Toys, and the Boys

part of Holistic Mama's life up close series

Lately I've been upset over the violent play, over the constant good-guy, bad-guy stuff, especially hearing it coming from my youngest, Mica, who just turned four.

When Orlando was four, he didn't even know guns existed, or good guys and bad guys for that matter. And we certainly didn't have any toys that had guns or story lines that included them.

{Though, you might remember, things changed by the time Orlando was four-and-a-half, when he received a mega-dose of Godzilla, thanks to an iPhone and my husband (ahem).}

But a couple of weeks ago, I realized that I needed a way to accept the irritation, and I remembered what I did back then, which was really the only thing I knew how to do: Fret and worry about the violence, and then get in there and play.

As in, "Oh, Godzilla, why are you trampling my house?"

As in, "Hey, Godzilla, when you shine your x-ray eyes in my room while I'm sleeping, I feel annoyed and angry because I really have a need for rest. Would you be willing to shine those x-ray eyes somewhere else for a while?"

(Turns out Godzilla wasn't willing, and our eventual solution involved my character getting some thicker shades on his windows.)

Now, amidst two boys and more toys and more stories, I'm remembering this... this experience of playing something we call "cuddle time," which translates into Mama Is Here With Us, Playing. This isn't the exuberant, over-the-top, let's play! vibe. This is more of a hands-off, head-on approach.

I come and be near.

And what I find now is both boys, driving their matchbox cars all over the coffee table, and some of the cars are "bad guys" and some are "good guys." I wonder aloud why the bad cars are bad and Mica answers because they are stealing things from people.

And then it goes on from there, about why they might be stealing and I say they might not understand the consequences of their actions or maybe they lost their job or maybe it was theirs to begin with, and Orlando says, "Yeah, and a witch put a spell on them and we have to find her and get the spell taken away," and then we fly to the mountains (the kitchen counter) and find a witch, who is regal and strong and kind, and takes the spell away, bestowing upon the "bad" car the return of his own true, and good, nature. (Can you tell who played the witch?)

It's hard to write about these things... to capture the mood. There's an energy we tap into when we play this way, a flow between us, things that will work and things that won't. The kids respond to certain things, ignore others, or flat-out correct me if need me. There is generally an eagerness from the kids, as they listen to what I'm saying, and then they expand on it or ask me to do it again (and again), though I mostly take a passive stance, popping in and out of the play that they mostly direct.

Playing like this is so much more fun than feeling irritated and upset about all the violence and conflict. Playing like this is where we find reconciliation and forgiveness and magic and understanding...

Beyond our ideas of right-doing and wrong-doing,

there is a field. I'll meet you there.

When the soul lies down in that grass,

the world is too full to talk about.

Ideas, language, even the phrase 'each other'

doesn't make sense any more.

~ Rumi ~

*  ~ * ~ *

You can read about me playing Godzilla in this way with Orlando here. The post includes the description of a character he named The Guy Who Helps. And photos!