I’m a terrible mother because the three words I loathe the most are: play with me, especially when strung together repeated and delivered in a whinny four year old voice.
I will go round after round and even let him win sometimes at Junior Scrabble, UNO and Connect Four, in fact I love games!
I will ask 20 questions, trying to figure out what he spies with his little blue eyes.
I will search high and low for gel food dye to add to shaving cream to smear all over the shower stall, bend and twist pipe cleaners, clean up glitter and tiny pieces of construction paper and attempt to draw anything he asks me to.
I will create a playlist of his favorite Top 40 hits and have a dance party in our living room.
I will spend hours at Disneyland, California Adventure, Knott’s Berry Farm, Sea World and Legoland with him by my side waiting patiently to go on each and every ride he desires.
I will push him on swings, play hide-and-seek and time him on his scooter as he makes loop after loop around the park.
I will load the car with sand toys, sunscreen and towels in order to to spend the afternoon at the beach building castles, hunting for shells and chasing seagulls.
I will take him to Target knowing full well I’ll be spending most of our trip in the toy aisle agonizing over Cars, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and other items he has, wants or needs.
I will learn all his favorite characters names and let him quiz me on them.
I will carefully pre-measure ingredients for him to add to bowls and let him try using the mixer on low so he can “help” me bake a cake.
I will pack his backpack with his beloved snacks and activities and take him on many trips to visit family in the Bay Area.
I will read him any of the dozens of books we own over and over all day long.
I will take him to the latest kids movie where we share the biggest bag of popcorn they sell.
I will send mothers I don’t know notes asking if their sons would enjoy coming to our home to spend time with my son.
I will make up silly songs, perform puppet shows with no real story lines and do just about anything to make Lucas smile or laugh.
There are tons of things I will do with my son and thoroughly enjoy, but playing with him is not one of them.
Pushing cars around the floor and having “races” is not fun for me.
I don’t know how to be a ninja and I hate holding toys or stuffed animals in my hand making them have conversations with one another.
It’s not that I feel silly or stupid, I’m just not good at pretending. I think maybe I was once… I loved playing with Barbies but not anymore and I feel guilty because I hear “play with me” A LOT!! And too many times my response is, “let’s go to the park!”.
Do you know how to play with your children? Please tell me I’m not alone in my guilt.