Who Moved My Sandbox? The importance of play

When do we stop playing in the sandbox?

When I was a kid I had a sandbox. My cousins had a sandbox. My daycare had a GIANT sandbox. We spent hours at "Happy School" racing each other in big wheel tricycles. It was normal to spend time outside digging through sand and occasionally pushing aside the inevitable animal turd. It was a part of child hood. Digging, playing, trying new things and digging some more. You could build anything you wanted with a little water a shovel.

When I was pregnant with my second son I insisted on getting the plastic turtle sandbox. I had always wanted one as a kid. I envied the kids who could sit on plastic seats on the edge. I sat in sand that was enclosed by 4 wooden planks. I wanted my children to have the "fun thing." Their father was dead set against it, fearing it would become home to an animal or bugs. He refused to make the run to Toys'R'Us to get it. So, 6 months pregnant I walked into the store, pulled the ticket for the sandbox and put a few 50 lb bags of sand into my cart. If it's not obvious, I have always been stubborn.

I knew in my heart this would give us something fun to do outside during the warmer months. Our oldest loved to build and play with trucks. We were expecting a second boy. It seemed to be a natural choice. When the day came to gift it, my son sparkled when he realized the giant green turtle sitting in the living room was going to live outside with all the dump trucks he could find. Win for me!

A quick google search will tell you that sandboxes and the play that occurs in them help children develop. I have always known creative play was important, but I didn't know all of the things that AI just told me sandboxes can do: sensory stimulation, build a sense of accomplishment, social skills when playing with others, building fine and gross motor development. I was just looking for something the two boys could do independently together while I tried to....do dishes or put away laundry.

The sandbox has come to symbolize something else for me as an adult in a corporate world. The sandboxes I hear about these days often refer to a fake digital environment. Trying new software? I guarantee they'll send you the link to the sandbox so that you can play around and experiment. It doesn't have the magic I used to feel when trying to make the perfect seashell with a slightly cracked mold.

Do you know what else has lost some of its magic? Playing in the sand at the beach. I still love to build a sandcastle, but now I spend more time shuttling water back and forth from ocean to construction zone. There is so much to carry. Sand can find it's way into parts of my body that I would prefer it didn't. Some of it is my own control crazy fault. I am the one buying the ever increasing kinds fo molds to make sure we have the ultimate castle. My boys would be happy digging their way through the planet until a giant wave comes to fill in the hole. (Note to self: bring less stuff to the beach more time)

When we do stop playing in the sand? I just recently got rid of the turtle sandbox, my youngest is 7 now. He's moved on to sports and video games. Though he hasn't played with it in probably a year, I still had to smuggle it out of the house to prevent tears when it left the house. I don't remember when my sandbox went away. But I know if I offered them the opportunity, my boys would play in it. Maybe the thing that stops it is the parent that is tired of cleaning up the sand. That was the ultimate decision-maker for me.

Playing for adults often takes on a different meaning. My husband and I recently had a conversation about who was more playful. I was flabbergasted he thought he was more playful. When I asked about his answer, I realized that "play" for each of us meant something different. He plays more sports with the kids - baseball, basketball, soccer. In that way he is more playful. For me, play involves creative endeavors - comedy, skits, improv, creative explorations of the arts.

I don't think my husband ever stopped playing. I definitely did. And it almost ruined me. I decided in 2001 that playing wasn't important, and put it on pause. I locked my inner child away and told her, "some day I'll let you play again." While it helped me find a good career that supports my family, it also contributed to anxiety and eye twitching. It wasn't until 2 years ago when I took a stand up comedy class that I finally let her out.

I recently read that you should try to spend 10, 15, 30 minutes/day with each child. As a mom of 4 boys, that's a lot of play that I'm not always into. But I let them teach me Roblox, baseball, and I do LOVE a good Lego build. It occurred to me while writing this - what if we tried to spend that much time with our inner child?

What would your "sandbox" look like? What would your inner child do if they were given permission to play for 15 minutes? Would you color? Paint? Throw a ball? Hopscotch? Build with Tinkertoys? Serve tea? Shuttle piles of dirt back and forth with a giant dump truck? Put Barbie in her dream house and take care of her beautiful new horse? Dress up like a princess and have a ball? What if all that stood between you and the ability to play was giving yourself permission?

This week, give yourself permission. It's only 15 minutes - see what happens. You might find it's the thing you needed to refresh.

In laughter,

Megan