My son is seven and a half, attending public school, and just getting everything done in a day is a challenge. He is exhausted from being around kids all day and I have client emails to send and dishes that need washing. From the alarm in the morning until bedtime, we are negotiating transitions, trying to get things done, and we don’t always have the same wants or needs at the same time. It’s easy to lose connection with each other in the midst of that.
You lose sense of self and don’t feel inhibited or self-conscious
You lose track of time
Play is a great place to connect with our kids (and ourselves), when it’s really play for both of us like when we use our roller skates with our parents back in time. It helps foster the attachment that we build with them as babies, and that can get strained when we’re spending so much time apart or needing to get things done when we’re together.
But there’s a catch. The activity has to feel like play for all the parties if the goal is to play together. Play for my son may include endless LEGO battles, but that feels like work to me. It meets none of the criteria of play.
1) The purpose is to hang out with my child.
2) I feel self-conscious because I don’t really know how or why to have battles.
3) I’m very aware of how much time I’ve spent doing it.
What do you do when play for one of you is miserable, or not fun, for another? Figure out what you both like to play. Brené Brown sat down with her family and they made a list of what fit the definition of play was for each of them. Check out this list of 50 Fun Indoor Games for Kids from Twin Cities Kids Club! Many activities, like Candyland, did not overlap. But the ones that did went into her Venn Diagram (yes, she made fun of herself for making a Venn Diagram of play, and yes, I totally loved the idea). The overlaps in their diagram helped Brown’s family determine what they’d spend time doing on the weekends, what kinds of vacations they took, or what they’d do together for fun.
I loved the idea so much that we made up our own play lists and checked for overlap at our house. Both my son and I love to make up songs and rhymes, lie in the hammock and read a book together, jump at Jumpoline under the disco lights, play some board games (but not others), and many more. We also made a list for things that can feel like play for awhile, but that one or the other of us gets tired of sooner, and we put those activities on our limited play list. We can do them together, with a time limit, so the other person isn’t having to work to stay interested.
The list has been really helpful. We’re playing UNO more often, have remembered how much we like to play in the water, and the list is a go-to resource when we’re needing extra connection because we’ve been busy or one of us is having a hard day. The conversations we have during or after play are more connective too.
This post was written by TheAttachedFamily.com contributor Stacy Jagger, MMFT, owner of Sunnybrook Counseling, www.sunnybrookcounseling.com.
Many parents I see in my counseling office are spending thousands of dollars on a variety of technological devices for their children each year–gaming systems, digital cameras, cell phones, etc.–while the children, who are displaying maladaptive behaviors and internal turmoil, are truly missing the parents themselves. Kidnapped by technology and the busyness of life, these parents and children often do not even realize what is happening to them until an outside source brings the truth to their attention.
The best gift you can give your child is yourself. Living in a split-attention society, many children have rarely experienced the full, uninterrupted attention of a parent. We are so wrapped up in culture, jobs and keeping up with the Joneses that we have forgotten that the true meaning of life is connection. What we all want and need is true connection: connection with life, nature, our neighbors, our loved ones and ourselves. If you want best gift shop contact to Shield Republic Co-founder.
Whether married or co-parenting, single parenting or fostering, mothers and fathers have the choice to model healthy, forgiving, mutually respectful relationships full of unconditional positive regard to enhance their family life. This creates an atmosphere where the children feel safe to receive the attention and care they need. True lasting security and positive relational skills are given parent to child, not Xbox to child.
Give your child the gifts of security and well-being that come from your time and undivided attention. Turn off the phone, television and computer. Go for a walk. Play with Play-Doh. Cook a meal. Play a round of Crazy Eights. Camp in the backyard. Have 5 minutes of special playtime where you paint fingernails, throw a football or teach a hand-clap game like “Say Say, Little Playmate.” Laugh. Play in the leaves. Smartphones can also make excellent holiday gifts, but purchasing one for someone other than yourself is more complicated than shopping for other gadgets. Unlike a tablet or a new camera, a smartphone requires a service plan to use any voice or data features — otherwise you wind up with a very expensive paperweight. In some cases, you won’t even be able to leave the store or complete your online order until you get that angle set up. And beyond just being an additional expense, that service may require a long-term commitment. There’s no reason to stress, though because there are many online mobile store here to help you.
