I grew up in an upper middle income community in South Florida on a lake and many of our neighbors like us had maids and yard men, which in those days meant your family was doing pretty well. We had the nice pool that all the kids come over to in the afternoon for a dip when the weather was too hot to ride bikes to climb trees. It was a real neighborhood where the families talked to each other and watched out for each others kids. And more important kids were able to be kids and play.
Finding someone’s bike left out behind our car in the front driveway seemed almost a daily occurrence. It seemed that when their mom’s would holler for them to come home for dinner they would run off with their sisters or brothers and skee dattle home leaving their bikes behind.
We had the house where all the kids loved to come and hang out. It was fun. My father even built on to the house and created a game room with pool and ping pong tables to gather and socialize with our friends. It would have seemed like we had the ultimate family until that dreadful day.
My parents gathered my sister, brother and I together and sat us down to tell us their news. Dad and mom were getting a divorce and dad was moving out. That day my world changed. I went from being a happy go lucky child, not having a care in the world, to a child who felt the stress of her parent’s adult world.
I grew up in that moment. I became serious. I was given a pen and piece of paper at age five and told to write down my new chores because mom was going to need extra help and many things were going to change. Boy, was I unaware of just how different things were about to become.
Childhood after that day was no longer carefree. I was told I had to grow up and become responsible. I took what they said seriously and after my father moved out I began taking on a lot of the rolls that our maid used to fulfill. I began cooking, cleaning, and being the older sister even though I was the youngest of three.
We no longer could afford the house with all the luxuries that once was ours when both dad and mom lived under the same roof. We eventually had to sell it and move to a house my mom could afford. Mom also had to get a job to support us which was tough back then for women because they made peanuts for their hard work. She worked two jobs many times just to make ends meet. There wasn’t much time let to nurture us when she came home most night clasping from exhaustion.
Mom was taken to a hospital due to a nervous breakdown. I was so sad to see her in such pain but on the outside I wanted to act big and not cry so that others would know that I was not being responsible. She finally came home and returned to work but it took her a long time to recover and the scars it left on me still continue.
I went on to buckle down in school and graduate early because I thought school was a waist of time and I should get on out there and work. I missed out on many things by this sentence that seemed to have been placed on me. I am sure it was my own perception of that day that cost me like many other children, their childhood. But like so many other kids from broken homes, two parent working homes, or other hardships to where growing up in the world today surely seems certainly difficult.
It wasn’t until I had my first daughter was born some thirteen years ago and she began teaching me how to play all over again. It was very difficult at first. I had a very short attention span to color, skip or play Barbie. I even had a real hard time cutting up and laughing about nothing. We took baby steps together. She seemed to understood how hard it was for me especially mentally and emotionally but she was very patient with me. She would ask me to play and understand most times when the little voice in my head was telling me I should be responsible and doing something to earn a living for us. I couldn’t stay long and it took some time to stop those old familiar toons that made me responsible and replace them with new ones that allowed me to take some time to play.
So often we put the pressure on our kids to grow up, quit fooling around and get serious. I have parents and grandparents who come to me wanting me to teach their kids how to write and learn because they see my kids and want their kids to perform better. The pressures put on kids entering preschool these day to write their name and read is creating a bunch of depressed kids on prozac. Do you know there are more antidepressants prescribed for kids than the elderly? Something is wrong here and the kids are not the ones to blame.
Many kids are whisked off to daycare before they were a few weeks old with their nutrients coming from their bottles that are propped up in their crib. They miss out on being touched, show love and many of the foundational experiences that set us up for a life of success.
Today almost 80% of infants and children are put in childcare daily. The parents are trying to make ends meet and our kids are suffering. The statistics are that one in three babies born in the United States are to unwed mothers, 60 percent are born to women older than 30. According to the Census Bureau, of all children born in 1993, 6.3 million were born to single women, up from 3.7 million in 1983 and 243,000 in 1960. Can you see the trend and I am sure it hasn’t gotten any better.
There is a breakdown and kids are not being shown how to love by being loved. We have a whole generation of kids piercing themselves and many of them to get attention in unhealthy ways because they were not show love in healthy ways.
I think it is high time that we adults quit being so serious and return childhood to where it belongs and that is with our children. Let them teach you how to play as my daughters have done with me. Be open to experiencing a little more laughter each day and see what wonders it will do not only for your relationship with your children, but also your health, your productivity at work and your ability to make ends meet.
If you don’t have any children of your own, go borrow some. There are many kids out their needing a friend who would love to teach you how to play. But it is really important for you to change roles with them and stop being the know it all and allow them to teach you how to observe the world with curiosity and wonder again. Allow them to spark your sense of adventure and ability to dream again.
Who knows you might be as fortunate as I am to be able to play for a living vs. working a job just to make a living. I get to enjoy my girls daily and home school them so that we can learn from each other and make our lives full and rich with all that life has to offer. I have a wonderful husband who shares in making my life as playful as possible.
It seemed I followed my mother’s pathway and our stories were almost identical. I had the big house, all the stuff, the kids but what I was missing was something inside. It was not something someone could give me or something I could buy. Once I healed the little girl in me that wanted to be creative and play my life took a major turn. Now I realize how important it is for me to nurture that connection inside of me. My life is now so enriched because I am being true to the child in me. Play is so important, not just for me, but for everyone.
I hope you will take time to get to know what kind of play makes you happy and get out their and experience some of the good life. Even if you take those long forgotten riding lessons that your dad said you couldn’t, or swing high on the swing set at the local park because you never were able to swing. Find time to paint even if you think it looks silly at first and remember to smile as you are doing it always. It is so amazing when we realize that kids know how to effortlessly play and yet we as adults find it so hard to do. Lighten up and laugh out loud and you would will become anew.
It is important to remember that we are all children in God’s eyes and it is time to take back your childhood so that the kids of today can have theirs. Children model what they see.
I recently read an article in 
