Saturday, February 5, 2011
Pie N Burger
Drew turned four, and to say I am amazed by how fast time has moved is an understatement. Four years ago my wife and I were in the hospital as she braved 24+ hours of labor to be ultimately met by a C-section, and brought this miracle into the world. The way I remember things though intrigues me.
The night before Drew was born my wife and I went to a small diner. It is one of our favorite places and we have fond memories of eating there, we ate dinner and later that night my wife, 41 weeks into being pregnant with our first, went into labor.
So the day before Drew's birthday my wife and I went out on a date, and we arrived at that very same diner, but this was not a plan. I didn't even think of that, but sure enough the flood of memories came to me in an instant. Then I wish it was a plan. If you ask me to mention specifics of the last 4 years of fatherhood, I'd hit and miss with details, but the one and only thing I do know is I have loved it, and this fascinates me.
In Drew's classroom for his birthday they did a "story of your life" and there was Drew declaring at one years old he remembered us reading to him and getting back scratches from momma. I cried.
My memory of that first year is far different, but I do know that his birthday will forever be tied to me, the day I became a dad, and the day I started my career (one year later) both started on that day. I can remember a lot, and only a little at the same time about that first year, and sadly when you ask new parents or old ones for that matter about parenthood the overriding sentiment seems to be "tired."
I am tired this is true. I remember being clueless (I still am) and I remember being afraid and feeling small. But parenthood for me is me meeting God for the first time. Until that moment I held my son I felt big, like I was so important, much like any 20 something probably does, and as if someone hit a switch I shrank and God showed me how truly awesome life is. I held my son in my arms and I was looking at the face of God, a perfect pure child, and I felt completely overwhelmed with the incredible gift I had been entrusted with...I still am.
I have witnessed a young child grow to the point of self expression, from nothing, and yet the minutia of details you would think I could recall with eerie accuracy, I can't. In fact the minutia is a blur and my memory is more of feeling. In some ways I regret not journaling and blogging more as my son was little, but part of me is happy I have my feelings mixed with photos. While I lack a crystal clear picture I think some of my less than perfect memories are blurred even if that meant I loss the perfect clarity of the wonderful moments.
My son just turned four, and I hope he realizes how much of a gift he is to me.
Friday, January 28, 2011
The Library
Creating memories can be as simple as a walk on the pier at sunset, to a trip to Ireland in the Summer. Memories are like everything else in life; there is no limit on the amount you can spend, but the price tag doesn't make it more or less memorable.
My time with my children though profoundly long one day, can be profoundly short when you look back at it. My son is about to turn four, and I can remember like yesterday his birth; it is scary to think how soon he will be going to college. Yet the harder I try to think of things to do with my children in order to create another family moment the harder it is. It is sort of like falling in love, if you are looking for it, the harder it hides.
Even with events like Disneyland or a Dodger game, the downside to going there a lot minimizes the impact and it becomes just like everything else...normal. That is to say it is not like normal is wrong, or even bad, but having keepsake moments with your children and wife shouldn't always feel pedestrian. I find I can got caught in the trap though of trying to hard, swinging for the fences and looking past ideas I may have, because they are mundane.
As a young child, maybe eight years old, I had one of my fondest childhood memories of family. It wasn't Disneyland, or the circus, or even a Laker game, though all those memories are great, it was playing cards. I "shot the moon" for the first time in a game of Hearts with my family, my dad gave me twenty dollars (a family tradition for the first time you shoot the moon), and the very next hand I said I was doing it again, and he bet me another twenty dollars I couldn't. Bam! I shot it again. Now obviously forty dollars to a young child is an extra-ordinary moment in life, but it all started with a simple game of cards, and until I busted my dad, a free game of cards. We played cards a lot as a family, but this unique moment in my life stands out for good reason, and my parents never set out that Saturday afternoon to do anything particularly profound, just spend some time together.
I awoke from a long day at work the night before, I work nights, around 1:30 in the afternoon, my boys were playing and my daughter was sleeping. I showered and ate and took my boys to the library. We had some books that were due soon, and I figured they could use a change anyways. We spent an hour there just grabbing any book that spoke to their fancy, it was like toy shopping without having to pay. We got home and read books outside on a blanket just a quiet afternoon as a family.
