I’m playing with my kids, and I’m so F’ing bored.

BoredI’m agonizingly waiting for my kid to take his turn in Candyland. And it’s anything but sweet. After all, there’s a million other things I can be doing that would be less irritating – like getting waxed. And it makes me wonder: can you be an involved, warm, and nurturing mother who just doesn’t like to play?

For me, sitting through a simple game of Hungry Hippos is absolutely mind-numbing. Playing Connect Four is monotonous. And Thomas is really starting to annoy me. Throw in the fact that my 3-year-old doesn’t have the skills to handle defeat – or to move at a human pace – and these games are sheer torture. And don’t get me started on Twister. What was a beloved game of my past now has me worried that one of my kids is going to lose an eye.  (I’m a barrel of laughs, aren’t I?)

Now my husband, on the other hand, plays with my kids for hours. Does that make me happy? Not really. Honestly, it makes me feel like shit. But while he’s doing that, I do serve some purpose – whether it’s making school lunches, scheduling doctor appointments or folding laundry (all the things a girl dreams of). Too bad that holds no value whatsoever in the minds of my kids. Apparently, beating daddy at a game of Zingo is what it’s all about. Screw going hungry at school or having no clothes to wear.

But there is a game I do love to play with my kids: it’s called “sleeping through the night.” They get a sticker if they “win.” Now that game kicks ass.

How do you feel when playing with your kids?

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