I’ve never liked LEGO very much. Probably because building something from scratch is terribly difficult, and it doesn’t come naturally to me.
Much like parenting young children. Especially Sam.
If you don’t know, he’s the one on the left. The one whose picture is eternally blurry because he never stops moving. The one who is currently torturing me with a combination of sleep deprivation, a refusal to listen, and a fundamental commitment to being as difficult as humanly possible.
Recently, Sam become a bedtime terrorist. For about a week, he completely regressed in his sleeping habits and began torturing us to the point of absurdity.
One day he simply refused to go to bed. The antics would start about half an hour before his bedtime, which is when I get home from work. Lucky me. I’d walk in the door and my presence would serve as an internal alarm that he goes to bed soon, meaning he began to equate my presence with misery and impending doom.
He screamed. He threw things. He hit people. He bit people. All this while we’re trying to get the baby to sleep and oh yeah, I forgot to mention, he shares a room with his older brother. That means letting him scream means no one else gets sleep either, which isn’t fair. He soon realized this and held us hostage.
He requires three stories — one involving a castle, one involving a cheetah, and the final one involving his brothers, a cheetah, and a castle. Then he needs three songs — Shake It Off by Taylor Swift, Down by the Old Mill Stream, and Share the Darkness by the Saw Doctors.
And his newest addition is a fear of monsters, which required some creative maneuvering on our part.
I came up with magic monster dust which is kept hidden in his closet, and is an invisible dust coated over the entire room that keeps monsters at bay. But that wasn’t enough protection for him. So MJ concocted a Monster Spray (lavender, water, and sparkly stars in a spray bottle) we spray throughout the room before we leave.
If it sounds exhausting, that’s because it is. Also, none of it really worked.
After a week of screaming, banging the door, kicking the walls, and keeping us all up all hours of the night, I lost it. I hit that dangerous breaking point all parents know and fear. The one where your patience, kindness, logic, sanity, and reason instantly evaporate, leaving you only with desperation and white hot rage.
It was in this state I burst through Sam’s door, picked him up, put him on the bed, and read him the riot act. I told him he was slowly killing us, I screamed that I couldn’t stand him anymore, and I roared at him that he was a horrible child. It all just came pouring out in an ill-advised instant of insane sleep deprivation and frustration, in which I lost my self-control and did something I’m ashamed of.
Sam, with his lip trembling, looked shocked as he recoiled. He tearfully reached for something on his dresser and then hit me right in the heart.
“Dada, you monster,” he said, as he sprayed me with the water bottle.
I cried and hugged him and apologized. I hate getting that mad at my kids, and even though I know it happens to all of us it still sucks. And I’m going to try my best not to get to that point again.
I’m going to try to take a lesson from LEGO, and be a builder instead of someone who just tears down when frustrated. I’m going to heed the lessons Sam learns when watching LEGO Friends on Netflix — friendship, teamwork, camaraderie instead of selfishness and divisiveness. I’m going to be like the characters Will loves from LEGO Bionicle, who band together to protect Okoto Island.
Parenting is all about trying to succeed more than you fail, while building kids up from scratch with little to no directions. And while we all occasionally lose our minds when we step on unseen LEGO pieces with bare feet, it’s all about doing your best to have more wins than losses.
It’s time to focus on building.
Check out these two great shows on Netflix: