Digging in the LEGO bin

Quality time is tricky to identify because it can look like so many different things. 

Today, for Phoebe, it was making sure she got her morning "huggles" in. 

For Rachel it was making sure to go on a midday walk. 

For Alexander it was reading a chapter of a novel aloud before bed.

For Zoë it was getting to make dinner with Daddy.

For Miriam it was...surely something...checking in on her English project?

For FHE we all sat around and the kitchen table and looked up scriptures about remembering. Today was Remembrance Day and I forgot to do anything with the kids earlier in the day (the boys had doctor appointments this morning, so we did that), so we looked for things the scriptures ask us to remember and talked about the importance of not forgetting valuable lessons. That was some quality time right there. 

But perhaps my favourite little bit of quality time from today was following Benjamin down to the basement to look at how his LEGO entry for the Festival of Trees is coming along and then pawing through bin after bin of LEGO to find more and more white pieces for him to use so he doesn't have to dismantle another creation that's hogging all the white bricks. 

Technically you're supposed to enter your creation under the age of the oldest contributor. Benjamin was worried my "assistance" would disqualify him, but I assured him that having his mother look for certain bricks wasn't a meaningful contribution to the project at all—he's the one doing all the building!

Benjamin's LEGO creations are phenomenal. He's a bold and creative builder.

My creations are...

Well...let's just say they have their own bland distinct look.

So I spent about a half hour in the basement chatting with Benjamin and sorting LEGO and, honestly, it was lovely. Truth be told I enjoy digging through LEGO looking for bits and pieces, but I don't really take the time to do it very often. For some reason or another my duties typically lie elsewhere. But it was beautiful to get to spend that time with Benjamin and he seemed to appreciate it as well. 

There are times when I've wished we could "do more" than we've done for our kids because we certainly haven't been able to offer them anything extravagant very often. But I think it's possible that quality lies in the small and simple things—the walks and the talks, the chuckles and huggles—and that the big gestures—while great—don't matter all that much.