Community Post: For the Mama of Many (Rethinking Play)

Jumping out of my lap after a round of loving, my son sped down the hall lightning fast. He didn't expect me to chase him. With the younger two, I've become that mommy. I'm good for the love and hugs—that's easy. What I don't want to do - is the work of play.

There's a line between motherhood and me, and I won't cross it. But we face off with each other a lot lately—toe-to-toe, resistant, defiant. I feel her eyes narrow, when hands-on-hips she shakes a finger, "You're half-stepping lady." Her hollow comments follow me like a toddler after a snack. Between my doing and dreaming, she's there to point a finger or roll an eye. She with the yard stick. Ever comparing, always judging. Because I have two sets of children and I haven't treated them the same.

Ade is 3. All owls and ninjas, cars and trains.
Chailah is 5. Slick and comedic, she loves ballet and everything pink.

They really are a fun pair. But I don't play with them - not in the way I did in parenting the older set, LiChai and Ila Naomi, now 13 and 11. The “been there, done that” syndrome seems to have won this round in the parenting ring.

One might offer age as a reason for my lack of activity but it goes deeper than that. The last two additions to our family were late life gifts for sure. But honestly, the reality of them came with a change I didn't expect - a change in me. By the time they arrived ... well, I was interested in and onto other things.

I'm not the same woman. I'm not the same mother.

The first rush of baby love consumed me. I eagerly pushed swings and played tag. I happily engaged in their world. Parenting was fun because I lived the joy of childhood. Because of play, every stage was an adventure.

As with most parents of many children, the level of personalized care shifts with each successive child. I delegate their play time to the older children or depend on them to "enjoy each other." And I don't think it's fair. They deserve a mother who plays.

But I've forgotten how. I want a silky, salt-water taffy drawn motherhood. Smooth and strong. Pliable. Resilient. Instead, it feels rigid and stiff. I need more play. I'll give myself space to be different but lean into the challenge of more intentional parenting through play.

Chailah loves board games. So I watch as her eyes do a fire dance when she makes the connection between a nickel and five pennies. I play the princess warrior to Ade’s ninja. Over and over again.

Play is good for me. A smile is contagious. My whole body enjoys a good endorphin-rich round of laughter. Play allows me to enjoy full-time parenting—it runs interference for the hard parts. Difficult moments soften. Play is the balm of grace that anoints my motherhood—keeping my mommy muscles long and loose.

This time around I'll invite them into my world of play. Creating balance between their needs and mine is paramount. They use a stop-watch to time my planks and laugh as my body trembles from the core-shaking effort. We laugh together. We're a family with humor, but play allows us to have fun.

When my son ran around the corner, I jumped up before he could turn around. I watched his long legs carry him away and then, he turned back. I don't know which of us was more surprised by my presence. I was there to continue the game started on my lap. It was time to play.

Play is not just for kids. If you are under pressure in your work, a spirit of play can lead to balance, creativity, and good health. In our hyper-productive world, we need to learn how to play again—at home, on the job, and even in worship. This article is part of our series The Work of Play. If someone you know needs to rediscover the joy of play, invite them to the conversation on The High Calling.