Some time ago I wrote about being befuddled by the appeal of “playing cars”–dozens of little Matchbox cars lined up across the windowsill, parked in the midst of the pattern of the diningroom rug, and raced across the kitchen floor. But at least I could SEE them.
Oscar’s latest fascination with teeny tiny barely perceptible LEGO has given me pause–as well as more than one headache and occasional elevated blood pressure. However, despite my protestations, I must acknowledge not only how much he loves playing with them but what an amazing learning tool they truly are.
So, what’s a mother to do? Having to pick them up off the floor at the end of every day didn’t seem to be something I wanted to do–with or without Oscar’s help. And with an eager-to-crawl seven-month-old among us, I didn’t want to take the chance that he would find one before I did. Plus, every time Edgar “discovered” something Oscar had built, he took it apart “just to see how it worked.” This did not go over well with Oscar, and histrionics ensued. And apparently we couldn’t just throw the LEGO sets in the trash (not that I entertained that idea for more than an hour a second).
May I present a solution to our problem:
Oscar has “moved in” to Don’s office and studio space. He has his own desk to set up his LEGO as he sees fit, the tiny pieces stay far away from August’s mouth, and the completed ships are no where near Edgar’s curious hands. And Oscar and Don are enjoying some time together–just the two of them–listening to music, talking, and just hanging out.
Maybe this LEGO isn’t so bad after all . . .