Brothers, Blocks and Mixed-Age Play

My four-year-old son was playing on the floor with my nine-month-old. On this particular afternoon, he had made peace with the fact that his baby brother was intent on knocking down his block towers. Instead of railing against it, he had turned it into a game.

He would build a tower and the baby would come and knock it over.

Sounds simple enough.

But as I watched this game unfold, I began to see this black-and-white movie turn technicolour. There was more to it than I thought.

I watched my preschooler perform the trial-and-error necessary to make the game work. At first, he built the tower too far away from his baby brother, who didn't notice it teetering there on the other side of the room. Next, he built it too close, so that it was knocked over before it had even earned the name 'tower'.

I watched him shuffle across the floor on all fours, equal parts following and dodging the baby crawling around the living room; anticipating where he would be in about twenty seconds, and so where he should lay the foundations.

I watched him build a tower too high, with the heavier blocks on top. I watched it come crashing down on the baby's head. I watched the trembling lower lip. I watched the big brother start to put the heavier blocks down the bottom, and the smaller blocks on top.

I watched the way he turned his back on the baby, careful not to get his attention too soon. I watched the way he turned towards him, his eyes wide, his face beckoning, his tone high and light. "Come on! Come and knock over my tower!"

I watched how their eyes locked across the room, and though they didn't yet share a language, they began to understand each other. I watched the baby's ears prick up at the sound of his brother's voice. I saw his eyes sparkle, and his little arms and legs propel him across the room towards the tower.

I watched the way the baby looked at his big brother when the tower came down. A look that meant, "Was that alright? Did I do the right thing?" And I watched the reassuring look, the pat on the back, the joy exuding from his big brother. They both laughed.

It was part experiment, part dance.

I could almost see the neurons firing; I could certainly feel the love growing.

Could this game have come about between two four-year-olds, or two nine-month-olds? It was their differences that made this game fun, made it a challenge, and made it possible. Two brothers, teaching each other and learning together.