Just six simple words can send a shiver down your spine: “Mum, will you play with me?” Those words have the power to leave you feeling overwhelmed, exhausted, and mentally drained.
My daughter, Emily, not long past her fourth birthday, had just started her first year in kindergarten, and we were navigating a series of short school days. After picking her up at noon, we found ourselves with three long hours before we needed to go back for her sister, Lily. We had just finished lunch when, with her big eyes sparkling, she looked up and asked me those six words.
I know some may judge me harshly and label me a bad parent, but I must admit that I dread hearing that request. While I could happily spend hours dressing and undressing a Barbie doll, reading a captivating story, or building intricate structures with Legos, the idea of “playing” fills me with a sense of dread.
“Let’s pretend it’s a circus, but I’m not a clown. I’m a butterfly now, Mum!” Emily declared.
“Alright,” I replied, trying to muster enthusiasm.
“You have to say, ‘Here comes the butterfly,’” she instructed.
“Okay, here comes the butterfly!” I said, only to be met with her annoyed response.
“No, Mum, you’re not allowed to say it yet. I’m not ready.” She dashed off, rummaging through her dress-up box. “Now I’m ready!”
“Here comes the butterfly,” I called out as she twirled in her wings before retreating back to her playroom.
“Now let’s pretend I’m a Barbie bride girl having a wedding,” she continued.
“Sure,” I said.
“You have to say, ‘here comes Barbie bride girl,’” she reminded me.
“Alright, here comes Barbie bride girl,” I said.
“Not yet, Mum! I’m not ready!”
A pattern was emerging. Playing with my daughter seems to consist of her giving me directives to pretend, while I’m left with no real creative freedom. I often find myself inventing excuses to avoid this type of “play.” I need to use the restroom, make a cup of coffee, or maybe even check my email. Anything sounds better than being ordered around by a four-year-old.
Yet, I know that this phase won’t last forever. Eventually, my daughters will grow too old to want to include me in their imaginative games, and I’ll likely regret not participating more when they were younger. I already carry a load of maternal guilt—what’s one more concern on top of that?
I do enjoy the performances my girls put on, where they dance, twirl, and sing. I love being the supportive audience, free from the pressure of participation. I cheer, take pictures, and genuinely appreciate their creativity. However, when it comes to imaginative play that allows no room for my own imagination, I struggle. Being bossed around by a child is a challenge I’m not always ready for, leaving me in a constant state of apprehension when I hear, “Mum, will you play with me?”
For more insights into fertility and home insemination, check out this article. If you are looking for a reliable sound machine, this product could make a significant difference. And for more information on IVF, the NHS provides an excellent resource.
Summary
The pressure of playtime can be overwhelming for parents. While the joy of watching children perform is rewarding, engaging in imaginative play can feel like a chore. Parents often find themselves wishing for creative freedom and dreading the demands of a child’s imagination.