The new battle: Mom vs lego… One woman against 17,000 very small building bits. Or between me, 17000 small building bits and one obstinate 2.5 year old (lego bricks are being deposited into the AC vents at an alarming rate).
You would think a scattered, ADHD, paper pile-loving brain like mine would be more free and groovy about a mountain of legos. Well, you’d be wrong.
Seeing all that uninhibited consorting between different lego pieces makes me apoplectic. Plane pieces mixed with car pieces? Police lights mating with storm troopers? It is an affront to methodical building. How can one even begin to create a star rocket if one has to search relentlessly for a red, 2×6 lego? No seriously, tell me since I’m the only person in this house who can’t figure it out.
I re-purposed a plastic, 3-drawer organizer thingy from the basement. After sorting the aforementioned 17,000 bits– oh megablocks, how I miss you!– by complimentary color groupings into separate drawers, I remembered why Mr Plastic Drawer thing was under utilized in the basement to begin with. Apparently it’s maximum drawer capacity is 3 rolls of magnetic strip tape, a deck of Uno cards, and the framed picture of my father holding a giant fish. Anything heavier and the the drawers pop off their track, rendering them unusable.
I’m not going to survive the lego phase. And, dammit, those things hurt like a mo-fo when you step on them barefoot. Maybe my OCD need to organize by size, shape, and color will kill the joy Zach feels for them? Or– better yet– it will kill his desire to include me in lego play.
However, assuming that the opposite happens, and my refusal just fuels his enthusiasm, please tell me there is some sort of happy place between obsessive sorting of legos, and that pile of crap living in various places around my house?
Lie to me if you need to, I’m okay with that today.