I played with my kids whenever they invited me to, with very rare exceptions. Same with my nieces and nephews and now my grandnieces and nephews. I enjoy the hell out of it. Part of it, I'm sure, is the sure and certain knowledge that they will grow up all too fast and won't want to play with the old fart any more (though I've discovered that a few years later they are very quick to sic their own rugrats on "Uncle Silly" whenever they need a breather), but a much bigger part is the way little ones open my eyes to absolutely amazing things I had forgotten all about.

Being dragged by the hand into the back garden to "lookit this!!!" is only annoying until you actually do look and realize that while you may have seen butterflies a million times, you haven't really seen them in half a century. They are amazing and beautiful creatures. So are kittens pouncing each other (and their own appendages). So are most of the things young children try to bring to our attention.

Having a pack of howling ankle biters climb all over you and try to wrestle you to the ground is only annoying until you consider the absolute and unconditional trust they are displaying by tackling someone so much larger than they are. They know you could hurt them, and hurt them very badly if you were so inclined - or even if you were simply careless. But they believe without reservation that you never would. How many adults would trust anyone so much?

When they grow exhausted from all the horseplay and climb, yawning, into your lap, hug you and tell you they love you, they love you with an unconditional absoluteness and purity that no adult could possibly feel - except toward a child. The calluses we develop over the years (and that they inevitably will too) in response to the vicissitudes of life are still years in their future, and for a brief moment, they can slip right by your own calluses, through all of your emotional defenses and, for a brief moment in time, grant you the gift of feeling that same, innocent, unadulterated love again yourself...

I wouldn't give up these gifts they give me for anything in this world... and I feel truly sorry for those parents (and uncles, aunts and grandparents) out there who do. I seriously doubt they know what they're losing...

I'm 17 and don't have any kids of my own yet (thank God), but my mother always played with me. Though she played differently with me than my brother. My brother and I would play cowboys and Indians and cops and robbers and we'd play on the swing set, my mother played baseball, hopscotch, basketball, soccer, football, racquetball, badminton, cards, puzzles, board games, word games, dominoes and marbles with me.

Growing up didn't change much, we still play badminton and baseball and basketball, and hopscotch, and board games and cards together, and I have a feeling we will for a long time. I'm glad she did and when I have kids of my own, I'm going to play with them a lot because I also know the feeling of nobody around to play with you, this was when my mother had to work horrible hours for a horrible boss, and I can say that's a lousy feeling and I don't intend for my kids to feel the same thing.

At your age (back when dinosaurs roamed the earth) I was solitary, insecure and cynical. In my family, parents did not play with the children - and, in fact, rarely spoke to them at all except to express displeasure or disappointment. I swore that if I had kids (something I doubted would ever happen) I would never treat them that way...

It's a promise I kept, in the beginning only to avoid breaking that promise and, as time went on, because I discovered (much to my surprise and delight) that whatever joy I may have given them in the process was returned to me a hundredfold. The ten happiest moments of my life - perhaps even the hundred happiest - were all gifts of joy from the kids. When I think of happy sounds, a babbling brook and the sweet singing of song birds may be on the list, but they are utterly eclipsed by the sound of babies squealing in delight and children giggling madly over nothing more than the moment they're in.

Hold off for a bit on having kids of your own. 17 is very young. But remember, when the time comes, to play with them whenever you can. I promise you, you will never find anything in life that will fill your own heart with happiness more than seeing the happiness in theirs when you step into their world with them for a bit...

Oh believe me, I don't intend to have kids for quite a while...I ain't even dating anybody yet...but when the time comes, I'm going to be a good mother to them, maybe not the best there ever was, but the best that I can be, and you can't ask for anything more than that. I don't EVER intend to be too busy to spend time with my kids.

everyone does not have the same wondrous experience as a parent. people have different personalities which leads to different experiences. oh. and just because you lost your childlike wonderas an adult doesn't mean that all of us have. i don't need to have a kid to appreciate a butterfly. or puppies. i guess some people do. i have no problem with that. but i have a problem with people who make others feel like something is wrong with them because they don't have the same experience or reactions that others do. Standardized expectations lead to disappointment and depression and also to a lack of original thought.

just saying.

If I led you to believe that I projected my own loss of childlike wonder onto everyone, I apologize. I do not. I have known several people - some older than me - who never lost it at all... and I have envied them with what is probably sinful intensity.

Neither did I intend to make anyone else feel like something was wrong with them. I don't even feel like something was wrong with me... just... maybe missing (for lack of a better word). And I didn't even realize it until I got it back, the gift of three daughters who had no idea it was missing - and wouldn't have much cared if they did. They just had it in abundance and in their childlike exhuberence wanted to share it.

