There are a handful of quotes about childhood that I come back to from time to time, especially when I need a reminder of why Brimful exists in the first place.

One feels especially fitting right now:

"A child loves his play, not because it's easy, but because it's hard." — Benjamin Spock

As children get older, they don't need less play. They need things that grow with them: projects, puzzles, and activities that spark curiosity, invite creativity, and give them the satisfaction of figuring something out for themselves.

A fresh shipment from Mudpuppy has just arrived, and among the new arrivals is one especially suited to older kids: the Chocolate Shop 500 Piece Search and Find Puzzle.

All 500 pieces come together into a wonderfully busy chocolate shop scene, and once it's complete, more than 40 hidden objects are waiting to be found. Colorful and whimsical, but with a little more complexity for kids ready for a challenge.

And coming soon, I can't wait to introduce you to a lovely new-to-Brimful brand from Spain.

I discovered their 3D paper bird kits while looking for a gift for my almost 12-year-old. He was able to put his bird together entirely on his own, carefully folding and assembling the paper pieces.

What I especially love is that so many craft kits for kids can feel a little like “future junk,” as I like to call it. This isn’t one of them. The finished bird is something you actually want to keep. My son’s still sits on the windowsill just off our kitchen.

The kits should arrive in the next few days, and they're exactly the sort of thing I've been hoping to add for older kids: engaging enough to hold their attention, rewarding to complete, and worth keeping afterward.

Brimful turns 13 in a few weeks, which makes all of this feel particularly fitting. As the shop grows up, I like the idea of making a little more room for kids who are growing right along with it.

Because play changes as children grow, but curiosity, imagination, and the pleasure of creating something for yourself don't have to disappear with it.

I have spent the last few days doing something I knew was coming, but perhaps wasn't quite prepared for emotionally.

My husband and I flew to Virginia to move our oldest son in for his freshman year at a senior military college, and then came home to immediately put our oldest daughter on a plane to begin her sophomore year.

There are still two kids at home to keep me busy. The house is not empty. Life is certainly not quiet.

And yet, my heart feels a little stomped on.

Watching my son, with his newly shaved head and military uniform, march away into a boot camp-style week of college orientation opened up a well of tears I did not realize I needed to release. Pride in seeing him move toward the future he has worked for mingled with memories of him as a baby, chubby and sweet. Somehow, in that moment, I could see both versions of him at once.

I miss them. I feel unsettled. At moments, I have the strange sensation that pieces of myself are missing.

Lately, I have been reading The Book You Wish Your Parents Had Read by Philippa Perry, and one thing it has reinforced for me is just how important it is that we learn to recognize and process our emotions, and that we help our children learn to do the same.

That sounds simple enough. But I think recognizing that this matters is half the battle.

So much of our instinct, especially as parents, is to make difficult feelings go away. When our children are sad, disappointed, anxious, angry, or lonely, we want to reassure them. We want to fix the problem. We want to tell them everything will be okay.

And sometimes, of course, reassurance is exactly what they need.

But feelings do not always need to be fixed.

Sometimes they simply need to be noticed and named.

I am trying to practice that myself this week.

I am not going to let these blue feelings swallow me, but I am also not going to pretend they are not there. I can say: I am sad. This transition is hard.

I can also remind myself that these feelings make sense.

I am proud of them.

I am excited for them.

I am grateful that they are growing into people who are ready to step out into the world.

And I miss them terribly.

All of those things can be true at the same time.

So over the coming days, I am going to be a little easier on myself. I am going to dip into my own toolbox of healthy coping mechanisms, the things I know help me feel grounded, connected, and more like myself, and trust that these feelings will soften as I move through them.

And it makes me think about how much harder this work can be for children.

If a week like this can leave me, a grown adult, feeling completely off balance, how much more important is it that we give children the language and tools to understand what is happening inside them?

One of the things I love about having a children's shop is finding products that can help families begin these conversations in ordinary, low-pressure ways.

The I Heard Your Feelings Conversation Cards are one of those finds. Each card presents a situation and invites children to think about what someone might be feeling. Sometimes it can be much easier for a child to talk about the feelings of a character in a picture than to immediately explain their own.

And somewhere in that conversation, they begin learning something important: feelings have names. Feelings can be talked about. Feelings change. And having one does not mean something has gone terribly wrong.

Explore the I Heard Your Feelings Conversation Cards

Maybe that is one of the most valuable things we can teach our children.

Not how to avoid sadness, disappointment, anger, worry, or grief.

But how to recognize those feelings when they arrive, make room for them, and know what helps them move through to the other side.

It is something I want my children to know.

And, apparently, something I still need to practice myself.

This post is a little more personal than what I usually share here. But I often think of Brimful as the kind of shop that could just as easily sit on a little corner somewhere. If you walked in after the weekend and we found ourselves chatting across the counter about how our days had been, this is probably what I would tell you.

So this is what is on my heart.

Story Rug by Sophie Blackall and Phoebe Wahl is a delightful new picture book that feels destined for a place in a well-loved home library. Both are accomplished storytellers and artists in their own right, and this collaboration beautifully highlights their individual talents.

From the publisher's description:

"The children of Class 203 are learning to braid. They started with hair and shoelaces, and now the children have brought rags from home. Their braid gets longer and longer until one idea transforms it into an extraordinary surprise for their teacher."

The first time I read through the book, I found myself completely absorbed. I loved the central story of a classroom overtaken by the joy of making something together, but I was equally drawn to all the smaller stories unfolding within Phoebe Wahl's illustrations.

Every child in Class 203 feels distinct, and the pictures are packed with small, lively details. The diversity of the class gives many young readers the chance to find themselves on the page. That's especially moving to me, since I didn't grow up with many picture books that reflected my mixed Chinese heritage. I always feel a pull toward books like this, where children can open the pages and see that they belong in the story.

What struck me is how much depth the story finds in something so simple. A classroom braiding project could easily stay small, but Sophie Blackall gives it real emotional shape. She clearly understands how children think and play, and how an ordinary activity can take on a life of its own.

The authors have created a perfect bedtime story, gentle enough for the end of the day but rich enough to invite another reading. It's the kind of book children will want to read and reread, noticing something new each time.

I can imagine this being a book children remember when they are older. Years from now, the sight of a braided rug or a basket of fabric scraps might carry them back to sitting close beside someone they love, hearing Story Rug read aloud and studying its colorful pictures. It becomes woven into childhood itself.

Story Rug is now available at Brimful.