Lego play in a weekend night

Tonight around 9pm, Taikun called me into the playroom: “Papa lai di chia” (papa come here: note: “di” redundant). He seemed to be away from his Lego for a while—at least with me. To be his company, I seated myself besides him on the plastic mattress.

There was already a three-floor building completed on the green building plate. I asked “ chit-ê chhù si  siáⁿ-mih-lan  khí e?” (who build this house?) He responded, “Mama.” This building was very well designed and built, with each floor a small figurine inside. The roof was a slant one. Also, there was a staircase embracing the entire building like a belt. I guessed I didn’t have such a patience for such a elaborated work.

He first verbalized some aligned cube in rows on the building mattress as “ho-su” (hose), his long-time fascination. He was excited and immersed in it.

Then he started to build a project consisting of towers. He stacked two towers alternatively —one cube piece for one tower at a time, then another piece for the second tower. In gradual turns he heightened two towers.  During the construction he counted for pieces used in Taiwanese. Now he could count well from one to twenty, albeit some numbers skipped (say jumping from ten to twelve without mentioning eleven). After twenty, the sequence became erratic and fragmented. I am basically content of his development-- though I guessed he picked this counting skill during discipline time-out, when I counted these numbered aside him.

He finally built a tower to the extent that he couldn’t proceed anymore since it was out of his hand reach. Then he climbed to the table for an extended reach, adding additional cube pieces to the tower. After having mounted on the table, he turned around to check my reaction with his mischievous grin—a look that we can identify he is about to do something bad.  (Normally we don’t allow him get on the table, but this time I am making an exception as the situation requiring it.) 

Finally, the tower grew to the height he couldn’t work on any more [even he was already standing on the table], and he asked me to lift him up further. I did. He then finished the tower the several pieces left. Unfortunately the tower only lasted for one more minute until he inadvertently touched it. As the tower collapsed, “Wow” he exclaimed and giggled aloud. Though I then suggested to “siu-lí” (repair/ rebuild) it, he didn’t responded. I guessed he needed to be a bit older to get the clue to be an engineer.

Then the theme shifted to his beloved themes---gas station and car wash. He loved some unique building pieces--A piece was designed to represent the filling machine, with an elastic tube, representing the filling hose, which could be attached to the machine. He then imagined getting  the car washed. He used a reel piece (with a thread on it) as a water hose, to “wash” a yellow toy car thoroughly—upside down, including the chassis. It’s also verbalized, with “ sé sé sé…” (wash wash wash…) lasting for two minutes when he finished the process.  After I asked him “Ah chit-má sé ho beh?” (then, finished washing now?) He replied, “sé ho-a” (washing done.)  Then he drove the car to fill the gas, with verbalization “ga ga ga ga…” (fill fill fill..). It’s really fun to see the work undergoing with his words--- no wonder his school teachers described him as a verbal kid, if not chatty.

Then, he picked some randomly assembled work and flew them to the air, pretending it as a ti̍t-seng-ki (helicopter), a word I taught him long time ago. I felt surprised that he still remembered this word. I then playfully pick up some random pieces to “air battle” with this little imaginary boy. He was very excited, laughing out loud.  He was so happy.

He then switched the attention to small figurines and verbalized to play with them in a park, “ khì-kong-hn̂g”. I  proposed to build a swing and slide. I turned the building plate to another direction to empty out a space for him. He was serious, pondering how to build, “ án-chóaⁿ ki”. This put me into an awkward situation since there was no piece resembling a swing or a slide set. While I was planning how to get back to him using some blocks with some imagination, A-po’s voice came to us from upstairs reminding us it’s already 10pm: the time to take the bath. I asked him to finish. Of course, he didn’t want to close, trying to keng  (push the limits about) it. To maximize the push, he quickly finished a work consisting of a pillar and several stacks of square cube pieces. Then he named: “Lih  khòaⁿ! ki-á-peng!” (Look! Ice bar!) Yes, it was a bona-fide one!  Then he satisfactorily hold his newly finished ki-á-peng upstairs to finish the ritual for the day: teeth-brushing, bath, and watch  má-lêng-chî  káu (potato dog). He loved it---holding it for viewing the potato dog with T, and with him in bed later.

He is learning by doing something with imagination. When being Taikun’s play company, I felt it was a déjà-vu, seeing another myself, many many years ago. [Or, as Chingtong shared with me before this is called “detachment” a common problem running in my family?]  
What I could recollect now is, I was playing a set of toy train in the apartment’s living room in Roosevelt Road, Taipei, where I spent my elementary school years until the 5th grade. I remembered so vividly that I purposefully padded some books below the tracks in order to make the set an “elevated” version, just like the subway systems in cities. I was so happy about the different grades of the tracks where my train could go—not just at-grade any more. Or, as I understand it today, I was excited about creating something different, a deviation from that toy’s standard way of play. Though Taikun hasn’t reach the age when I played with the elevated train, I believe the joy, especially the excitement of achievement of finishing a work based on own’ will coming with the play, is the same. 

You are growing, Taikun. At this last time available for play for a week with him, I am very happy. Thank you Taikun. 

I love you so much, so much, Taikun. You have a week’s school waiting for you tomorrow. Sleep well tonight. Have a great dream!