A bowl for a drum, a broom for a bass: nurturing imaginative play. (A Child's World).

Publication: Mothering

Publication Date: 01-NOV-02

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COPYRIGHT 2002 Mothering Magazine

Nicholas rummages through the kitchen, brandishing metal salad prongs. "Castanets!" he yells. "And," he adds, hoisting up an empty water-cooler jug, "a tuba!" During our three years together, we've been learning the language of inspiration. I see an old broom; he sees an upright bass. I see satellite dishes on top of buildings; he sees trumpet bells.

I give Nicholas 20 feet of purple beads, a Christmas-tree decoration. He sits at the top of our basement stairs and slowly releases the string from his hand, watching the shiny beads tumble to the platform below. "I'm making a waterfall," he explains, entranced in his rain-forest reverie.

Nicholas's friends have things, too. Three-year-old Jack owns dump trucks in 14 different sizes, a five-foot-tall playhouse, and the complete "Thomas the Tank Engine" set of trains, bridges, tunnels, and a play table. Ricky has three remote-controlled, jumbo fire engines with foot-long ladders and sirens that can be heard a block away. Justin has two bulldozers the size of cocker spaniels, a motorized crane, and a racing car big enough to get pulled over for a moving violation. Mark has enough Legos to build a lovely extension on a house. There's a part of me that wonders if my son wants what they have.

Last year, I bought Nicholas that toy fire engine he "really, really, really" wanted. Half of it lies at the bottom of a drawer. And the little green tractor? He uses it to barter for other toys at the playground sandbox, demonstrating the Universal Law of Attraction to Other Children's Stuff.

Each toy that has come through our front door has seen an intense but brief period of play. Each has collected dust. Some have been stashed away and rediscovered after several months. Often, Nicholas will dismantle a toy and create another from its parts. Sometimes a gift is entirely eclipsed by its wrapping: "Look, Mommy! It's a new toy called a Bouncy-Bounce!" he squeals, playing with a curly ribbon like a yo-yo. "And a cruise ship!" he declares, folding himself into the empty cardboard box. It's not that he is more excited about the ribbon than the gift, in a purely comparative sense; it's just that he's more excited about the playthings he...

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