I don’t remember doing a whole lot of imaginative play as a kid. You know, like where you have a few action figures or dolls or whatever and you make up some kind of situation and act it out.
I was more of a board game/books/coloring sort of kid.* I did like dolls, but I think I mostly dressed them and did their hair. Once they looked put-together, I moved on.
If I wasn’t that into it as a kid, you can imagine how I feel about it as an adult.
I am totally happy to paint, chalk up my back porch, cut shapes out of Play-Doh or work my way through a giant floor puzzle. But if you hand me a stuffed horse and say “play animals with me!” I will struggle to not sigh very loudly in your face.
I want to encourage his creativity, his imagination. But how many times can one pretend to eat a tiny plastic ear of corn before one wants to flush said ear of corn down the toilet?**
I try. I really do. Just the other day, I was very convincing as the big T-Rex that was afraid of the little goat, despite logically knowing there is no way a T-Rex would EVER be scared of a meek little goat. EVER.
I decided that performance was so good that I deserved at least a week (a lifetime?) off from any and all pretend play.
Am I the only one? Is this a fake-it-till-you-make-it situation? Is this why people have more than one child?
*You know, a nerd.
**Ditto to the plastic pile of carrots. And the lemon. And the hamburger bun.
I'm Meg. An Ohio girl who relocated to Arizona after college and met a true Pennsylvania gentleman. Married him and had a little boy. After nearly a decade in the desert, we moved Back East to be closer to family and changing seasons. I'm a freelance writer and a stay-at-home mom. I am too organized and too sarcastic for my own good. But I make a killer cheesecake.
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