning. Adults decide what matters. Adults decide the pace. Adults decide the knowledge target.
Anyone who has watched the documentary Smart Babies may feel the tension. At some point, learning becomes tiring. Maintaining attention becomes the main struggle. Flashcards are waved in front of faces that simply want to move, explore, or rest.
There is also a strange discomfort in watching very young children perform adult knowledge on command. Sometimes it feels less like learning and more like training.
As a parent, the question that stayed with me was this:
Why do I need my toddler to distinguish a crow from a raccoon at eighteen months?
Will this encyclopedic knowledge still matter later? Will it stay? Will it nourish curiosity, or replace it?
In the documentary, a seventeen‑year‑old who had been raised using the Doman method could not recognise the airplane models he once learned as a child. The knowledge had not endured.
I found myself wondering whether it might have been better to play in the garden. To experiment with water. To listen to stories. To simply be together in learning.
Where I Stand Now
I understand why parents are drawn to the Doman method. I was one of them.
But with time, experience, and a deeper understanding of learning, I have come to value slower, relational, play‑based approaches. Learning that grows from interaction, not instruction. From joy, not urgency.
