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Don’t cry over spilled blocks

When my son builds, creates, and interprets his innovations, my heart soars.  His bounding spirit so full of purpose and exploration is a constant reminder to look at things differently and to simple create.

Lately, everything he creates is related to dinosaurs.  Everything.

Together, we’ll build with Lego Duplo blocks to create something that looks sort of horse and giraffe-ish.  But, Calvin confidently dubs it a dinosaur–a specific type of dinosaur with specific dinosaur features.

For example, a tower of 20 colorful stacked bricks is…

a big, big dinosaurus rex with a loooong neck

Noted.

Actually, in this drawing, I can actually see the belly, a tail, and feet.  When I asked about the scribbles on top and what they were, he kinda shrugged and smiled, and then changed the subject. That was AFTER he named this drawing “Dinosaur for Daddy.”

———————————————————————————————-

I want to encourage Calvin to play, create, and imagine.

But…

I kinda hate it when he dumps the legos allthefloor. ALLoverthefloor. allOVERthefloor. just before dinner time. or before we leave the home.

I mean, everything is all picked up for the evening and suddenly, I hear…

CRASH! Plastic bricks colliding with dozens of other plastic bricks into a heap of rubble on the floor of my recently picked up and very smallish living room carpet.

A few pieces tumble and roll under the couch and the dining table and my desk (did I mention we have a rather tight space?).

And then, my shoulders collapse.  I let out an audible groan.

Maybe it’s that I’m tired of our cramped, small space where tripping over a plastic brick or ball is just the daily grind because there is NO other place where my son can play.

Perhaps I just get tired at 6pm. Period.

Or maybe, my husband and I need to lighten up and just let our son’s free-form expression occur regardless of trip hazard and time of day. (Seriously, why must he dump the entire bucket on the floor RIGHT before we’re about to sit down for dinner.  Why then?)

———————————————————————————————–

But, that’s not the only time he chooses to pull the bucket of plastic blocks out of their shelf.

Yesterday, he pulled them out at 7:55 AM–he and I needed to get out the door by 8 AM to greet a patient scheduled 30 minutes later.

I heard the plastic contents empty on the floor as I was scurrying about our apartment and getting ready to load up our gear and lunches into the vehicle.

That sound made me stop in my tracks.  Groan. Sigh. I asked my son, “Really?  Did you have to pour those out now?”

Because, let’s face it, two year-olds completely have the time concept figured out.  At the most inconvenient moment, THAT is when they need to go to the bathroom or create a giant mess, or completely take off every single piece of clothing that they’re wearing (just as you’re getting ready to head out the door).

Then, I just shrugged it off.  I asked him to help pick them up because we needed to leave to get to the office and we didn’t want to leave a mess.

Shockingly, without a protest, he picked up every single block and very quickly returned each one to the bucket.

That’s where I ruined everything.  As I dashed to put the bucket back on the shelf (because I just couldn’t wait for my son to do it himself), the bucket tipped on the shelf, and all the blocks poured out onto the floor.

I did it.  I spilled them.  (Hand raised high) It was ME!

I stopped.  Looked at my son squarely, and I said, “I’m so sorry.  I spilled all those blocks after you picked them up.  Mommy made a big mess.  We don’t have time to pick them up now, we have to leave.”

It’s okay Mommy.  It’s alright.

Blessed by the grace of a two year-old.

*Lego Duplo Brick photo by tlossen via Flickr.
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