Our sons are currently obsessed with super heroes: Buzz Lightyear, Spiderman, Superman and Batman. Z. loves dressing up as Buzz and Spiderman and his little brother imitates everything he does but he is drawn to Zurg Buzz Lightyear's nemisis (yin to his brother's yang). They laser beam each other or us with their upheld fists, they use everything as swords and most recently started constructing guns from legos and construction blocks - much to my dismay. I didn't understand how they even knew what a gun looked like but they do see/ play with toy guns at our friend's house who has an older son and we let them watch The Incredibles which also I soon realised features guns.
It was a bit of a shock and relief in a way, therefore to see my older son interested in a box full of my old dolls my mother unearthed in the move the other day. I was also relieved that my husband allowed him to play with them - with men and dolls, you never know. Z. has already gotten bored with them and moved onto the wooden blocks my family has collected from three generations. One block has my cousin's? Uncle's? Initials carved into it. S. has helped the boys construct cities and brick ovens and cathedrals with them.
But those days Z. was playing with the dolls I overheard him creating elaborate story lines not dissimilar to our own mundane days. S. even took out a few of the Star Trek Dolls and put them up on a shelf thinking maybe they were collector's items (not these out of the box ones, they've been through too much) and Z. asked if I could take down one specifically (the one with the beard like S.) as he wanted him as the Daddy.
It feels very healthy to hear him go through different life scenarios with these dolls and his toys in general - its something I used to do and why I love writing - telling stories, rewriting stories, confronting challenges using my imagination. Play and then later writing, poetry, fiction, journal writing was a huge part of my understanding the world and my place in it, I hope the same will hold true for my children.
It was a bit of a shock and relief in a way, therefore to see my older son interested in a box full of my old dolls my mother unearthed in the move the other day. I was also relieved that my husband allowed him to play with them - with men and dolls, you never know. Z. has already gotten bored with them and moved onto the wooden blocks my family has collected from three generations. One block has my cousin's? Uncle's? Initials carved into it. S. has helped the boys construct cities and brick ovens and cathedrals with them.
But those days Z. was playing with the dolls I overheard him creating elaborate story lines not dissimilar to our own mundane days. S. even took out a few of the Star Trek Dolls and put them up on a shelf thinking maybe they were collector's items (not these out of the box ones, they've been through too much) and Z. asked if I could take down one specifically (the one with the beard like S.) as he wanted him as the Daddy.
It feels very healthy to hear him go through different life scenarios with these dolls and his toys in general - its something I used to do and why I love writing - telling stories, rewriting stories, confronting challenges using my imagination. Play and then later writing, poetry, fiction, journal writing was a huge part of my understanding the world and my place in it, I hope the same will hold true for my children.
