When All Else Fails, Play!

The Life and Adventures of Nicholas Nickleby by Charles Dickens

For two days, my eleven-year-old lay on the couch, sick with a fever and a cough. On the third, her fever subsided and she was ready to be more active. “Can we play a game today when the baby is sleeping?” she asked.

So we spent an hour playing mancala, pass-out, and Parcheesi. We laughed at the faces we made when we sniffed our noses and tried not to sneeze. As we enjoyed each other’s company, I wondered to myself why I don’t do this more often. When she was my only baby, we spent the entire day entertaining each other. When more came along and they were old enough to play with each other, I tended more to use their playtime as my time to get stuff done. Often, I thought that I had forgotten how to play.

But when I choose to sit down to a game with them, or pitch them balls in the backyard, I realize with relief how easy it is to fall back into childhood mode. Playing a game, all else disappears. I forget about all the stuff I have to get done, my future plans, and worries. I am truly living in the moment.

This morning, my daughter was well enough to return to school, but I had succumbed to the cold. I reached for the last diaper and groaned; I did not want to go to the store. Thankful that I had a reserve of four diapers in the diaper bag, I let my toddler play in her room while I got dressed.

I opened up my hope chest and reached for my oversized, handmade wool sweater, which I had purchased in Poland many years ago. It is well-preserved because I use it only on days when I need that extra comfort.

Then I heard a whirring sound coming from my daughter’s room. I went to her door and saw her playing her feed-the-frog game. She looked at my bare feet. “Stinkies?” she asked me.

“Yes, I need to get my socks on.”

I retrieved some socks and went to join her on the floor.

My husband came home for his lunch and found us there, trying to get plastic flies into the frog’s mouth.

“Is there a lunch?” he asked.

I answered with a sneeze.

He made himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and I returned to our game.

Can a Toddler Learn to Play Checkers?

I bought my two-and-a-half-year-old a Mickey Mouse and Pluto checkers set for Christmas. One morning, with a whole morning of quiet in front of us, I sat down to try to teach it to her.

First I set up the pieces. She got all the Mickeys and I got all the Plutos. I showed her how her pieces could move forward and diagonally.

She went to move one of my Plutos. “No, sweetie, the Plutos are mine. You have to pick a Mickey. Which Mickey do you want to move?”

She picked a Mickey and moved it directly forward. “No, you have to move it here or here. Where do you want to move it?” I say, pointing to the two choices.

“Okay, it’s my turn now. Which Mickey do you want to move now? Oh! Don’t bump the board!” I exclaimed, fixing pieces that had fallen off.

She picked a Mickey off the board. “No, honey, you have to move it on the board, like this. Where do you want this Mickey to go?”

I let myself move into her way a few times, showing her how her Mickeys had captured my Plutos. Finally, she had one piece one move shy of being kinged. “If you move this Mickey, he wins and gets kinged. You can move him here or here,” I said.

She moved and I kinged her Mickey. “Yay! Mickey got kinged!” She threw her arms up into the air, saying “Hurray!”

Then I started to lose her. I had to keep directing her attention back to the game. I quickly made myself lose so we could bring the game to a conclusion.

So is it a fruitless effort to try teaching a toddler a game like checkers? I don’t think so. She learned about taking turns, having patience, keeping her attention attuned, and following rules. And she kept her Mommy’s attention on her. It might be the best thing I did all week.

Painting: Checker Mates by Susan Rinehart

The Little Pink Ball

Sometimes I have a day that is special in its absolute normalcy. I am following my normal routine and somehow every activity is enhanced with a joyfulness that is delicious. I know these days are a blessing from God and are given to us as encouragement and a reminder of his gifts. This happened to me yesterday.

I had a late start getting the baby and myself ready to go food shopping. The telephone rang and it was a relative I had not heard from for a long time. I was delighted to hear from her, and we talked for a while. We complained about how long it takes to go food shopping, but remembered to be thankful we had enough to eat.

I dressed the baby in a pink crocheted dress that had been mine as a baby, and that my second daughter had also worn. Now too short to be worn as a dress, I paired it with a pair of jeans and sweet little cranberry shoes. She looked absolutely adorable!

I had two certificates for free turkeys, as well as two “ten dollars off” coupons, so I made two separate trips into the store, loading up the car to the gills. Mind you, I am not hosting Thanksgiving. We really eat that much in a week.

During my shopping, I met a mother of four with one on the way. We exchanged nice words, encouraging one another. I also ran into a lady from church, who fawned over the baby and how she had grown.

The baby had her eye on a big basket of blow-up playballs, which were on sale for 99 cents. Probably for the first time ever, I bought a toy for my child on impulse. I gave her a pink and orange swirly ball and she giggled with glee. It was a good thing I was almost done shopping, because she then started doing what babies are supposed to do with balls.

At the milk case, she threw the ball onto the floor. It bounced and rolled to an elderly gentleman, who happily bent over to pick it up and hand it to her with a smile. Now at the yogurt section, she threw it to a middle-aged woman, who also was glad to comply. Eggs, ice cream, and we were done, with a few more games of catch thrown in.

I could not have her continue this in the parking lot. At the checkout counter, she lost her ball to me and I snuck it to the cashier, instructing her to hide it. She mistook my instructions, scanned it, and started to hand it to the baby, who was still looking around on the floor for her ball. “No no, hide it!” I whispered to the young lady urgently. Now she put it in a bag and it was out of sight.

Back in the car, I returned the ball and she gave me a laugh that meant, “There it is!”

Once at home, I placed her in the house with the ball. She looked out at me through the glass storm door. Every time I came to open the door, armed loading with groceries, she threw that ball out at me.

Finally, all the bags were in. She stood up and threw her ball, walked to it, and picked it up. She had just learned to walk independently over the weekend, so this was some pretty fancy footwork for her. To me, it was the perfect picture.

I ran and got my camera. This will be one of the days to treasure in this mother’s memories of childhood.

"Be cheerful no matter what; pray all the time; thank God no matter what happens.
This is the way God wants you who belong to Christ Jesus to live."
-1 Thes. 5:16-18