I hear a light crash followed by a thud and then bursts of laughter. Another muffled thump resonates, followed by what sounds like little bodies rolling around on the floor. “Quit sitting on me! Quit sitting on me!” shouts my 6-year-old, while the 4-year-old bursts into giggles. Another thud echoes through the house.
My boys are at it again, and I’m completely okay with that.
I’ve got three sons, and my partner is the quintessential roughhousing dad—always flipping them upside down or encouraging them to form an “alligator stack” on his back, stacking them from oldest to youngest. He tickles, wrestles, and engages in a playful game they call “sloth,” where they cling to his arm and he swings them around.
While I don’t engage in that level of physical play, I’m all about affection. There’s always a little one snuggling into my lap, and the almost 3-year-old is often in my arms. They fight for a spot next to me on the couch, and even my 6-year-old holds my hand during outings, whether we’re in Target or strolling down the street. We’re a family that thrives on physical connection.
Thanks to my husband’s playful nature, the boys naturally roughhouse with each other. What begins as a game of burrowing under the blankets often leads to playful punches. They pile on top of each other, roll around, and even cuddle up like kittens when they sleep. Occasionally, one of them lets out a yowl, and they instinctively know to stop. They respect each other’s boundaries, steering clear of faces and sensitive areas. They understand the limits.
Why I Allow Roughhousing
So why do I allow them to play rough? I believe it’s beneficial for their development.
Research supports this idea. Physical touch fosters the release of oxytocin, which is crucial for social behavior. According to Psych Central, oxytocin promotes trust, diminishes fear, and enhances empathy. It also aids in reducing stress and anxiety. Furthermore, in their book “The Art of Roughhousing and Why Kids Need It,” authors Dr. Anthony T. DeBenedet and Lawrence J. Cohen present compelling arguments for the necessity of roughhousing. They assert that it can boost intelligence, enhance emotional understanding, and cultivate ethical behavior—all solid reasons to let kids engage in playful wrestling.
My sons intuitively recognize which friends are up for roughhousing and when to dial it back with their brothers. Some children just aren’t into rough play, and my boys adapt accordingly. They have a family friend who likely hasn’t engaged in any roughhousing, and they know not to initiate play with them. However, my oldest son has a friend who enjoys wrestling just as much as my boys do. Once, his mom panicked, mistaking their innocent play for something dangerous. In reality, it was just typical wrestling fun with life jackets on.
Challenging Parenting Trends
This approach to parenting might not align with current trends. The rise of helicopter parenting has made everyone overly cautious about injuries, causing a simple scene of two kids rolling on the floor to seem perilous. Parents often attribute every injury to reckless play, assuming it’s the fault of parents who allow roughhousing. Consequently, rough play is often associated with “bad kids” and “bad parents.” Instead of letting their children tumble freely, many parents instruct them to “keep your hands to yourself.”
I often receive disapproving looks on the playground when my kids start tackling one another or engaging in stick battles. What these judgmental observers fail to realize is that I don’t permit my children to wrestle out of anger. They cannot fight over a toy in the sandbox or hit each other in frustration. When that behavior arises, I step in. That’s not the wrestling we endorse. The wrestling we allow is rooted in consent and fun, not anger. Fighting, after all, is not the same as playful roughhousing.
As long as both parties agree, I refuse to let helicopter parenting dictate my children’s play. They are free to wrestle, roughhouse, and engage in brawls as they wish. I won’t intervene, and I shouldn’t have to.
Conclusion
In summary, allowing children to roughhouse is not only a natural part of childhood but also beneficial for their development. It fosters social skills, emotional intelligence, and overall well-being. By setting boundaries and encouraging consent in their playful interactions, parents can create a safe environment for their kids to explore and grow.