Animal yoga
Ten minutes of stretches, each one named after an animal.
- Indoors
- 15 minutes
- Calm
- Free
- Ages 2–9
Ages & Stages
Tell us how old your children are. We'll find activities that work for the whole group at once — with a real role for the two-year-old and the fifteen-year-old.
Ten minutes of stretches, each one named after an animal.
Digging, damming, skimming — one place, five different games.
One safe loop, ridden at everyone's own speed, with a snack stop.
Three short games, points for each, a wooden-spoon trophy at the end.
Stack sticks, pinecones and hollow stems into a wildlife apartment block.
Tent up indoors, torches, sleeping bags, and a proper night of it.
Build a whole town from boxes — towers, roads, a river of blue paper.
Two pounds each, one shop, buy the best thing. Judging is brutal.
Pick a country, cook one dish from it, learn three facts at the table.
A camping stove or fire pit in the garden turns beans on toast into an event.
Bake plain, decorate wildly, judge on categories nobody expects.
Blankets, chairs and pegs indoors, or sticks and branches in the woods.
One child hides the treasure and maps it, everyone else hunts.
Tickets, a snack counter and a film everyone voted for.
Four rounds, questions pitched per person, teams of mixed ages.
Cushions, hoops and a stopwatch — the classic that works for every age at once.
Recycling bin in, spaceship out. Thirty minutes on the clock.
One song each, everyone dances, nobody judges. Fifteen minutes of pure energy burn.
Same handful of bricks each, same brief, wildly different results.
Everyone finds a book for someone else in the family.
Headlines, weather, a comic strip, and an interview with the youngest.
Twelve objects on a tray, one disappears. Who spots it?
Turn any museum into a hunt with three missions per child.
One surprise ingredient, everyone has to use it. Teams of two, mixed ages.
A list of things to find on a walk — one line per child, pitched at their level.
Each person adds a sentence. It gets ridiculous fast.
Three categories: distance, airtime, and most ridiculous design.
Everyone chooses one item for the basket, including the odd one out.
A giant drawing across the drive that everyone contributes a section to.
Collect stones, paint them, hide them for other families to find.
Everyone gets a station — dough squashing, sauce spreading, topping design — and dinner sorted at the end.
Seeds in pots on a windowsill — the payoff arrives for weeks.
A tub of dry rice, scoops and hidden treasures. Toddler heaven.
Nets, buckets, and whatever the tide left behind.
Flour, salt, water. Model anything, bake hard, paint tomorrow.
Stand a toy in the sun and draw around its shadow. Come back an hour later.
Warm bubbly water, plastic bowls, and half an hour of peace.
Old socks, googly eyes, and a show performed from behind the sofa.
Soaked sponges instead of balloons — no litter, endless ammo.
Splashing for the little ones, lengths or diving for the older ones, same hour.
Music on, timer set, everyone gets a category. Genuinely enjoyable, honestly.
One phone, ten shots each, then a family vote on the best.
Lights off, one torch, catch a beam on someone and they're it.
Buckets, sponges, and one child on hose duty. Somehow it's fun.
Deliberately go out in the rain. Rate every puddle out of ten.
Crumbs on the sill, a tally chart, and twenty minutes of quiet.