One of the many images I had of motherhood before I became a mother was of me, engrossed in endless hours of play with my little ones. Sitting on the floor in dressups having a teddy bear picnic, chasing them around the park with vigour. Making tents outside and having pretend camping trips. All of the things I loved to do with my many nieces and nephews. I would be the vibrant mum, full of playfulness and mirth. I would be the mum who delightedly dropped everything to play silly games with my whimsical children. Little did I know just how much there would be to drop and how chasing my children around the park would not be a game of tag but me trying to wrangle a screaming child back into the pram when it was hometime.
By the time Sonny got to around one and a half I remember feeling like a failure. I had zero energy or time to play these imaginary games for anything over 10 minutes at a time. These games also didn’t seem as fun as they used back when the kids I played them with were not mine. I saw the Instagram and Pinterest Mums setting up beautiful elaborate activities and games seated right next to their children, a joyful look of contentment on their unwrinkled faces. Why was this not me? Yes, I had hardly slept for 2 years and yes, I was pregnant again and exhausted. I was often on my own with the kids due to my husband’s work but maybe I was just not trying hard enough. Maybe I wasn’t as good at this mum thing as I thought I would be. Because don’t good mums play with their children?
Recently I have heard a phrase repeated by countless mothers I know and many that I don’t know via Substack or social media. It is said with hesitation and a lingering shame, worried about the judgment they may receive for such a thought: “I don’t like playing with my children and I feel so guilty about it.”
Yesterday, when I told a friend what I was writing about, she confided how she can’t stand playing diggers with her two-year-old. She felt so much guilt for this because she “should” want to. The more I thought about this and all the other mothers I have heard say a similar thing the more I have become convinced that we are confusing “playing” with connecting to our children.
This same mother cooks with her child, takes him on walks to see real-life diggers and reads to him at night. He is a part of her everyday life. I remember my own mum telling me that when she sat down to do some cutting out, she would sit me next to her with my mini scissors and scrap paper to cut out. She had things to do so she included me in them as best she could.
The word “Play” seems to have become more and more of a marketing word. Play-based, Play-centred, Connected-Play. These are phrases I see repeated over and over and they are almost always attached to selling something. Selling a course, selling an expensive game, or selling a certain lifestyle. The other day I had an ad pop up for an app in which you could set a reminder of when and what to play with your child throughout the day.
It makes me think that maybe there is a rather normal reason that the desire to play doesn’t come as naturally to me now that I am a parent, as it did when I was childless in my teens and twenties. And that maybe spending so much time learning and reminding ourselves how and when to play with our children is less about what they need and more to do with the fear of not being sufficient in what is currently deemed in vogue within the parenting sphere.
, the authority on all things play wrote a fantastic must-read article on the very topic of parent-child play. He discusses how the very notion of a parent playing on the floor with their child is a “uniquely modern, Western, wealthy cultural idea.” The reason why, he says, many parents don’t enjoy playing with their children is because they are adults, not children! While it is beautiful to have a playful spirit it’s not possible to get lost in a game of imaginary play with a 3-year-old because we are not 3 years old!“Our real obligation regarding our children’s play is not to be their playmates but to figure out ways, in this isolating world we have created, to bring our children into free, regular, prolonged contact with other children, where we can let them be, so they can make friends and play in all the ways that children, but not adults, are designed to play.” - Peter Gray
When I read his article for the first time I remember feeling all at once excited and completely relieved. I was not a lazy, un-fun mother after all. I was an adult with things to do, very important things like making sure my children had their physical and emotional needs met. I couldn’t spend a whole morning pretending to be a duck because I had to get the little one to sleep, make lunch or clean up the food the farmer had just purposely spilled all over the floor. But what I could do was have playdates. Go to parks, go to the library, be in places other children were so that my children would have opportunities to play with others who could give them the kind of play they needed. True play without any adult interference or underlying motives.
This isn’t to say I am not playful with my kids at times. I do really believe that it’s important and I will, if I have the energy, build a cubby for them or spend a few minutes here and there as horsey to please them. And their dad takes care of all their rough play needs of being thrown around in heart-stopping maneuvers, much to the boy's delight. Lately, Sonny has entered his Lego phase which was one of my big loves well into my teenage years, so when I have the time I can sit and build with him for hours. But I make it clear that we work on our projects (mostly some kind of speed boat or monster truck), side by side. Whenever he tries to entice me into building something with him, it very quickly turns into me doing everything wrong and then it’s not enjoyable for either of us. But as much as I can, I leave them to their own devices and see how long they can go without their game turning into a full-on brawl. Sometimes it’s five minutes, but more and more as they grow I am getting fifteen to twenty minutes before I have to step in and help them reset.
I am also still connecting with them in the tiny moments of the day even when I am not being playful. When they need cuddles from splitting their forehead open with a tambourine (happened yesterday) I am there. I am still spending time with them while I am making breakfast and the smallest is telling me about how the monkey came and stole his money (never happened) or when one wakes from a bad dream needing me.
We are mothers and we have things to do, this is normal. It is the people trying to sell us their programs and their “lifestyles” that try and convince us otherwise. The pure act of play is meant to be something enjoyable.
If you are not enjoying being a fire-breathing dragon that has to stay on the blue cushions and must not speak then maybe it’s time to drop the guilt and look at all the different ways in which you can connect with your child that are enjoyable for both of you.
I would love you to join the conversation. Comments below, or reply to this email.
What are your thoughts on play? Have you struggled with feeling guilted into play you don’t enjoy?
Other posts you may enjoy:
Thank you so much for writing this. It’s one of my biggest sources of guilt. What really gets me is my kids whining at me all day long...”mom, can you play?” I totally agree with the play-date strategy. I also think adults need time for their own play too, whatever that may be. More play is good, but playing dinosaurs or ice cream shop or saber tooth tiger is not my idea of play 😆
I’m very glad that there ended up being a ten year gap between my two. When my eldest was born there wasn’t quite this pressure yet — social media was in its infancy when he was. So when my youngest came around ten years later I knew I didn’t need most of this kind of thing because my eldest hadn’t.
The classes are particularly new. So with my first we attended the odd ‘mums & tots’ group in a church hall, the purpose of which was for mums to sit down and have a bit of adult conversation and a cup of tea while our babies were palmed off for twenty mins with a few second-hand toys. It wasn’t meant for the babies but for the mums. These kinds of thing usually cost about £1 for the session.
By the time my second came along, baby classes were big business. £5,£6, even £10 for some sessions. Messy play. Sensory play. Musical play. And so on. And _all_ aimed at the babies. Mums barely got chance to chat let alone have a brew. In one of the classes we were even discouraged from chatting as our babies needed us to be on the floor with them at all times. Lonelier, and expensive, for new mums, now.