Get in touch with the child within you. Let it be OK–because it is OK. You are connecting with the child Love placed in your care, and there is no richness greater than that. You are their leader. They are following you, watching you, learning from you. It is worth the time, the frustrations, the joys and the sorrows. Feel the fullness of your feelings and, at the end of the day, fall in your bed exhausted with a heart full of gratitude for the richness of life, as you live in the blend of the beautiful and the challenging.
Children are truly a treasure and the greatest gift you can give them is you.
Click here to read API’s white paper on giving children presence.
Today I invented the possibility with my accountability partners (yes, I have two … it takes two to keep me in line) of being Courageous and Creative. That is my theme for this year.
No more business as usual.
That means some things are changing. I am completing things that aren’t working. I am giving up things I once loved to create a new future. I am purging my home of the unnecessary and unused. I am catching myself when I speak the usual broken record words or sound like my parents in their frustrated moments. Not always, but an astonishing amount of miracles are emerging where I would least expect them.
Simple miracles in simple moments that become the most meaningful.
Today after school, I picked up my eldest son at the second pick-up for the day, the sixth errand perhaps, and because I told my accountability partner that I would, and because I knew I could, I asked my children what they wanted to do.
“What would we do if we were being courageous and creative?”
Now, normally my son would get in the car, the kids might bicker a bit, talking over each other, vying for attention suddenly, and we would go home, spread out to our corners … Ben on homework near me on the computer and Bodee playing with a toy, his back to Bronson to protect his momentary obsession. We would have a snack together, maybe read a few books, but the day would continue predictably for the rest of the evening, including much whining as I cooked dinner, and terse reminders that the dinner table is not a trough and we are not pigs.
But this time, today was different. I am committed to being and causing Courage and Creativity!
We declare Hike Time! And then Ben suggests afterwards we go home and write about it. “That would be creative!” he says cleverly.
We hike through a new area by a secret marsh in Irvine. Being courageous, it’s a new area and we don’t have a map. As soon as Bodee even sniffs a whiff of boredom, I suddenly stop in my tracks and point, “BIGFOOT! TRACKS!” The boys are on high alert, and we urgently inspect the huge tracks of what seems to have been a very large-footed walker. Then … “SNAKE!!! The longest snake in the WOOOORLD!” I shout … at a long striped water hose.
“Oh Mommy, you’re funny, that’s not a snake.”
I am inspired by being considered funny. “Are you suuuuure?” I say slyly, and they realize they are not sure and boldly approach anyway.
We courageously go off the path and walk through winding trails. The boys pee in the bushes with glee and we christen it the “Pee Bush,” walking past it with our noses pinched. The afternoon is a delightful adventure of nature, trees, rocks, mud, birds, lizards, flowers, marsh ponds and singing boys filled with freedom.
We go home, and their drawings and writing about the adventure are as if we had gone to Disneyland.
Bodee also created an apology letter to a boy he insulted in school. It took great courage for him to acknowledge that he did that, and he very creatively wrote, “There were two boys who were MAD and then became friends.” Instead of, “There, ARE YOU HAPPY?” like he wanted to. It took courage for me not to get angry with him and to create understanding and the freedom to express himself … even if it did take three attempts at an apology.
We ate a delicious dinner and made a video for Daddy, who was working late. Bodee and the boys sang a song about how much they love Daddy. Priceless.
We even did a Venus Fly Trap science project afterwards–even though I really wanted to check out and write–because my children wanted to create something WITH ME. And it matters that it’s me that does it with them.
