The Power of Playing

I have to admit, I don’t always feel like I’m very good at playing with my daughter (let’s call her S). It may sound shocking, or it may not, I don’t know.

One part of it is that I’m an introvert, which means I love love love LOVE spending time alone, and while I think S is also an introvert, she also craves almost constant one-on-one time, which sometimes makes me feel crazy. Sometimes I just want to tell her, “Sweetie, Mommy loves you with her WHOLE heart, but sometimes she needs to take a break!”

Another big part is that my brain is constantly telling me, “You gotta stay busy, this house is a mess, what do you think you’re doing, stopping to play? You haven’t gotten anything done today!” Because my brain is annoying that way; it just focuses on how “productive” I am and it tries to put me down with how much stuff I haven’t done.

The last part that is so simple that I almost didn’t even think of it is that I’m 28.75(ish 😄) years older than my daughter, and it’s been a long time since I’ve been a child and just lived to play. My brain and her brain are in such different places from each other.

BUT. When we start playing together- really truly, both of us fully present and engaged in it- it enriches both my life and hers.

For her, it’s special time spent bonding with her Mommy, it’s educational, it’s entertaining, it’s teaching social connection, it’s challenging. It’s simply enriching and growing her brain.

For me, it’s special time bonding with her too, but it’s also a chance for me to unwind and de-stress, to “stop and smell the roses” and remember the simpler things in life, and to go back to basic creative skills (like using crayons on a big sheet of blank paper, or setting up a makeshift “coffee shop” in her room where there was only an empty corner, or suddenly playing some game we made up on the spot).

Playing with S gives my adult brain a chance to go on a mini vacation every now and then. It forces me to think differently, and I know I need that sometimes.

Today she curled up under a laundry basket, and I told her she looked like a cute little turtle in a shell. She thought that was just great, and she started a silly little game where she would jump out of her shell and go, “surprise you, Mom!” And of course I played the part and was dramatically surprised every single time (haha). She giggled so much, for about 10 minutes straight, that she kept going red in the face.

There are many times when I don’t feel like stopping what I’m doing to play, but hearing her delighted little squeals and giggles and belly laughs, and seeing the joy she gets out of such simple things, brings me joy. And who doesn’t need a little joy?