Gente Pequeno

Isn't he so busy? Let's pretend this floor has been mopped sometime in August, shall we? That would be great.







When I cleaned out the toy room, there were a few things that went to charity that I really hesitated about. Things like a Little People garage, or the Little People farm.

Mostly, it gave me pause because I still remember playing with, and loving to death, all my Little People and their wee little lives. The dad was always "Frank", which must have represented the manliest of manly names in my mind.

Did you know, by the way, that Tommy was almost named "Stan"? I would not lie to you. And when I say "almost" I obviously mean "no way in hell", but my husband was dead set on it. We were told in my 5th month of pregnancy, in no uncertain terms, that we were having a girl, so all boy-name-discussions were tabled. Thankfully, in the aftermath of delivering a boy (the shock of which caused my mother to argue with the doctor that it was a girl. Ahem) everybody was too discombobulated to remember any of the names on our original list. Which means Tommy got the first name that Erik blurted out. You're welcome, son.

But the truth is, as much as both my boys love to play with action figures and dolls, they really never bothered with any of the sets. I was all about rearranging furniture and faithfully recreating the domestic model of my own parents' marriage, but my kids would rather use blocks to make lookout towers and castles with moats. Everybody is always 'falling back' or 'moving out' and all barked commands are met with a hardy, "yes, sir!!" and so, reluctantly, I passed on the farm and house. (My own dollhouse, so you can sleep tonight, remains in tact in my bedroom.)

I kept a basket of animals, though, and Scotty got them out and was asking about where they could live. I suggested that we get the tub of blocks and make a barn, or a corral. He loved this idea! And that's how we spent an afternoon. With him yipping at me to 'make a door! close the door! where's the door!' and with me scrambling around looking for duplos.

I think this is my favorite part of the new arrangement; this bit of creativity, of re-discovering interesting playthings that may have been long-buried or forgotten among the outgrown clutter of the toy room. Plus, that they have been bringing their work into the main living area. I don't keep toys in the living room or kitchen. Wait. I'm lying. There is a rocking horse in the living room. But mostly, we try to keep it clear, as we have a small house. It's just the one big room, really, and so I encourage them to bring in a bucket of legos or animals, and then at the end of the day, we swoop it all back into buckets and slide it back under their beds.

Except this has been in the middle of the eating nook since Saturday. Everytime I try to sneak some of it back into the boxes, Scotty points at me and accuses me of masterminding the mass destruction of his childhood.

Good times.