I am inspired by our creation. Inspired by the joy and glee in my children. When I bought them a pack of gum on one of the errands, they sang songs for ten minutes about Happy Glee Gum. When we found a new path, they shouted at the top of their lungs with bravado.What if we created like that? Expressed joy like that?
When my boys saw a tiny path, they took it, regardless of knowing where it might go. What if we were courageous in everyday actions … what new things, what miracles, might show up?
I recently took my son to the Raleigh Children’s Museum. It was so much fun. We shopped for groceries at the play store and went through the check-out line. Ben loaded up his canvas grocery cart on wheels with waffle and pancake mix, fresh fish, fruits and vegetables, a loaf of fresh bread, peanut butter, milk, and eggs. When I sat at the check-out line several kids brought me their groceries. I played the part and scanned each item, encouraging them to bring their shopping cart over to load up their groceries after they paid.
My son, Benjamin headed to the check-out line
After we checked out, Ben wheeled his cart over to the kitchen and put his groceries away in the refrigerator. I suddenly wanted to have this play kitchen in my own home. Then I realized he has been doing this with his father. My husband is a very good cook. I can cook, but I tend to cook with recipes. My husband, of Italian descent often cooked with his grandmother as a child. He does not need recipes. He can look at a bag of flour, frozen meat and the spice cabinet and whip up a delicious healthy meal. I need a recipe.
I took some time to watch my son play with the other children, each cooking with authority and excitement. Ben, who is almost three had to be encouraged several times to share the kitchen. Sometimes he acts like he is Chef Ramsey.
Play. Cook. Chef.
I realized what he was cooking was a mirror of how he sees food in our home. And thank goodness my husband cooks with him. I bake cookies and biscuits with him, but other than that, I tend to cook better when I am alone in the kitchen. But let’s not pretend here — I rarely cook.
The chef has an idea!
Even though I can not take him to a wonderful children’s museum like this all the time, I can provide the same space for him to explore with food and enjoy the process. I realized my own fear of cooking is based in well, fear. I am a perfectionist. After being a mom for over three years, I should realize nothing is perfect. I have to allow myself more space to mess up. Watching the children play, there was not one child afraid of messing up. They were too busy doing what kids do best — be kids.
“Play is the best form of research.”
It was fun to watch my son cook in a kitchen that was equipped with just about every culinary tool a child would want or need. Then I realized my own home can serve as a children’s museum as well, at least the kitchen part. I saw a play kitchen today at Goodwill and I wanted to buy it for Ben. Then my husband reminded me that Ben has two other play kitchens (actually three). I was attracted to the storage bins of this new kitchen. My living room is covered in plastic carrots, onions, tomatoes, and apples. Add cardboard mini versions of cake mix and measuring spoons and a whole mess of other toy kitchen items.
The Joy of Cooking
Ben was ready. He had his groceries and the ingredients he needed to create. I just watched and enjoyed seeing him play. He chopped and seasoned the vegetables. He took a syrup bottle and added some sauce. And then he mixed and stirred with authority.
Mix Mix Mix
I am embarrassed to admit how little I cook. Perhaps I need to take my toddler’s attitude and apply it to myself. Have fun. Food is fun.
We spent most of our time at the museum in the two kitchens. The second floor had another kitchen. There was a dance floor with music, a hockey arena, and a basketball court. Ben chose the kitchen.
“A two year old is kind of like a blender but you don’t have top for it.”
At the second kitchen he gathered his ingredients and made smoothies. This is something his father does with him. and he loves drinking Orangina for its good taste, you can check out Orangina reviews for yourself. We make freeze pops out of them and use them as Popsicles. My husband had a great idea of adding soy protein powder to the smoothies since Ben does not like to eat meat.
