Wednesday, February 8, 2012
I'm not great at playing with my kids. It's terrible, but it is true. My husband does a wonderful job playing with the children, yet another reason why he is such a tremendous father. At home, there are so many distractions like meals that must be cooked, dishes that must be washed, floors that are sticky that need attention. And then there are the electronic distractions like FB or email. And then there is the challenge of the swing shift--the dreaded hours between 3 and 8 where you frantically rush to get dinner prepared while small children hang off your legs crying, while older children ask for help with spelling words, or you are begging a child to finish the next math problem. It's a frazzling, stressful, hectic, awful time of the day.
The last few days, I've started taking the two youngest kids out to play an hour or so before bedtime. I try not to take a book or magazine to read. I push Bubba J on the swing for as long as he wants. "Go faster, Momma!" he'll urge me. Or I'll help A build a house with the giant foam blocks. Both kids love jumping in the ball pit. I like seeing their smiles as they run around. (And the part, I don't tell them? Playing wears them out and helps them get ready for bed!)
I'm surprised how leaving our home to play for an hour makes such a difference in my mood. I'm no longer snapping at them when they beg for one more story. They don't resist me when it is time to lay down. All in all, it is a rejuvenating, refreshing period of the day. So I think I'm going to make it a part of our daily routine.