That said, I know of nobody who has actually allowed a child to touch their heart - without reservation or expectation - and not experienced the kind of joy my girls gave me. I know a good many who never did with their own children and regretted it later when they discovered it with grandchildren. 54 years gives one a great many opportunities to observe. Nevertheless, a thousand times that long wouldn't be enough to observe all.

If your experiences with children have led you to disappointment and depression, you have my deepest sympathy. At least you still have puppies and butterflies...

oh... one last thing... I never claimed my view was original. God knows it isn't. But in my experience (please note the qualification) it has always worked, with the rare exception of those who never honestly tried it all, either because their contol issues made it impossible or because they just flat out didn't like children - for whatever reason.

just saying indeed.

i may have reacted a little harshly, but i have just heard from way too many people that feel that they have to live up to certain expectations to be a good wife, mother, friend, person and then when they fall short they DO fall into depression. isn't that at least partly what women who go through postpartem go through? isn't that why some women (or men) who can't have children feel like failures?

i was just trying to point out that not having this "ideal" relationship with a child is not the end of the world and that it's ok to live a different kind of life.

also, i think parenting the child is more important than playing with them. and i think the ablitity to be quiet and focused within oneself is a good precursor to school. i think some of the kids who have a hard time getting acclimated to school might be suffering because they were used to so much attention and now the attention of the adult is split between 20 or more other kids. you see where i'm going with this? i think there's a time for playing with your kids and a time for parenting them. ( i don't think you'll find many in the younger generation who don't play with their kids anyways. a lot of these kids think of having kids like having a new toy to play with instead of a child to raise!)

IMHO, there is a very short list of "expectations" one must live up to in order to be a "good" anything - most of which are codified by law. They consist, almost entirely, of not physically, psychologically, sexually or emotionally abusing other human beings. Those who fall short of these expectations deserve worse than depression. Those who buy into expectations deeper than that and become depressed when they can't measure up to everyone else's standards need to stop watching Phil Donahue and Oprah. They also need to stop measuring their own worth by other people's standards.

I have never suggested that this kind of "ideal relationship" with a child is the be-all and end-all of parenting. I have never even suggested that an "ideal relationship" with a child is even possible. There are always the battles over picking up their own messes, going to bed when it is late and tomorrow is a school day, putting on some clothes that actually cover some skin before going outside, etc, etc, etc...

I merely suggested that the ability to put aside the battles in those rare moments when there is (thankyou God) a lull in the battle and enjoy the moment, in the moment, when they are, for whatever reason, suddenly filled with good humor and delight - to share that moment with them - has joys in it for the parent that Prozac can't even touch. I am also convinced that it creates a bonding between parent and child that encourage both to forge a closer, calmer, more lasting and less contentious bond. I know it worked that way for me, and I've seen it work that way for a lot of other parents and children.

I've seen way too many parents - including my own - who carried a grudge far longer than any child's attention span could follow and who, as a result, never shared such moments with their kids. Without a single exception I've ever seen, the parents and the children in those environments wound up bitter, disappointed with each other and estranged once puberty came and went. For some (me included) that estrangement slowly healed, but not without a lot of the same kind of depression - even despair - you refer to. And that strikes me as unutterably sad...

We do not have to choose between playing with our kids and parenting them. There is plenty of time and space to do both - unless we, as parents, refuse to allow there to be. The children, of course, have no power to make that call. All they can make is overtures - and I've never known a single child that didn't make them, including severely autistic kids. I have seen adults who rejected those overtures, and never seen one who didn't live to regret it (not to mention never having seen a child so rejected that didn't suffer serious emotional consequences as a result). I have also known adults, like myself, who got lured in, whether by guilt or curiosity (or even Grace), by the siren call of those overtures - and I have yet to see a single parent or child who regretted or suffered for it.

Those harried souls who never made that kind of connect with their kids are not "failures". Neither are they "evil", "misguided", "deficient" or "stupid". They are, plainly put, simply missing out on one of parenting's great joys - just as those who have never had Double Dutch Chocolate cake, whether because of allergies, aversion or lack of opportunity, are missing out on a wonderful dessert. There is no overt nor implied reflection on their character in this observation... simply a wistful sense of sympathy.