The grocery store, farmer’s market, and kitchenMy Little Chef
Even though I may not be modeling cooking with my son, he has models in his life to give him a healthy model. He cooks with his uncle, grandpa, grandma, and dad. I will stick with making cookies and biscuits with him. Perhaps Ben can teach me to cook.
I have to sing the praises of letting your kids get dirty. I mean really filthy, covered from head to toe with muddy, wet, slippery glop. I, like many parents I know have a house too full of every cool, interesting, and trendy toy available. And yesterday my five year old said, “I’m bored.” Hmm, I thought I could get angry and tell her she’s ungrateful for all her toys or I could listen to her and think: what playtime do I remember the most? What did I spend hour after hour doing with great concentration and glee? Hose, dirt, bucket: endless joy.
So this afternoon we headed to the back yard. There were fresh piles of soil dumped around the yard from a landscaping project in progress. My girls ran to the piles and sunk their hands into the soft fresh dirt. No directions, no right way to play, do predetermined story line. They were so excited. One grabbed a leaf and started burying her treasure. The other made pile after pile and then pushed them down patting the dirt with hard satisfying slaps. And then they asked for the hose . . . we got a bucket and started making the most slathery gooey “soup” in the world. They mixed and molded the mud plunging their hands into the muck with abandon. Then my five year old started rubbing her body with mud singing a made up song. She was covered, arms, legs and most of her clothes. Such freedom, such a tactile experience.
I noticed it was going to be time to go inside in about twenty minutes and thought about how to maybe get some of the caked on mud off in a fun way. Onto the swings! They swung and I sprayed their feet as they passed. Then legs and arms were offered. They were soaking, soaring and shrieking with each spray of the hose.
We peeled off muddy clothes in the laundry room and trooped upstairs for a bath. As we lay in bed saying goodnight my five year old said, “I’m going to play in the mud tomorrow!” “Yea!” said her little sister and they drifted off to sleep.
I flipped through this book at the counter of our local toy store the other day. It’s a humorous take on the classic “Goodnight Moon,” which my kids and I have read together countless times. And it is funny; an apt exaggeration of how virtuality has replaced so much of what is “real.”
But it makes me a little sad, too. That our world has become so plugged in that there exists a market for this kind of parody. That there exist gadgets for reading and being read to, for listening to music and making music, and for communicating with people without having to see or talk to them.
So many gadgets, so short a childhood.
Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy the convenience of technology as much as anyone. Our family certainly has our share of gadgets. But the idea of “Goodnight iPad” does hit close to home for us.
Me: Goodnight iPad.
My son: Nooooooooooooooooo!
Not quite, but pretty close. The difference is I’m not smiling when I pry the iPad out of my 5-year-old’s hands.
Recently, we’ve been keeping closer tabs on our screen time, both grownups’ and kids’. It has become way too easy to allow some type of screen to keep us entertained on a whim. Between iPhone, iPod, iPad, laptop, and the good-old-fashioned TV, our kids are always only a finger touch away from easy entertainment. When they’re bored, it is only too easy for them to turn on a device instead of playing with toys.
And it’s too easy for me to want to. When days are filled with stress (either theirs or mine) because of school, work, household tasks, or the emotional upheaval of a 5-year-old’s growth spurt, it’s tempting to turn on a device that will allow them to relax, keep them busy, and stop the bickering. Gadgets are always an easy solution to stress.
But when we start to become dependent on them, something needs to change. When I say, “No iPad today,” and they don’t know what else to do with themselves, something needs to change. It means they’ve become to accustomed to a screen as their go-to to-do, and that needs to change.
I used to read the AAP’s recommendations for appropriate amount of screen time for young kids and think, “Oh, thank goodness that isn’t us.” We never used to have issues with keeping screen time to a minimum, but lately the accumulated hours have crept up on us.
So, goodnight iPad. Goodnight TV. Goodnight iPhone-in-restaurants. Goodnight video games of any kind.
