Child's Play, The Citizen, June 2005

Play With Me

Gregory K. Moffatt, Ph.D.


Daddy will you play with me? How many times have you heard that? Since my kids are out of school for the summer and because I work at home, my son says it about fifteen times a day. What really can frustrate me is when I come inside after a game of kickball or a swim with him, but that doesn't seem to satisfy his desire to play with me. I settle into my desk chair and start working only to hear his little feet at my office door and a sheepish voice saying, "Do you want to ride bikes?"

I don't mind playing with my son, of course. In a way, I wish I didn't have to do anything else. It would be fun to do puzzles, go on walks, ride bikes and swim all day every day. I really enjoy it when we sit together in the armchair when we watch a movie and when we ride together to the store for ice cream. Unfortunately, I am a grown-up and I have things I have to do each day. The challenge is deciding which things I really "need" to do and which things I just "want" to do.

I have two older children and they rarely ask me to ride bikes or go for walks anymore. They are busy with boyfriends, school, friends, and activities that usually don't include me. It makes me wonder when they stopped asking. I've always known that day would come and any of you who were reading my column ten years ago may remember that I prophesized that very transition way back then. But I still couldn't tell you when everything changed. As hard as I tried to pay attention to it, I still don't know when it happened.

I suppose the thing that is a little scary is that I realize this might be a transitional summer in my house. My eldest daughter will be ready for college at this time next year and she may move away for good. My primary role as a parent to her is drawing to an end. Even though I'll always be her father, once she leaves home, things will never be the same.

My son is now eight. He is transitioning, too. It won't be too long until the time when he would rather play with his friends than play with me. He still loves playing with me and right now he can't imagine things being different. I asked him the other day if he thought he would ever get too big to be my best buddy and he said, "Well, when I'm older I'll want to spend a lot of time with my girlfriend, but I'll still want to play with you." He is part right. He will want to spend time with his girlfriend, but his days of playing in the woods with me are numbered, I'm sure of it.

Watching for this change is like watching the minute hand on the clock. You know it is going to move, but you can't really detect it until it has already done so. So many times I talk to parents whose children are in their teen years or beyond. They almost always seem amazed at how quickly time passed and sometimes they tell me how much they regret spending time on work or personal projects rather than spending time with their kids. I've tried to be a dad who would never have to look back and wish I'd done more with my kids and less for myself.

I'll probably have regrets, I suppose. Everyone does, but for now, I will enjoy the moment. Every interruption of my work isn't an interruption at all. I like to think that my work is an interruption in raising my children. That makes it a lot easier to shut off the computer and say, "Come on, son. Let's play." The work will always be on the desk, right where I left it, when I come back to it - but my son won't always be in his room waiting for me. Sorry for the short column, but my son just asked me to make macaroni for us for lunch. Good idea.

Back to Column Home Page