Graylodge - What a wonderful perspective you have! I too, immensely enjoy playing with my 2 and a half year old (and any kids who happen to be around); one of the true pleasures of my life is when dinner is over and my little one looks at me expectantly and says, "Park?" Just last night we were out for about an hour after dinner and while I did spend some time chatting with other parents that were at the park I also played the part of the monster, went down the slide a few times, and played a game with my daughter and one of our neighbors that involved jumping back and forth over a metal bar. I don't look down on parents who don't do what I do, I'm just baffled as to why they don't.

A few months ago when my daughter's day care center was slightly understaffed, I was lucky enough to be in a position where I could hang out for 30-40 minutes each day when I dropped her off to read stories to her and her classmates, play with the toys, or just be a large toy for them to jump on. Unfortunately I only get pick my kid up from daycare one day a week now, but there was almost a riot the first day I came to pick her up after not being there for a week! The genuine outpouring of joy from those kids when I walked into the room was simultaneously one of the most gratifying moments of my life and one of the saddest when I realized that reason these kids were so happy to see me is that most of them don't have someone who rolls around on the floor with them. I almost feel like a vampire or something, because being buried underneath a pile of giggling 2-3 year olds invigorates me and renews my mind, body, and spirit like nothing else in this world.

I guess I'm lucky because I grew up in a family where playing with kids was the norm; I thank my Father, Uncles, and older cousins for giving me the gift of horseplay. The only way I can repay their kindness is to pass on that gift to every child I meet.

gken69 - I does my heart good to hear from somebody else who "gets it" - particularly after hearing from someone who misunderstood my intent and read into my words an indictment of those who don't have the time, energy or temperment for playing pig pile with a pack of tiny giggling terrorists.

You were lucky indeed. I wish I had had that as a child... and I thank God I got a second chance and have it now.

Graylodge:

I played with my kids whenever they invited me to, with very rare exceptions. Same with my nieces and nephews and now my grandnieces and nephews. I enjoy the hell out of it. Part of it, I'm sure, is the sure and certain knowledge that they will grow up all too fast and won't want to play with the old fart any more (though I've discovered that a few years later they are very quick to sic their own rugrats on "Uncle Silly" whenever they need a breather), but a much bigger part is the way little ones open my eyes to absolutely amazing things I had forgotten all about.

Being dragged by the hand into the back garden to "lookit this!!!" is only annoying until you actually do look and realize that while you may have seen butterflies a million times, you haven't really seen them in half a century. They are amazing and beautiful creatures. So are kittens pouncing each other (and their own appendages). So are most of the things young children try to bring to our attention.

Having a pack of howling ankle biters climb all over you and try to wrestle you to the ground is only annoying until you consider the absolute and unconditional trust they are displaying by tackling someone so much larger than they are. They know you could hurt them, and hurt them very badly if you were so inclined - or even if you were simply careless. But they believe without reservation that you never would. How many adults would trust anyone so much?

When they grow exhausted from all the horseplay and climb, yawning, into your lap, hug you and tell you they love you, they love you with an unconditional absoluteness and purity that no adult could possibly feel - except toward a child. The calluses we develop over the years (and that they inevitably will too) in response to the vicissitudes of life are still years in their future, and for a brief moment, they can slip right by your own calluses, through all of your emotional defenses and, for a brief moment in time, grant you the gift of feeling that same, innocent, unadulterated love again yourself...

I wouldn't give up these gifts they give me for anything in this world... and I feel truly sorry for those parents (and uncles, aunts and grandparents) out there who do. I seriously doubt they know what they're losing...

Dear Graylodge,

That was so well-written, it brought tears to my eyes. I think I had an interesting blend of both perspectives. I felt, at times, like an only child because my sister was nearly 17 years older, but she would play as well. And my dad, well, some of my best memories of all of my life were when he would play, if only for 10 minutes exhausted from work. But the "grown - up" things were really important too - rarely did my mom or dad ever give me a rule without the reasoning behind it, to help me learn. The dryer door must always be closed not because she said so, but because it was dangerous for either a young child (perhaps a visitor), or more likely, one of our beloved pets to accidentally get inside and get killed. So, I never broke the rules I knew & understood.

What all of those seemingly different traits of my sister, mom, and dad have in common is that they all contributed to my growth as a person, and were so successful because they acknowledged me. I could self-entertain much of the time, and did (though admittedly that is when many of my ER trips for broken [insert injury here] occurred!). But the time they spent was truly precious.

I try to be that way with my nephews, whose delivery I coached into this world 13 and 11 years ago. I watch them play with my husband, and though I've always enjoyed it, I never stopped to think about it in the way you've described, about the trust they have in you during play.