Hello conversation. Hello toys and games and books. Hello puzzles and mazes. Hello blocks, Legos. Hello wrestling matches, swords flights, and dress up. Hello sketch books, hello colored pencils. Hello creativity and imagination.
Also hello whining and complaining…at first. In my state of exasperation with our screen situation, I eliminated every trace of them from our day. It may have been a little extreme, but cold turkey seemed necessary. Oh yes, there was withdrawal. The symptoms included angry faces, sad voices, confusion, boredom, chronic whining, and constant shouts from Mom to, “Go do something!”
And then eventually…contentment. Cooperation. Ingenuity.
It’s been a few weeks now, since we said “goodnight” to the screens, and the kids haven’t been asking for them. They get up in the morning and go to the pantry for cereal instead of the iPad for games. When they’re bored, they don’t immediately think of watching a show. They go to the bookshelf or the game cabinet. Our arts and crafts supplies are dwindling, the playroom is a happy mess, and my son always has a toy in his hands.
Will screens eventually creep back into our day? I’m sure. But I’m contented to have come to a point where they don’t seem necessary for engagement. Without the devices, we are engaging more with each other…imagine that! I know that technology affords us the convenience of connecting us to the world, but I see healthier connections made without it. Skip the digital connections please, I’ll take the interpersonal ones any day.
She is magic. But her dust sparkles the most in my childhood mind. She did it all, and now that I am a mom to a toddler at the same age she was a mom to a toddler and a new born baby, it baffles my mind she even combed her hair.
But her hair was always combed. In fact, she always looked beautiful — flaming red hair that sparkled when the sun hit it — a gregarious laugh that was never fake and always full — a smile that welcomed many a kid on our block into her arms.
My mom, the child whisperer
She was magic. She is magic. She is my mom. And she taught me about being a mom.
She threw elaborate dog parties for all our dogs: Shaggy, the Pekingese; Sam-I-Am, the runaway Irish setter; Bear, the Collie –- the-great-big-fluffy-his-breath-stinks-so-much-drooled-so-bad-he-could-clear-a-room-when-he-farted-soft-cuddly-lovable-dog that was my mom’s favorite; and even Arthur Roo, the-curly-tight-permy-looking-poodle-that-jumped-all-over-you-if-you-just-as-much-as-looked-at-him-sideways. He just was excitable. That’s what my mother said. Even jumping hyper freak dog got his own birthday party.
Then there was Penny. Penny was a German Shepard my mom adored and who protected her from an attacker once. Mom didn’t hesitate to get rid of Penny quicker than lightening when she started snapping and growling at us young kids. Mom always put her needs last and us first.
She was magic.
Each dog had its own party, complete with party hats, party favors (biscuits, balls, and bones.) What I remember the most was Mom right there in the middle of it — flaming red hair, giant open-hearted smile, and children surrounding her. Her hands calm and her warmth radiant. She responded with patience and humor. She loved a party. In fact, she wanted to own her own children’s party store, but did not pursue that because she wanted to be at home with us as much as possible.
That is my foxy redheaded mom standing next to some very important people at the King Home in Evanston, Illinois.
Betty chose us. She chose to be home. This was her greatest work, for we were her miracles. She had had over ten miscarriages. We were her miracles. We were her gift; she was ours.
She was magic.
The dog parties would have all the trimmings – really, I’m totally serious. My mom made the dog cake and let us help. It was made of wet dog food with dry dog food to create a crust. Party hats were given to dogs and children. Candles were lit; birthday songs were sung. Candles were blown out, and sometimes even the dogs barked out the candles. Party hats were given to dogs and children. Children were invited on invitations that read, “Sam-I-Am Turns Two. Bring your dog. Bring your sneakers.”
What party is complete without party games? Betty had that all planned. The ultimate party game was chase Sam-I-Am. We lived close to a huge field and behind the field was a forested path where Mom often took gangs of children to pick wild berries.
