I’d like to think I’m a pretty great mother. Especially compared to what I had growing up. But I have to admit, there is one part of being a parent that I truly dislike and am not very good at: pretend play.
If you have kids or have been around kids ages 2-10, you know what this is. Grab a dinosaur, cat, dog, baby, whatever. Make noises and interact with other figurines. What’s your name? Want to play? Oh no, I have a boo-boo. Blah blah blah. It’s this pretend play where the kid wants you to do voices and act out scenes like you are a dino, doctor, baby, or whatever other creature they desire.
This is pure boredom. I would rather clean 5 nasty toilets than play house. Maybe I’m a bad mother in this regard, but I truly despise pretend play. And, of course, my toddler has latched on to it with a passion. Evie loves pretend play. It’s all she wants to do lately. Mommy, play dinos. Mommy, play meow-meow. Mommy, take care of baby. Mommy, mommy, mommy.
Make it stop.
I’m not heartless. I go along with it for a while. But after so much pretending, I’m done. It’s boring. I understand it’s important for her development, wonderful for the imagination, and a great learning tool, but it’s soooooo tedious to my mind. I would much rather set up her dollhouse furniture, organize her toy bins, make noodles out of her slime. I would rather built sandcastles and make baby trees from sticks. I would spend as much time as she wanted creating, doing puzzles, decorating, etc. But she doesn’t seem to love that as much as I do. In fact, just the opposite. I will create and she destroys. She finds pure bliss in crushing my sand sculptures, stealing my slime noodles, and pretending a tornado ripped through the dollhouse I just arranged. It doesn’t bother me…because, I mean, I am 40. But, at the same time, it’s like dude, I just made that. You’re such a dick.
I’ve gotten to the point that I will accommodate her pretend play wishes for a little bit. I will act like a dino, doctor, or baby dog. But, then after what seems hours, I tell her I am done. Mommy doesn’t want to play that way anymore. This, of course, pisses her off. She will thrust the toy in my face and insist I play. But I stand firm. I tell her Mommy doesn’t always like playing like that and maybe if she made friends her age, they would like to play doggy doctor for 3 hours. I feel mean, but at the same time, I do think she needs to learn that it can’t always be her way. Kids at school won’t want to always do what she wants, and she needs to learn how to adjust.
And before anyone tells me that I will miss this someday, you are wrong. I have 2 older kids, and I never once missed playing pretend. They got older, made friends, and their play habits matured. Scarlett would spend hours arranging her dollhouse furniture and creating unique ideas for random objects she found around the house. This I loved. I would do this for hours also. Or when Gianna would spend time doing crafts with me. Creating decorations for our front door based on the seasons. This I loved.
I look back fondly at this time when they used to play. But do I miss it? Not really. I’m not a nostalgic person. I do love those memories, but I don’t wish that time back. That time was for that time. I look FORWARD to watching them grow into the humans they will be. I don’t miss or wish back any piece of their childhood. I enjoyed it. I loved it. I cherish it. But I don’t miss it.
So, I know, deep in my core, that I will not miss pretending to be a cat, running around my kitchen, sniffing random objects, and peeing on the floor. I will not miss pretending that it’s my dino’s birthday and I am welcoming all my other dino friends over to my house to sing and watch me open gifts. I will not miss pretending to be a baby doctor and administering 5 vials of medicine and tending to 18 fake boo-boo’s a day so my daughter can stick band-aids everywhere.
I love so many things about being a mother, but pretend play is not one of them.