The tiger who followed me from childhood into motherhood

Some children’s books stay with you long after you’ve outgrown bedtime stories. For me, one of them is Judith Kerr’s The Tiger Who Came to Tea, the wonderfully improbable tale of a tiger who turns up uninvited, eats everything in the house and leaves without so much as offering to help with the washing-up.

I loved it as a child, although I suspect I was rather more impressed by the tiger’s appetite than his manners. There was something deliciously ridiculous about this enormous animal sitting down to tea with Sophie and her mother, helping himself to the contents of their kitchen as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

Now, as a mother who had my youngest son at 40, I find myself revisiting the books I grew up with. Reading them to a child of my own brings a different sort of pleasure. I remember being the little girl captivated by the story, but these days, I’m the mum wondering what on earth I’d do if an enormous tiger appeared at my front door!

So when I discovered that ARTventurers Newcastle had organised a messy play session inspired by The Tiger Who Came to Tea, I couldn’t resist taking eight-month-old Cyrus along. He was too young to appreciate the literary connection, of course, but the prospect of investigating porridge oats and spaghetti seemed right up his street.

Better still, for once, the mess wouldn’t be happening in my living room!

Our first Baby ARTventurers class in Newcastle

Our morning began at Great Park Community Centre in Newcastle, where we were welcomed by Elaine, who was leading the session. After a friendly introduction and a quick explanation of the activities, we were free to explore the different play areas.

The room had been transformed into a miniature world inspired by Judith Kerr’s famous tiger. There was a pit filled with porridge oats, complete with kitchen utensils and toy tigers, alongside plastic balls, watering cans and spaghetti. A separate painting area offered another opportunity for little hands to get thoroughly mucky.

It was certainly more adventurous than anything I’d have attempted on my living room floor. I could already imagine the porridge oats finding their way beneath the furniture and the spaghetti making an unwelcome appearance in the carpet several days later.

Fortunately, I’d come prepared. Cyrus was dressed in his vest and nappy, while I’d chosen clothes that could survive a close encounter with paint. At eight months old, he was at that wonderful stage when almost everything was worth investigating, particularly if he could get his hands on it.

There was no pressure to move from one activity to another or produce something recognisable to take home. The babies could explore at their own pace, while we parents sat alongside them, offering encouragement and occasionally intervening when something looked destined for a little mouth.

Porridge oats and the pleasure of making a mess

One of the loveliest things about the morning was being able to watch Cyrus investigate unfamiliar textures without worrying about the inevitable clearing up. At home, I’m usually hovering nearby with a cloth, rescuing household objects from curious fingers or wondering how someone so small can create quite so much washing.

Here, making a mess was the whole point.

The porridge oats offered something different to the usual collection of rattles and soft toys. There were things to touch, scoop and move around, while the spaghetti and other materials provided plenty of opportunities for sensory exploration.

At eight months, babies are still discovering what their hands can do. Reaching for objects, grasping unfamiliar shapes and exploring different textures are all part of that process. Messy play offers a chance to practise these skills, although I’m fairly certain Cyrus wasn’t concerned about his developmental milestones.

I also liked that the session encouraged us to let the babies take the lead. It’s surprisingly easy to become the parent who constantly wipes sticky fingers or redirects little hands towards something cleaner. Yet babies learn about their surroundings by exploring them, and sometimes that means allowing a little disorder.

Naturally, I kept a close eye on what Cyrus was handling, particularly as babies of his age are inclined to investigate everything with their mouths. But I could relax enough to enjoy the experience rather than spend the morning worrying about the state of his clothes.

For once, a grubby vest was evidence of a morning well spent.

Why I enjoyed messy play as much as Cyrus

One of the things I’ve noticed about motherhood is how easily a day can disappear into the practical business of looking after a baby. There are feeds to organise, clothes to wash and a seemingly endless collection of small jobs that need doing before you can sit down with a cup of coffee.

Even when you’re at home together, it’s tempting to divide your attention between your child and everything else demanding it. A baby class offers a welcome change from that routine, particularly when someone else has organised the activities.

I didn’t have to prepare anything, find suitable materials or wonder whether the paint would wash out of the furniture. I could simply sit beside Cyrus and enjoy watching him discover something new.

There was also the pleasure of being around other parents and babies. Having a child at 40 meant returning to baby groups at a different stage of life from some of the younger mothers, but once you’re sitting on the floor surrounded by toys and trying to prevent your baby from eating something unsuitable, age becomes rather irrelevant.

We were all there for much the same reason: to give our little ones an enjoyable morning and perhaps have a bit of adult company ourselves.

And I rather liked the thought that a story I’d enjoyed as a child was now providing the inspiration for an experience with my own son.

A musical ending with sparkly pom-poms

Once the messy play had finished, it was time to clean Cyrus up and prepare for the final part of the session. We rounded off the morning with a sing-along and sparkly pom-poms, which made a cheerful change from the porridge oats and paint.

There’s something rather endearing about a room full of adults enthusiastically singing children’s songs while their babies look on with varying degrees of interest. Some little ones are captivated by the movement and colour, while others appear to be wondering why their parents have suddenly become quite so animated.

It was a lovely way to finish the class, giving everyone a chance to come together after exploring the different activities.

By the time we were ready to leave, Cyrus had enjoyed his first taste of Baby ARTventurers, and I’d had a morning that felt rather different from our usual routine. We’d managed to enjoy ourselves without bringing half the contents of the messy play area home, which I considered a considerable achievement.

Would we return to Baby ARTventurers Newcastle?

Absolutely. What appealed to me most was the relaxed atmosphere and the opportunity for Cyrus to experience activities I probably wouldn’t attempt in quite the same way at home.

I’m always interested in finding things to do with babies in Newcastle that offer something beyond the usual soft play centres and coffee shop visits. Don’t get me wrong, I have enormous affection for a decent cappuccino, particularly after a night of interrupted sleep, but it’s lovely to discover somewhere that gives little ones a chance to explore something different.

The Tiger Who Came to Tea theme made the morning particularly special. Judith Kerr’s book was part of my childhood, and here I was, several decades later, watching my own baby enjoy an activity inspired by the same familiar story.

I doubt Cyrus will remember his first ARTventurers class, but that’s one of the peculiar pleasures of having a baby. We spend so much time creating experiences they may never consciously recall, while quietly collecting memories of our own.

One day, when he’s old enough to appreciate the story, I’ll read him The Tiger Who Came to Tea and tell him about the morning we went to meet the tiger in Newcastle.

And how, for once, I didn’t have to clean up afterwards.