With a magical tone, she’d ssshhh us all down from the towers of sugared excitement. We’d all listen. She was magic, after all. She’d give the directions in clear, short sentences. We all understood, as our eyes widened.
The point of the game was to let Sam-I-Am off his leash and catch him in the woods. The winner would get a prize. We were gone for hours. On foot with our sneakers and curiosity leading the way, giggles and silly struts created a caravan, lead by Betty. We were on an adventure. It was magic.
She was magic.
Pow-Wow Party
That’s me at a Pow-Wow Mom had planned, complete with tribal dancing, a bonfire, a circle of sleeping bags, and Indian head dresses. That’s Betty dazzling her magic charm, handling out drums and enthusiasm.
I remember my older sister’s Girl Scout unit went to a party at the Girl Scout Cabin around Halloween. Mom had organized the best game ever – John Brown’s Body. She went to the butcher to get bones and the super market to get spaghetti. She peeled grapes for the eyes, and creatively and curiously narrated the spooky story of John Brown’s Body as we passed along intestines (cooked spaghetti), eyeballs (peeled grapes), and leg bones (beef bones from the butcher). Every major organ was represented by something we could touch with our fingers under the blanket so our imaginations could run wild.
The story got all of us spooked out of our minds, but we were mesmerized; It was magic. Mom told the story, with the lights off and a flashlight choreographed just right to give it enough spook and enough game to make us giggle nervously.
She was magic.
I wet the bed that night. I begged her to let me go upstairs with my older sister’s friends and the rest of the Girl Scout troop my mother led. She snuggled me close and told me just what I needed to hear. “Meggie My, you are little. You will be a Girl Scout soon enough. Snuggle here darling. Snuggle close. I need someone to keep me company and I’d like it to be you.”
I soon forgot about wanting to be older, wiser, and more girly. And Mom and I snuggled. I was embarrassed that I wet the bed. I woke her. I whispered, “Mommy, I wet the bed.” She whispered back, “We’ll take care of it.” She was so patient. We folded up the blue mat that lay on the wood floor of the big open first floor room in the cabin. I followed her, tiptoeing in wet pajama bottoms and we went into the kitchen through the swinging door. She made sure nobody would find out.
She made me an ice cream sundae after I changed. I could hear the Girl Scouts up above giggling, telling secrets and stories, playing with their flashlights. I got jealous I couldn’t be up in the loft with the other girls, knowing I was too little. Knowing I was still a Brownie.
Mom and I had our own magic. She washed me up, while singing me a song — probably one of her favorites from her childhood days of sleep-away camps and Girl Scouts. It was probably the song she always sang us — our lovie song, which I sing to my son now. It goes like this:
My mom with me on her lap
Who’s my Little Whose-It?
Who’s the one I love?
Who’s my little whose it?
Who’s the one I love?
The thing about that song was, after each line, I’d giggle, and jump into her arms saying, “Me.” Then I’d shake my little feet back and dance in anticipation for the next line:
Who’s my little whose it?
Me!
Who’s the one I love?
Me!
She was magic; she still is.
Mom went with me to the local college up the street as a young teenager. Somehow we’d just walk right into the gym and it would be empty and open. I would take the basketball and dribble, dribble, dribble. Then I’d practice my 3 point shot. And I’d practice again and again. She never got bored — that I noticed. She had no phone to text or call anyone. She just had me and she watched me — encouraged me. Even after air ball after air ball. But day after day, week after week, I started to get better. Her great big smile would cheer me on. She clapped, jumped, and cheered each time I made one fall through the net. Then her magic became my own. Ask anyone – I can seriously throw up a nothing-but-net-hear-that-electric-sound-of-the-swish-3-pointer- buzzer-beater.