My wife and I are hitting a new renaissance with all our children, reading is becoming such a wonderful bonding experience. The last few nights I haven't had to work I have sat in my son's bed and my wife in our younger son's bed, and I read a chapter book out loud. Sean isn't as interested yet, but he's very young, he sings and cuddles and talks with my wife as I read another chapter. Drew even fell asleep as I was reading; this was a truly special fatherhood memory for me.
Three weeks ago when initially went to the library I never thought the simple task of checking out books to read could possible bless me with such a special time with my boys. Tonight I learned a lot about being a dad; the simple moments can have some of the greatest rewards.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Cardboard
The old parenting joke about kids and Christmas is that when you have a baby, 3-12 months or so, they really only like the wrapping paper and boxes, the toys are just mildly interesting.
I think it is odd how we forget certain things about raising children as our kids get older. I sometimes go days or even a week without sitting down to read to my kids, but never did that when Drew was younger. I turn to the TV more and encourage creative play less, though I am confident that this has more to do with my energy level reducing as I have more kids and I need a break. I even just want to do nothing outside and hope that my kids will entertain themselves outside and not make me "work" with them. By no means is this common, going back to an old post the 80/20 rule I think mostly applies, but parenting has a funny way of breaking you down one minute, and building you up the next.
My wife in one of her many moments of brilliance took the kids outside on a gorgeous day, the result was an imaginative play jackpot. A cardboard box, duct tape and a pair of scissors and Drew became a knight, the real funny part is that Sean wasn't really interested in his own sword and shield.
Drew is four and his propensity towards the imaginative is life giving to me. Both he and his brother regularly make up stories and pretend play, dress up, run after made up bad guys, and are capable of playing in a world that is as fantastic as they wish. I like to think there was a time I did just that, and if my memory of childhood serves I did have some epic Lego and army men battles. As a parent I like to join them in that world, and regularly make believe with them I am a giant, or a super hero, or even just the "police man" and they pretend to be the super heroes bringing me the bad guys.
Lately though I've been back to work, and working a lot, and my desire to do anything is short lived as I am off to work (night shift) and when I get home I sleep till mid afternoon. But I managed hit the jackpot, again, outside with my son the other day. Drew asked for some armor and a helmet to compliment his sword and shield he made. He grabbed a box and the tape, and I managed to find some scissors, 20 minutes later we were able to sit down and make his helmet and armor to go with his sword and shield. He was so proud of his new found armor, and I was as proud as ever since I have a boy who will dive head first into his imagination to entertain himself.
As a parent in a consumerist society it is too easy at times to fool yourself into thinking that children have changed. When more than likely it is not the kids who changed at all, but rather us. We can't imagine a time without certain things, but our children are only exposed to things, early on, that we expose them to. Even as they grow we are still the major gate keeper to much of their influences. While now you can purchase compressed foam Nerf shields and swords, I don't think Drew would have had more fun than we did the other afternoon. If anything he would have used far less of his brain in that play time; and I wouldn't have that moment with Drew. It sort of goes back to my thoughts I have had over and over that my kids don't care about many "things" deep down, but more likely they want time and interaction with me and my wife instead. Unfortunately I manage to get sucked into the "thing" parenting instead of the "time" parenting. I fall into trying to give items to my kids, and they would have been just as happy with a cardboard cutout and a half hour with me.
I think it is odd how we forget certain things about raising children as our kids get older. I sometimes go days or even a week without sitting down to read to my kids, but never did that when Drew was younger. I turn to the TV more and encourage creative play less, though I am confident that this has more to do with my energy level reducing as I have more kids and I need a break. I even just want to do nothing outside and hope that my kids will entertain themselves outside and not make me "work" with them. By no means is this common, going back to an old post the 80/20 rule I think mostly applies, but parenting has a funny way of breaking you down one minute, and building you up the next.
My wife in one of her many moments of brilliance took the kids outside on a gorgeous day, the result was an imaginative play jackpot. A cardboard box, duct tape and a pair of scissors and Drew became a knight, the real funny part is that Sean wasn't really interested in his own sword and shield.
Drew is four and his propensity towards the imaginative is life giving to me. Both he and his brother regularly make up stories and pretend play, dress up, run after made up bad guys, and are capable of playing in a world that is as fantastic as they wish. I like to think there was a time I did just that, and if my memory of childhood serves I did have some epic Lego and army men battles. As a parent I like to join them in that world, and regularly make believe with them I am a giant, or a super hero, or even just the "police man" and they pretend to be the super heroes bringing me the bad guys.
