Parenting with Cheryl Erwin
Playtime
RENO, NV
(KUNR) -
Cheryl can be reached at 775-331-6723 or at Cheryl.erwin@sbcglobal.net
I've noticed a peculiar absence as I drive around town and walk through my neighborhood. I know children live here but I never see them. There are no bikes racing up and down the streets, no baseball games, no hide and seek. Yes, it's winter. But children used to play outdoors even in the snow and drizzle. Now? No one.
I'm reminded of the professor who taught my college child psychology class. This particular professor, a man who obviously loved and understood children, had an interesting theory. He believed that the reason we adults so often struggle to get along with our youngsters is that we've forgotten something very important. We've forgotten how to play.
I think that's true, but I also believe the issue has deeper roots than that. According to a recently released study, children today have an average of eight to 12 fewer hours of free play time each week now than they did in the 1980s. Think about that: that's one to two hours each day less play. The reasons? Television, video games and parents' fears of abduction and assault. Kids just aren't allowed out in the street any more.
This isn't a good sign, by the way. To a child, play is more than just having fun. Play is truly a child's "work." An infant learns about the permanence of people and things by playing "peek-a-boo" with her parents; she learns about her body by being bounced and tickled. As children grow older, play becomes the laboratory in which they explore their world. They develop social skills, and acquire manners and the complicated concept of sharing.
Children learn about gravity; they run, jump--and fall down. They try on new roles and personalities by dressing up and playing all the familiar "let's pretend" games: house and army and good-guys-against-the-bad-guys. All too often, adults merely watch from the outside. And these days, play seems to happen only when it's organized, structured, and closely monitored. Where will children acquire imagination, creativity, and independence when we won't allow them out of our sight for more than three minutes?
Oh, we're good at taking children places where they can play. We drive them to play group, to child care, to gymnastics and soccer. But parents struggle to let go, and find it hard to get involved themselves. Letting go is a complicated issue. But one way to build more play into the life of a child is to play together and even that isn't happening regularly in most families. When was the last time you played dress-up with your child? That you got down on the floor and participated in a vigorous game of Legos or "Chutes and Ladders"? When did you last play "hide-n-seek" with all the lights turned off? Or have a real water fight, with squirt guns, hoses, and water balloons?
Because play is about more than fun. It's even about more than learning. Play is one of the most important ways to build a relationship of trust, love, and understanding with your child. When you play together, you get wonderful glimpses into the heart and soul of your child. You get to participate in the world as he sees it. You discover who your child is. And taking the time to play to laugh and just hang out tells your child that he matters to you, that he's worth your time and energy, "just because."
Being an adult these days is serious stuff. It's hard work, a real 24-hour job. There's a living to be earned, which usually takes two parents--if you're lucky enough to have two. There are meals to be prepared and a house to be cleaned. When we think of parenting, we think of driving kids hither and yon, of learning effective discipline and building self-esteem and making sure homework gets done. And those things are important.
But where, in all the things we have to do and learn, is there time for relationship? For laughing until your ribs ache? By the end of the day, most of us are weary and longing for nothing more than a quiet moment. The request to "read to me, Mommy" or "play with me, Daddy" can feel more like a burden than an opportunity.
Think for a moment, though. What will your children remember of you, of growing up in your home? I remember sitting in my little wading pool with my father (who surely had "more important" things to do), pouring cold water and grass cuttings on his stomach with a frosty aluminum cup. I remember the time he went to court for a traffic ticket with a black eye because I'd accidentally kicked him during an especially rowdy tickling match.
Do you want to get into your child's world? Understand how he thinks and feels, what he dreams about? Then learn to play--really play. Get muddy; get rug burns on your knees. Learn to pretend. Laugh--a lot. Play is good for parents, too.
As your child grows up, let your play grow up, too. Go camping and fishing; play golf, or ride bikes. Play poker for the household chores. Take time for fun, and do it as often as you can manage. The bills and the housework will wait for you--I promise. Look inside yourself and find the kid you used to be. These precious moments of our children's lives will never come again.