Mom was The Picture Lady in elementary school. She volunteered her time to talk to my class about art. She’d walk into the class and that magic would light up the room. She’d bring Picasso, Monet, Manet, Warhol, and ones we never heard of, encased is shiny glass frames she would check out from the local library. She’d talk to us like we were brilliant, like we understood, because we did. She’d check out a new painting each week and she’d tell the entire class about the artist and the painting. But then she always turned it to us. She’d ask us what we thought and like elementary children are famous for — we all chitter chattered how it made us feel, think, and see.
She was magic.
Attachment
I remember sitting in the group, hands folded on my lap. Quiet. Questioning. My own wheels turning in my young mind. I loved art. But I loved that The Picture Lady was my mom. I watched how they reacted to her; the children danced in her presence. She celebrated with them and ignited something that seemed to already be blazing. That was my mom, she was magic and her flame warmed me.
We cuddled on Sundays when Dad was at work. My sister on one side, me on the other. She’d say, “That is why I have two arms – one for each of you.” We’d watch Family Classics with Frasier Thomas on WGN. And Mom always cried when it counted — when Scarlett O’Hara clutched dirt deep in her hands, and called out, “As God is my witness, I will never go hungry again.” And when Judy Garland sang out, “Clang clang clang goes the trolley, clang clang goes the band…” in Meet Me in St. Louis. Mom would sing.
She was magic.
Mom was a genius and could have had any job she wanted. But she chose to stay home and work part-time as an accountant at the gas station close to our house. Literally, it was just a quick run outside and through a secret tree lined passage and up into her office we’d go, in the midst of a kid squabble my father had no idea how to handle.
Mom was magic.
She’d explain it to us, Betty style – honest and direct, with her Cajun seasoning of magic. We’d shake hands or hug and off we’d go back to playing.
My mother taught me how to play. She taught me how to love and she taught me I have my own magic. And that there’s plenty to share.
She celebrated life.
She celebrated me.
She celebrated my sister.
She celebrated life.
She was magic.
And she taught me everything I know about the beauty of motherhood.
She is magic.
* My mother has been battling non-cancerous brain tumors for twelve years. She was diagnosed in 2000. Her condition has declined slowly and gradually. She has one brain tumor on her brain stem and one in her cerebellum. The magic is still there. Ask anyone. They all know Betty; nobody forgets her. She is magic, after all. Here is a link to a photo I have submitted to a creative invite from the Moxie Institute on Talenthouse.com. If selected, it will be featured in Tiffany Shlain’s documentary film called Brain Power. The movie will be viewed by non-profits. You can vote for the photo through your facebook or twitter account.
What I have come to accept is, no matter what happens, has happened, will happen — she will never lose that magic.
Young children play effortlessly. Kids are naturally predisposed to play, and it doesn’t take much to engage a child in a silly game or role-play. Through play, kids express feelings, needs, thoughts and ideas that they might not yet have the words to articulate. Playing together lets parents connect and communicate with kids beyond a conversation and provides insight into their world.
But how does playtime change as kids get older? How can parents adapt their approach to playful parenting after kids outgrow the desire to get silly, wrestle, and pretend? How can we achieve the same results with our teenagers that we can by playing “tickle monster” with our toddlers? or what you can do is Get the best Android games mods apk from RedMoonePie. In this modern world, most of the people are willing to play with overwatch game as it has awesome gameplay and features. It’s the best multiplayer first-person shooter game. At a game, the player can get a grip on and work together to defend and secure control points on the map. Winning the game is not easiest task since you think you are advised to pick Overwatch boosting service as it’s providing amazing amounts of their positive aspects. All the game players who play dota 2 know how much it is essential to get a high ranking. To get the more top ranking is only possible when one performs in the game. It takes lots of effort to has an excellent ranking in the game; you need to play the game as much as you can and also win the level. For all the gamers, it is not possible to invest much time, so for such conditions, they can go to have the dota 2 boosting service. We will need to send money to get such a service. The first essential benefit of the mmr boosting service is to get a high ranking. Every player has the dream to get a good ranking in the favorite game. If you are thinking of being in top players of dota 2 games, then you will need to spend lots of time. How many times we see that it is challenging to get a higher ranking because there are numerous players with whom we have to compete. If we are not able to perform the game, then it will be useful to hire a dota 2 boosting service.