Lately though I've been back to work, and working a lot, and my desire to do anything is short lived as I am off to work (night shift) and when I get home I sleep till mid afternoon. But I managed hit the jackpot, again, outside with my son the other day. Drew asked for some armor and a helmet to compliment his sword and shield he made. He grabbed a box and the tape, and I managed to find some scissors, 20 minutes later we were able to sit down and make his helmet and armor to go with his sword and shield. He was so proud of his new found armor, and I was as proud as ever since I have a boy who will dive head first into his imagination to entertain himself.
 |
| My Knight. |
Friday, January 7, 2011
The Bulb Syringe
I am a lousy sick person, I mope do very little that would actually make me feel better and ultimately I think I just complain. I am relatively lucky since I rarely get sick like that. To date my own children have remained basically normal kids who get sick only every so often and fortunately not too severely.
Sean, my middle child, recently came down with a flu, and then the cold to end all colds. He is miserable, and when he was running a fever refused to take any medicine; he is now big enough that he can effectively stage a protest. I don't remember many "liquid" medicines when I was a child but the few I do remember were either basically sugar, or heinous, and I didn't much like any of them. I did get St. Josephs chew-able aspirin which was great, and I never minded taking that. As if his flu was not enough he has a stuffed up nose.
Now I am not too sure when a child "learns" to blow their nose, but for whatever reason Sean isn't to into the nose blowing exercise. This is not a problem 99 times out of a 100 if your nose actually runs, but when his congestion recently got so bad that he would wake up 5 or 6 times a night it was a big problem. My wife and I got to earn the title "parent." Which should actually mean we do mean stuff to our kids so they hate us but it is the right thing to do; which is a rather crappy job. I went to the baby box and pulled out the bulb syringe to clear up his nose, and man I felt like a terrible person. I finished clearing up his nose and he shrieked in protest "Why? Why?" in a tone not heard since the tragic Nancy Kerrigan attack, and proceeded to break our hearts.
When all was said and done we had nose that was significantly less stuffed up and a child sobbing on Mama's shoulder who wanted no part of Daddy...awesome. So for two days I got to do this 3 times a night and have my toddler hate me.
A week or so later things are better, he is healthy, Drew is sick, but thank God he can blow his nose. The nose clearing made a mark with Sean though. I went to wipe his nose yesterday and he was fine with it but stated he didn't want his nose "cleaned." We even caught him a few times trying to hide the bulb syringe.
On the list of parenting things you have to do that are unpleasant at best I am sure this will end up falling pretty low, but it no less made a distinct impression on my duties as a parent. This will go down as a great metaphor for who knows how many years for me; Being a parent is fun bonding moments mixed with righteous heartbreak.
Sean, my middle child, recently came down with a flu, and then the cold to end all colds. He is miserable, and when he was running a fever refused to take any medicine; he is now big enough that he can effectively stage a protest. I don't remember many "liquid" medicines when I was a child but the few I do remember were either basically sugar, or heinous, and I didn't much like any of them. I did get St. Josephs chew-able aspirin which was great, and I never minded taking that. As if his flu was not enough he has a stuffed up nose.
Now I am not too sure when a child "learns" to blow their nose, but for whatever reason Sean isn't to into the nose blowing exercise. This is not a problem 99 times out of a 100 if your nose actually runs, but when his congestion recently got so bad that he would wake up 5 or 6 times a night it was a big problem. My wife and I got to earn the title "parent." Which should actually mean we do mean stuff to our kids so they hate us but it is the right thing to do; which is a rather crappy job. I went to the baby box and pulled out the bulb syringe to clear up his nose, and man I felt like a terrible person. I finished clearing up his nose and he shrieked in protest "Why? Why?" in a tone not heard since the tragic Nancy Kerrigan attack, and proceeded to break our hearts.
When all was said and done we had nose that was significantly less stuffed up and a child sobbing on Mama's shoulder who wanted no part of Daddy...awesome. So for two days I got to do this 3 times a night and have my toddler hate me.
A week or so later things are better, he is healthy, Drew is sick, but thank God he can blow his nose. The nose clearing made a mark with Sean though. I went to wipe his nose yesterday and he was fine with it but stated he didn't want his nose "cleaned." We even caught him a few times trying to hide the bulb syringe.
On the list of parenting things you have to do that are unpleasant at best I am sure this will end up falling pretty low, but it no less made a distinct impression on my duties as a parent. This will go down as a great metaphor for who knows how many years for me; Being a parent is fun bonding moments mixed with righteous heartbreak.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Family Breakfast
Maybe it is my job, or maybe it is just my love of breakfast, but while our family tries to share as many meals as possible together, breakfast just works for me. It is my favorite meal by far, and my kids eat with the least amount of parental prodding, so it is the most relaxing for me as well.
From early on making breakfast has been one of my favorite past times. I have vivid childhood memories of our Sunday brunch, making chorizo and eggs, waffles, or blueberry pancakes. We never really ate breakfast as a family any other time, but those moments I cherish to this day.
I started making pancakes with Drew early on, and eventually Sean joined in the fun. We make waffles, bacon and eggs, cinnamon rolls, breakfast puffs, heck anything that sounds good. I do my best to try and involve my boys rather than doing it the fast way (IE alone), but that doesn't always happen and sometimes I just make it in the quiet of the kitchen with my cup of coffee.
I love the energy of a cooking kitchen in the morning, lunch and dinner has the same amount of energy, but it is rarely fun and often stressful. Even when I bring home pastries, from the Cuban bakery we love, after a long night of work, the vibe of the family breakfast is fulfilling.
This morning my wife stayed in bed battling the flu going around and just me and the kids sat down for toast, eggs and bacon. Obviously sans one parent made things harder, but I really loved having a moment with my kids with everyone in a good mood and a successful meal to start everyone's day. At that moment I felt like a good parent providing more than just food for my kids, but time as a family.
My wife and I subscribe to the belief that daily meals as family is crucially important to a happy home, but also a healthy marriage. 5 years of marriage and 3 very small children later, our morning meal really has made being a father and husband wonderful.
From early on making breakfast has been one of my favorite past times. I have vivid childhood memories of our Sunday brunch, making chorizo and eggs, waffles, or blueberry pancakes. We never really ate breakfast as a family any other time, but those moments I cherish to this day.
I started making pancakes with Drew early on, and eventually Sean joined in the fun. We make waffles, bacon and eggs, cinnamon rolls, breakfast puffs, heck anything that sounds good. I do my best to try and involve my boys rather than doing it the fast way (IE alone), but that doesn't always happen and sometimes I just make it in the quiet of the kitchen with my cup of coffee.
I love the energy of a cooking kitchen in the morning, lunch and dinner has the same amount of energy, but it is rarely fun and often stressful. Even when I bring home pastries, from the Cuban bakery we love, after a long night of work, the vibe of the family breakfast is fulfilling.
This morning my wife stayed in bed battling the flu going around and just me and the kids sat down for toast, eggs and bacon. Obviously sans one parent made things harder, but I really loved having a moment with my kids with everyone in a good mood and a successful meal to start everyone's day. At that moment I felt like a good parent providing more than just food for my kids, but time as a family.
My wife and I subscribe to the belief that daily meals as family is crucially important to a happy home, but also a healthy marriage. 5 years of marriage and 3 very small children later, our morning meal really has made being a father and husband wonderful.
Friday, December 17, 2010
The Advent Calendar
I wish I woke up with the singular splendor of wanting to open a piece of an advent calendar. My boys are enraptured with the fun of opening the door of our Lego advent calendar. Our morning begins at 6:30 to my boys running our bedroom, proud of sleeping till the proper time and proceed to ask me to get out of bed to open the door of the current day on the advent calendar. Inside is a small trinket, a minifigure, or a small model. nothing extravagant, or over the top. If I am on my parenting "A" game I can usually facilitate peace as one of the boys build the model and the other watches, and if I am real good, they don't fight over playing with it till after I have had a cup of coffee.
I don't know when that goes away.
I knew a guy in college, let's call him George, George never seemed to make plans. George always managed to have plans mind you, but he never committed. After a while I decided Geroge wanted to know what was better out there, so as to not commit in case a better deal came. I think George was an extreme case of what happens as we grow up, but George did what we most of us eventually do, and I think what most of us do to others. We seem to decide that you can't get too up for something, enjoy a sandwich too much, or dinner, or a day at the park. If you seem to have too much enthusiasm it scares people. People become George to some degree.
I try very hard to be a happy person, respond with a positive perspective, and walk with a little joy in my life. But I hear from people after I respond with a resounding "Doing great!", "Woah try a little less coffee in the morning there." As if I there isn't anything to be that happy about. That "child" innocence becomes taboo when you age, and you really don't have to be an adult to have it happen, plenty of kids will start the attitude against happiness long before they pay rent and bills.
