Lego was conquering Europe in the seventies, so I was not much surprised that I found myself an observing participant in similar lego-playing scenes in different houses with different people within only a few weeks. What was surprising to me, being raised in Montessorian ways, was how bad smelling whiffs can also be followed to learn from.
The mums are using a round robin scheme of hosting lunch for a small group of kids from my school.
A boy, the little brother of a lunch buddy, is playing with lego. He comes at a point where his design is hard or seemingly impossible to make. He seems to display feelings of frustration. The noises he makes, the tension in his body, the frown … The image of what he desired to build and what appears from his efforts do not match. It is relatively easy to solve. So I sit there quietly on the couch, curious as to what his next move will be, and his mum comes in. She too hears the noises. She responds with uplifting, encouraging noises. He finds a solution 5 minutes later. We cheer in unison (without overdoing it, after all, it was relatively easy to solve)!
A little girl is playing with lego. She is at a similar “imagination and reality mismatch” point. Noises. Frustration. The building is awesome, and the mismatch is hard to miss and relatively easy to solve. Her mum responds differently. She sees the mismatch, squats down, takes it out of her hands and shows her a solution.
I remember smelling a whiff of something (it smelled similar to when my toy cars were stolen by a bully in the sandbox) and it was slightly annoying. Annoying enough to set a “marker” to not ignore related information and learn more about these odd “theft patterns”.