The Playroom

As an undercover mom, eavesdropping is always an important part of my surveillance. If I notice someone whose conversation might be intriguing to me, I lean over ever so slightly and I give a listen. Last night, while my husband was in the restroom, I stared into space while listening to a woman who told her dining companions that she used to work in the hotel industry and now she's home with her first child. I also heard her say how her child's speech therapist told her that her playroom was way too cluttered for her daughter. Puhleeze. Way too cluttered? If any therapist came to my house, she wouldn't use that phrase to describe my playroom. Tornado, cyclone, disaster area, those would be terms that I use but what I do know is that my kids aren't delayed in their mental development because the playroom is a mess. What is it these days with parents falling into the trap of therapists who scrutinize their every move and decision? Can't we just let kids be kids and have them use the playroom to play, make a mess and have fun? Do we want to raise hyper kids that become little Felix Unger's because they were forced to clean up the minute they finished playing a game? Hey, I hate clutter just as much as the next guy, but one day, all those toys will be gone and the playroom will turn into a hangout for teens who won't want anything to do with me. So if my kids want to throw caution to the wind and leave their Twister out on the floor along with a tower of blocks that they've been using to construct a castle, I say, leave it out. Sure it may be cluttered, but that's what a playroom is for. To return to Role Mommy, Click Here.