I've been thinking about this a lot recently and, I'll be honest, it bothers me a little bit. It shows just how far we've drifted away from the natural world.

If you ask most children to name their favourite dinosaur, they'll probably give you ten (granted, I hated those days of having to try and pronounce the things! Even third child down I still can't manage it!).

If you ask them to name Pokémon... goodness, they'll put us to shame (except if you're like my husband who has boxes full in the loft!).

But ask them to name the plants growing on their walk to school and, more often than not, they'll have no idea... and I often wonder if they even notice them at all.

I'm not blaming anyone. Sadly, it's just the world we live in now.

It made me wonder though... when did we stop introducing children to the plants that have looked after us for centuries?

I know I was never taught it, despite having such fond memories of my grandad in the garden. He passed away when I was five, so I never really had the chance to learn from him.

When Penny was little, I'd point things out as we walked.

"That's lavender."

"That's chamomile."

"Rub this leaf between your fingers... can you smell the lemon?"

It wasn't a lesson (I wasn't trying to teach her botany!), we were just outside together.

Now she'll spot plantain before I do. She'll proudly tell anyone who'll listen that calendula is good for skin. She gets ridiculously excited if she finds yarrow growing somewhere unexpected (although she complains it makes her skin itchy... which is actually a good thing because she's learning what works for her body and what doesn't).

I absolutely love that. Not because I expect her to spend her life making skincare. Honestly, she might grow up and never make another balm, although right now she loves making things with me at home and I'll happily take that while it lasts.

That isn't the point.

The point is that she notices.

She looks and she sees the world differently. In the woods she's forever on the hunt for the Fae. It's beautifully magical to watch and she'd happily disappear into her own world of imagination for hours... or is it?

But there's another reason I think it's important.

I want her to grow up knowing that the natural world isn't just beautiful... it's useful.

If she gets stung by a nettle, I'd love her first thought to be, "I wonder if there's a dock leaf nearby?"

If she's out walking and spots plantain, I'd love her to know that for generations it has been used as one of nature's first-aid plants.

If her skin feels sore after a long day in the sunshine, she'll know why we reach for calendula.

If she's feeling overwhelmed, she'll recognise the smell of lemon balm because she's grown up with it.

If she's itchy, she'll know why oats find their way into our bath.

I'm not saying children should be making herbal remedies on their own, and there will always be a place for modern medicine. But I do think we've lost something by forgetting the everyday knowledge that used to be passed naturally from one generation to the next.

Plants have looked after people for thousands of years - surely our children deserve to know their names. I think that's something we've lost a little.

We've become very good at entertaining children. Keeping them busy and filling every spare moment. Their schedules are packed with after-school clubs and organised activities, leaving very little time to simply be bored.

But children are naturally curious. They don't actually need us to create wonder because wonder is already there. They just need the space to discover it.

Give a child a feather and they'll invent a story.

Hand them a handful of flower petals and they'll make perfume.

Show them a patch of moss and suddenly they've discovered a fairy village.

A stick can be hundreds of things... just not a stick!

That's exactly what I wanted Little Wild Spa to capture.

People often assume it's about creating little beauty treatments. It really isn't (although for the children it probably is!).

Every activity has a purpose;

They're mixing herbs because herbs have stories to tell. They're making bath potions because they're learning what different plants have traditionally been used for and they're picking the herbs because they are tuning into how they are feeling - both physically and emotionally.

They're making flower crowns because childhood should still have room for imagination.

They're discovering that plants aren't just things we walk past. They have names, have history and a whole lot of purpose and that "weeds" are amongst the most wonderous plants of all!

What I'm really hoping happens is that a child starts asking questions.

"Why does lavender smell like that?"

"Can we grow calendula in our garden?"

"What else can lemon balm do?"

"How am I feeling today?"

That's the moment the magic starts because curiosity has a funny way of growing. One question turns into another... although be prepared for a lot of "Whys"!

Before you know it, you've got a child who notices the seasons changing. They recognise birdsong. They know the difference between daisies and chamomile. They stop to watch bees instead of walking straight past them.

It's a gentle invitation to find stillness amongst the busy, noisy days and perhaps we can learn something from our children too.

Instead of saying, "Come on, hurry up," maybe we stop for a moment, stand beside them and look where they're looking. Notice what they've noticed.

I think those are the moments that stay with us and those moments quietly become part of who we are.

That's really what Bodhi & Fae has always been about.

Creating memories and conversations. Helping families rediscover the knowledge that once passed naturally from one generation to the next and creating little family rituals that become so ordinary they don't feel remarkable at the time... until one day you realise they've quietly shaped the way your child sees the world.

Maybe that's the real magic.

Not that the Fae are hiding in the woods (although I quite like to think they are!).

It's that nature has this incredible way of making us slow down just enough to notice what was there all along, and perhaps one of the greatest gifts we can give our children isn't another toy, it's helping them feel completely at home in the natural world.

Because if they grow up knowing that the woodland, the hedgerow and even the weeds beneath their feet are full of stories, comfort and possibility, I think we've given them something they'll carry for the rest of their lives.