For KUNR, this is Cheryl Erwin.
© Copyright 2010, KUNR
(2010-02-01)
null
I've noticed a peculiar absence as I drive around town and walk through my neighborhood. I know children live here but I never see them. There are no bikes racing up and down the streets, no baseball games, no hide and seek. Yes, it's winter. But children used to play outdoors even in the snow and drizzle. Now? No one.
I'm reminded of the professor who taught my college child psychology class. This particular professor, a man who obviously loved and understood children, had an interesting theory. He believed that the reason we adults so often struggle to get along with our youngsters is that we've forgotten something very important. We've forgotten how to play.
I think that's true, but I also believe the issue has deeper roots than that. According to a recently released study, children today have an average of eight to 12 fewer hours of free play time each week now than they did in the 1980s. Think about that: that's one to two hours each day less play. The reasons? Television, video games and parents' fears of abduction and assault. Kids just aren't allowed out in the street any more.
This isn't a good sign, by the way. To a child, play is more than just having fun. Play is truly a child's "work." An infant learns about the permanence of people and things by playing "peek-a-boo" with her parents; she learns about her body by being bounced and tickled. As children grow older, play becomes the laboratory in which they explore their world. They develop social skills, and acquire manners and the complicated concept of sharing.
Children learn about gravity; they run, jump--and fall down. They try on new roles and personalities by dressing up and playing all the familiar "let's pretend" games: house and army and good-guys-against-the-bad-guys. All too often, adults merely watch from the outside. And these days, play seems to happen only when it's organized, structured, and closely monitored. Where will children acquire imagination, creativity, and independence when we won't allow them out of our sight for more than three minutes?
Oh, we're good at taking children places where they can play. We drive them to play group, to child care, to gymnastics and soccer. But parents struggle to let go, and find it hard to get involved themselves. Letting go is a complicated issue. But one way to build more play into the life of a child is to play together and even that isn't happening regularly in most families. When was the last time you played dress-up with your child? That you got down on the floor and participated in a vigorous game of Legos or "Chutes and Ladders"? When did you last play "hide-n-seek" with all the lights turned off? Or have a real water fight, with squirt guns, hoses, and water balloons?
Because play is about more than fun. It's even about more than learning. Play is one of the most important ways to build a relationship of trust, love, and understanding with your child. When you play together, you get wonderful glimpses into the heart and soul of your child. You get to participate in the world as he sees it. You discover who your child is. And taking the time to play to laugh and just hang out tells your child that he matters to you, that he's worth your time and energy, "just because."
Being an adult these days is serious stuff. It's hard work, a real 24-hour job. There's a living to be earned, which usually takes two parents--if you're lucky enough to have two. There are meals to be prepared and a house to be cleaned. When we think of parenting, we think of driving kids hither and yon, of learning effective discipline and building self-esteem and making sure homework gets done. And those things are important.
But where, in all the things we have to do and learn, is there time for relationship? For laughing until your ribs ache? By the end of the day, most of us are weary and longing for nothing more than a quiet moment. The request to "read to me, Mommy" or "play with me, Daddy" can feel more like a burden than an opportunity.
Think for a moment, though. What will your children remember of you, of growing up in your home? I remember sitting in my little wading pool with my father (who surely had "more important" things to do), pouring cold water and grass cuttings on his stomach with a frosty aluminum cup. I remember the time he went to court for a traffic ticket with a black eye because I'd accidentally kicked him during an especially rowdy tickling match.
Do you want to get into your child's world? Understand how he thinks and feels, what he dreams about? Then learn to play--really play. Get muddy; get rug burns on your knees. Learn to pretend. Laugh--a lot. Play is good for parents, too.
As your child grows up, let your play grow up, too. Go camping and fishing; play golf, or ride bikes. Play poker for the household chores. Take time for fun, and do it as often as you can manage. The bills and the housework will wait for you--I promise. Look inside yourself and find the kid you used to be. These precious moments of our children's lives will never come again.
For KUNR, this is Cheryl Erwin.
© Copyright 2010, KUNR