So my thought, as long as it seems to have taken me to get here, is that perhaps this boils down to even bigger "adult issues" - having children learn how to trust? Especially in times like this. A "safe place" and adult role model who can acknowledge them is invaluable. Think about the ploys most predators use - they try to make a child feel "special" and not like "just a kid", preying on that dismissiveness.

You sound particularly wise, and speak from a perspective that sounds years off for me still. But I thank you for it, as it's given me an even stronger appreciation for many things....

TiffQL;

I am touched - and more than a little flattered. I am also grateful. My approach to child-rearing drew a fair amount of fire (still does, truth be told), and while my own brood of kids, nephews, nieces and grand-munchkins seem perfectly happy with it, they are, after all, family. I expect they would be supportive of me if I were a leper. That's what family does. Hearing from others who were raised similarly and that it meant (and years later, still means) a great deal to them makes me feel far more secure about flying in the face of "conventional wisdom" the way I did.

You make a good point, and one I neglected to address, no doubt contributing to some of the fire I've taken. It's not all about play. I didn't spend all my time playing with the kids. Neither they nor I would have been so inclined. I had grown-up things to attend to and they had kid things to do. I just played with them when the opportunity presented itself - and had a ball doing it. What's more, it isn't so much the play itself as the approach to playing that makes the difference, and that approach is essentially the same as the approach I took to all my dealings with them, including discipline. I did not view them as adults-in-training, nor as "just kids". I viewed them as people. Small, very inexperienced people, but, nevertheless, distinct individuals with every right to be looked square in the eye and dealt with directly. So many of us are dismissive of them when we talk to them, or even when we play with them - almost as if thier diminutive size, inexperience and dependence upon us made them somehow less a person than we adults are.

"Why?" is a question we hear from their mouths so often it sometimes drives us to distraction but, given their inexperience and desire to master their world it should frighten us if they didn't ask it. They need to know. I may have "spoiled" the kids, but they were certainly not spoiled. By the time they were four thay were all very good at sharing and avoiding conflict. All three had demanded to know why when I told them they should share their toys. Those were their toys, after all. Once they understood, however, that other people don't like you if you won't share and if you are mean to them, they made the connection very easily. There are lots of toys around, and it is always easy to find something to play with. Finding someone to play with is not as simple. I never had to teach them the "Golden Rule". They figured it out on their own once the dynamic behind sharing was explained to them.

On a final note, the issue of predators and trust was always a part of the equation, in more ways than you might imagine. It is vitally important for the emotional health of children to not only have a safe place, but to feel safe. Hell, it's important for all human beings, adult and child alike. Nevertheless, the world is a dangerous place and creating that safe place can be difficult. A big part of the reason I spent so much time playing with the kids was to make sure any lurking predators nearby would see that there was a large, male, adult presence hovering around them all the time, clearly fond of them and likely to protect them in ways that would prove painful to anyone foolish enough to try and harm them. On the other hand, our culture is extremely leery of large, male adults hovering around children at all, and there is no shortage of people who looked upon my playful presence with grave suspicion. I was always aware of the necessity for making sure there were lots of kids there and other adults present at all times, even if they were sitting off to the side and not joining in the play. I made sure the windows and doors were always wide open and that there was not only never a hint of impropriety but, indeed, that there was never any opportunity for impropriety. It didn't stop the funny looks and suspicions of those inclined to distrust any adult male near children who was not stern and aloof, but it kept them from being able to make any hay from it.

The kids all know about "bad" adults. They learn all about it in school and on television by the time they are 7 or 8 - and we talk to them about it too. On those rare occassions when a little one displayed anxiety about the danger, I always found it helpful to watch a National Geographic Special with them on Animal Planet or Discovery. Notice how the ones who stay close to the herd are safe? It is the ones who wander off by themselves who are in danger. True of animals as well as people. Stay within eyeshot and earshot of trusted adults and in crowded public places as part of a group and there is very little danger. Mosts kids are naturally inclined to run in packs anyway and, in my experience, don't mind the presence of adults nearby so long as said adult leaves them alone when they want to be left alone. Indeed, they seem to welcome that presence if said adult goes one step further and is willing to join in the play when they feel like torturing a grownup.

I don't know that any of this constitutes "wisdom". Ultimately I was only catering to my own emotional needs. Knowing that they are happy - and that I contribute to that happiness - makes me feel happy. Knowing that they are safe and feel secure reduces my own anxiety level. I probably learn at least as much from the things they ask, "Why?" about as they learn from my answers. I am still taking fire from some who think my approach to child-rearing is wrong, but if I could go back and do it all again I still wouldn't change a thing.