Jungle Jumps and Glances: How My Son’s Lego Car Moment Became a Lesson in Secure Attachment
Last weekend, my son and I took a much-needed trip to Legoland. Between the laughter, the colorful chaos, and the smell of soft pretzels, something powerful unfolded. It wasn’t just play. It was a masterclass in secure attachment, tucked inside a few seconds at the Jungle Jump slide.
He had just tested out his LEGO race car on the track. I watched him position it, let it go, and hold his breath as it zipped down the ramp, catching speed like it had something to prove. It landed perfectly. I mean, if I were judging, 10 out of 10, no notes.
But the real moment wasn’t the launch. It was what came next.
He immediately turned to look at me. Not for instructions. Not for praise. Just a quick glance that said, “Did you see that, Mommy?” Like he needed to know I had witnessed it. That we were in it together.
That’s the moment that hit me.
Because that glance, that instinct to seek my face after doing something bold, is how children confirm safety. It’s not always words. It’s not “Good job” or “I’m proud of you.” Sometimes, it's just a look. A check-in. A subtle but powerful reach for co-regulation.
And then came another layer of it. Right after that victorious look, I saw a flash of urgency in his eyes. His car—clearly the coolest one on the track—was sitting at the end of the slide and I could feel him thinking, “I better grab it before someone else does.” There was pride in his creation. A protective energy. He had made something, tested it, and now wanted to hold onto it.
This wasn’t just about a toy.
It was about agency, autonomy, and belonging. And the moment he turned to me first? That was about attachment.
What This Teaches Us About Secure Attachment
Children don’t need perfect parents. They need present ones. Ones who can say with their eyes, “I see you,” even in a room full of noise.
Moments like this remind me how often secure attachment is built not during the big, heart-to-hearts, but in the in-between. It’s in how we bear witness. How we hold space. How we don’t rush their joy or their urgency but simply mirror back that they matter.
Attachment is built in safety. And safety is built in a thousand small, ordinary moments.
If You're a Parent Who's Wondering...
“Am I doing enough?” or “Why does my child need me to watch everything they do?” Let me offer this—your presence is shaping their nervous system. Your steady gaze in moments of joy or uncertainty is wiring their sense of self.
That Lego ramp was a racetrack, sure. But it was also a stage. And my son needed me to be in the audience. Not clapping loudly, but simply there.
Connect This to Your Own Parenting Journey
If you're noticing these small but mighty moments in your home—whether it’s a glance, a pause, or a need to be seen—you’re already doing meaningful attachment work. Want to deepen it? Check out the Attachment Style Makeover Workbook for guided practices and insights you can actually apply in real life.
You can also learn more about how I support parents like you through attachment-informed therapy, whether you're navigating childhood wounds, parenting fatigue, or just trying to show up better without losing yourself.