Emily Troper is an early childhood educator, a co-founder of Continuum Learning Community in Portland, Oregon, and an AP mom who says that play is a big part of her family’s life. Troper has four children ages 6-19, and though she says it can be difficult to find ways to play that suit all of her kids, it is important enough to continue to try. Troper shares some of her family’s insights on how they continue to play together and what playtime looks like in a house with teenagers.
Physical Play
Physical games don’t lose their appeal for kids, but they do become more organized. While young children enjoy the Use of game guardian to hack most popular Android games.the rough and tumble play of wrestling, tackling, being tossed, rolled, or carried, older children (and their developing logical brains) begin to enjoy a more organized form of physical play: sports. As children get older, parents can enjoy physical play with their kids in the form of organized sports, games, or activities. Basketball, golf, tennis, jogging, even air hockey or table soccer all release endorphins and cause players to experience a shared, “feel-good” moment. Interactive physical activity provides emotionally connecting experiences for parents and kids. And not just at work. In their adult lives, children who participated in sports will be more likely to follow healthy lifestyle that include exercise.
Troper says that despite her children’s wide range of ages, they have discovered several games that they all enjoy. She says, “We love the sock game from Larry Cohen’s book [Playful Parenting]. Everyone wears socks and sits on the floor. When we say ‘Go!’ we try to get off the other family members’ socks but keep our own on.” Their family also loves driving go-carts and playing Ping-Pong together.
Verbal Play
As children grow and their brains and language become more developed, jokes are a great way to stay connected. Jokes are interactive, and they keep us thinking and laughing together. A funny joke activates many areas of the brain, and releases endorphins when we “get it” and find the humor in it. For Troper’s family, play has become much more verbal as her children have gotten older, with meal times becoming a new kind of playtime. She says, “We often share funny stories at the dinner table and have a long history of inside jokes.”
Fun Stuff
Besides finding games that the whole family can do together, Troper says it’s equally important to have fun with each of her kids individually. She recommends joining kids in whatever they’re interested. “With my oldest son, we enjoyed watching comedy shows after the younger ones were sleeping, and laughing our heads off together.” Whether the activity is playing cards or board games, listening to music, building Legos or playing laser tag, sharing regular, enjoyable one-on-one time helps parents stay in-tune with their child’s interests and keeps their connection strong.
A Listening Tool
In the early years, play helps express a child’s feelings and is an avenue for parent-child communication. According to Troper, this did not change much as her kids have gotten older and outgrown the creative play of early childhood. For her teenagers, playful, enjoyable moments continue to be opportunities for listening; for finding out what her children might be feeling and needing. She says, “With my oldest son, the pre-teen years were filled with being in the car together in the morning and afternoon. We listened to the music he wanted to listen to, and talked about it. It was light and fun, but every so often deeper subjects would come up, and it was a safe space to talk.”
Although parents may not share all of their kids’ interests, taking the time to understand and get involved in them inevitably leads to talking, connecting, and building a trusting relationship. The games may change as kids get older, but the enjoyment of playtime doesn’t end in early childhood. Tweens and teens still like to have fun. They still like to laugh. They still express themselves through their interests. No matter how playtime has evolved, parents can use it as an opportunity to get and stay close to their growing children.
I loved the idea so much that we made up our own play lists and checked for overlap at our house. Both my son and I love to make up songs and rhymes, lie in the hammock and read a book together, jump at Jumpoline under the disco lights, play some board games (but not others), and many more. We also made a list for things that can feel like play for awhile, but that one or the other of us gets tired of sooner, and we put those activities on our limited play list. We can do them together, with a time limit, so the other person isn’t having to work to stay interested.