I guess Geroge sneaks up on us, a little bit at a time; or maybe it is just consumerism. Right now my son loves to open any toy given to him as a present, regardless of size. At the optometrist's the other day my son was incredible for the doctor, and she was so impressed with his poise she said he could pick two toys from the toy drawer. His face lit up and I don't think he could have been any more elated. It didn't matter that they were small simple toys, he didn't exam the quality or the brand. He just saw new toys he didn't have and they were great; great because he got to play with something new. Play with them he did too, with all his imagination and inventiveness he could. I loved to watch him light up and think of things to do with the ball and car. At some point though we as people will start to say to each other, "Dude, it's just a cheap ball and car, it's nothing to get excited about."
Thankfully we as a society have decided that children should not be subjected to this cruel plight, but kids pick up on it eventually and soon enough another's happiness doesn't matter and it is "okay" to minimize someones simple pleasures.
I think it is just that too, enjoying simple pleasures. Kids have an innate ability to jump whole heartedly into life's opportunities. That is refreshing. I know many friends who move away from Southern California who crave an In N Out Hamburger more than anything upon their return. If you watch them take their first bite, close there eyes and really enjoy that moment of satisfaction they become a kid, up until some sarcastic "older" person says "It's just a burger." It is almost as if we lose the right to really enjoy things, because when someone does I think it makes the rest of us jealous that we don't have the same passion for life's moments that they do, so it's better to bring them back to our status quo.
I don't know when that pizazz for life's individual moments fade, and I really hope I am not the one to put out my children's unabashed zest for simple pleasures...I wish I could stop anyone from taking that away from them.
I don't know when that goes away.
I knew a guy in college, let's call him George, George never seemed to make plans. George always managed to have plans mind you, but he never committed. After a while I decided Geroge wanted to know what was better out there, so as to not commit in case a better deal came. I think George was an extreme case of what happens as we grow up, but George did what we most of us eventually do, and I think what most of us do to others. We seem to decide that you can't get too up for something, enjoy a sandwich too much, or dinner, or a day at the park. If you seem to have too much enthusiasm it scares people. People become George to some degree.
I try very hard to be a happy person, respond with a positive perspective, and walk with a little joy in my life. But I hear from people after I respond with a resounding "Doing great!", "Woah try a little less coffee in the morning there." As if I there isn't anything to be that happy about. That "child" innocence becomes taboo when you age, and you really don't have to be an adult to have it happen, plenty of kids will start the attitude against happiness long before they pay rent and bills.
I guess Geroge sneaks up on us, a little bit at a time; or maybe it is just consumerism. Right now my son loves to open any toy given to him as a present, regardless of size. At the optometrist's the other day my son was incredible for the doctor, and she was so impressed with his poise she said he could pick two toys from the toy drawer. His face lit up and I don't think he could have been any more elated. It didn't matter that they were small simple toys, he didn't exam the quality or the brand. He just saw new toys he didn't have and they were great; great because he got to play with something new. Play with them he did too, with all his imagination and inventiveness he could. I loved to watch him light up and think of things to do with the ball and car. At some point though we as people will start to say to each other, "Dude, it's just a cheap ball and car, it's nothing to get excited about."
Thankfully we as a society have decided that children should not be subjected to this cruel plight, but kids pick up on it eventually and soon enough another's happiness doesn't matter and it is "okay" to minimize someones simple pleasures.
I think it is just that too, enjoying simple pleasures. Kids have an innate ability to jump whole heartedly into life's opportunities. That is refreshing. I know many friends who move away from Southern California who crave an In N Out Hamburger more than anything upon their return. If you watch them take their first bite, close there eyes and really enjoy that moment of satisfaction they become a kid, up until some sarcastic "older" person says "It's just a burger." It is almost as if we lose the right to really enjoy things, because when someone does I think it makes the rest of us jealous that we don't have the same passion for life's moments that they do, so it's better to bring them back to our status quo.
I don't know when that pizazz for life's individual moments fade, and I really hope I am not the one to put out my children's unabashed zest for simple pleasures...I wish I could stop anyone from taking that away from them.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Lego Part 1
Raising kids, whether dealing with the nuance of seeing one's own blood, the quirks over jackets/pants/shorts or rain boots, or even just getting a hair cut dressed as a Spiderman can often baffle, and frustrate me. Occasionally God knows you need something you just "get" from day one with your child, and 3.5 years into my parenting, I was lobbed a soft ball by the Big Guy.
