Building More Than Pirate Ships

I had found my solution to the doldrums--curling up on my bed on a Sunday afternoon and losing myself in my favorite Netflix show. The boys were content watching TV (so I thought) and, as my I slowly drifted off into my own little world, my door opened and there stood my wide-eyed seven-year old child.

"Will you play Legos with me, Mama?"

Nooooooooooo my inside self screamed from a deep, selfish place.

"Um, do you mind if Mama finishes her show and then we'll play?"

"OK, Mommy."

Guilt. That sweet little voice. They're only young once. Trace Adkin's voice blaring from the radio in my head, "You're gonna miss this....you're gonna want this back..."

Oh for Pete's sake I think to myself as I begrudgingly peel myself off the bed and walk upstairs. The show can always wait, I guess.

"Lego time!," I announce in my best faux-enthusiastic voice as I reached the entrance to his bedroom.

Just the look of excitement on his face was enough to make me want to crawl under a rock for being so self-absorbed just a few minutes before.

"Yay! OK, here is the plane I've been working on and I really need some help making it look nice. OK, Mommy? OK?"

That sweet little voice.

I stretched out on my tummy as he poured the box of Legos out in front of me--a cascade of colorful squares, Lego-man body parts and the occasional miniature Lego weapon.

That's when it began. All of the thoughts of what I was "missing out" on by giving up my "me" time dissipated as I carefully constructed gun turrets, outfitted my pilot with the latest in Lego head gear and debated whether or not the sides of my plane were even. I was having a ball.

Pretty soon, my thirteen-year old came in, plopped down and said "You can go if you want to. I'll help him. I'm sure you're not having that much fun." With a sly smile I replied, "There's no place I'd rather be." And that statement couldn't have been truer.

I mean, I'm sure the lead characters of my Netflix drama are somewhere tapping their foot waiting on me to return. But they can wait. Because this afternoon the "me" time I thought I so desperately needed was actually me, my boys and a mixed-up, scattered pile of little colorful pieces of plastic.

And you know what? I couldn't have been happier.

My building partner

Will he do it? We Emmett run down these innocent people just lying there minding their own business???

My version of a forklift driver :)

Don't mess with the one-armed Lego lady! She's one tough cookie!

The captain of our plane, pirate ship-thingy.

The full-sized view of our ever-so-impressive construction.

And, perhaps my favorite pic of all... two brothers playing quietly in the soft sunlight of a Sunday afternoon. Pretty soon, the six years age difference between them will be a chasm. But, for now, Legos unite them and it's a sweet memory indeed.