Lego.
I was a Lego nut as a kid, and for whatever reason I got rid of them all, more likely my mom got rid of them when she moved and me the idiot college student didn't grab them before that. But here I am 15-20 years removed from some of my finer building adventures as a kid and my 3.5 year old is jumping head first into construction.
See I never thought he quite got the building gene, he was ambivalent about mega blocks, and Duplo didn't really do it for him either. To be honest building much of anything never really appealed to him. But something happened last Christmas. He was asking Santa for one thing and one thing only each and every day from Santa "I want Star Wars Legos"
I was sorta at a loss, see I love Lego, and I love Star Wars, but my son last Christmas wasn't even 3, could he even build with the blocks...I didn't want to just "impose" my interests on him, I really wanted to resist, but I bought him a small set, mostly because it had 4 storm troopers. The present was a flop for all intensive purposes, but he loved it. See without my help he couldn't build anything, and the mini-figures, while cool could frustrate him immensely because he couldn't put the blaster or any accessory for that matter in the guys hands.
So in order to build the model each time, or play with the guys he had to ask for my help, and I thought this made it a poorly timed gift. Without fail though he would ask me to pull out the Legos and play with him.
We made it clear his 18 month old brother had to be asleep, but we would play Legos together and he would ask for my help to build, and I would teach him to read the directions and put the guys together like he wanted and he would play much the same way I would play as a child. Little voices, dramatic falls, blaster sounds, it was like I was flashing back to my child hood. I know that I very often was too "hard" on him while playing, focusing on building the set, following the directions, but kids have a funny way of blowing off their parents and my son is no exception, he ignores my bad recommendations with ease; thank God.
Looking back almost exactly one year ago, I can honestly say the timing couldn't have been better. The toy while above his age was an activity he loved, but one that required my assistance, and now he is almost four, and can play for ages without me. I love this independence, but I can think of a few times sitting with him, helping build and watch his imagination run knowing I was witnessing a miracle, a spark light a fire. I am blessed to have had that time because as I write this now, his desire to get out the Legos revolves less and less about me sitting with him, and far more about the toy and playing.
I'm glad I didn't just put them up for a year.
Lego.
I was a Lego nut as a kid, and for whatever reason I got rid of them all, more likely my mom got rid of them when she moved and me the idiot college student didn't grab them before that. But here I am 15-20 years removed from some of my finer building adventures as a kid and my 3.5 year old is jumping head first into construction.
See I never thought he quite got the building gene, he was ambivalent about mega blocks, and Duplo didn't really do it for him either. To be honest building much of anything never really appealed to him. But something happened last Christmas. He was asking Santa for one thing and one thing only each and every day from Santa "I want Star Wars Legos"
I was sorta at a loss, see I love Lego, and I love Star Wars, but my son last Christmas wasn't even 3, could he even build with the blocks...I didn't want to just "impose" my interests on him, I really wanted to resist, but I bought him a small set, mostly because it had 4 storm troopers. The present was a flop for all intensive purposes, but he loved it. See without my help he couldn't build anything, and the mini-figures, while cool could frustrate him immensely because he couldn't put the blaster or any accessory for that matter in the guys hands.
So in order to build the model each time, or play with the guys he had to ask for my help, and I thought this made it a poorly timed gift. Without fail though he would ask me to pull out the Legos and play with him.
We made it clear his 18 month old brother had to be asleep, but we would play Legos together and he would ask for my help to build, and I would teach him to read the directions and put the guys together like he wanted and he would play much the same way I would play as a child. Little voices, dramatic falls, blaster sounds, it was like I was flashing back to my child hood. I know that I very often was too "hard" on him while playing, focusing on building the set, following the directions, but kids have a funny way of blowing off their parents and my son is no exception, he ignores my bad recommendations with ease; thank God.
Looking back almost exactly one year ago, I can honestly say the timing couldn't have been better. The toy while above his age was an activity he loved, but one that required my assistance, and now he is almost four, and can play for ages without me. I love this independence, but I can think of a few times sitting with him, helping build and watch his imagination run knowing I was witnessing a miracle, a spark light a fire. I am blessed to have had that time because as I write this now, his desire to get out the Legos revolves less and less about me sitting with him, and far more about the toy and playing.
I'm glad I didn't just put them up for a year.
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