Be present. Stop worrying. And play.

Ride the Waves

My family fell back in love with the beach this summer.  The first time we went out, it took a bit of time to acclimate.  The sand is hot.  It gets everywhere.  And I mean, everywhere.  Keeping the sand out of our toddler’s mouth was a challenge.  

In an effort to encourage my son to get out into the water and boogie board, I jumped in myself.  The pacific ocean is strikingly cold.  I waded out into the water and thought, this used to be fun.  I was hesitant and didn’t want to get my hair and face wet.  But, of course, I kept misjudging the waves and they would crash right on me, splashing salty water in my eyes and carrying me back towards shore.  Maybe my son is right to hang back, I thought.  But, I pressed on.  

The next time I went out about 45 minutes later, I was a little better at judging the waves.  I got out further and deeper into the water.  My body adjusted and didn’t feel as cold.  It actually felt nice.  I felt the sun shining above me.  A bigger wave came crashing over me and when it splashed my hair and face, I laughed.  I ran to shore to get the boogie board.  I caught a little wave into the shore, and my sons happily clapped.  My oldest felt braver and tried himself.  I couldn’t get him out of the ocean after that.  Meanwhile, my other two were blissfully playing in the sand, building towers, digging holes and making seaweed soup in buckets.

The waves never changed.  They kept coming and coming, relentlessly.  When we were hesitant or resisted them, we felt cold and got splashed or knocked down.  When we let go and relaxed into waves, everything changed.  The water felt warmer.  We moved with the rhythm of the ocean and began to enjoy ourselves immensely.  Instead of thinking, this isn’t as fun as I remember, I thought…I’m playing with my kids in the massive Pacific Ocean on the edge of a continent.  How amazing.

Life keeps coming.  Day in and day out.  Are you going to resist it?  Wish that it would stop and give you a break?  Worry what the next wave will bring?  Conversely, are you going to embrace and adapt to what comes your way?  Will you change your behavior and mindset so that instead of trying not to get splashed, you ride the waves all the way to shore and then do it all over again?  Playfull Humans pick option 2.  Be a Playfull Human.  Your life will never be the same.

 

Switch it up for Family Fun

We’ve always been a big gaming family, and video games were always part of the fun. I remember the night we brought home Atari, our first gaming system. (I know, I’m dating myself.). I used to watch my mom play Space Invaders, and I remember trying desperately to hit that square “ball” with the rectangle in Breakout. Don’t even get me started about Adventure.

But, we were all amazed by Nintendo when it came out and fell in love with Mario. There might have been an iteration that I did not own (Super Nintendo, I think?) But, I’m pretty sure my brother had it. I bought the Game Cube when I lived on my own. Later, my husband and I bought a Wii; we also both had a DS. I even worked at a Game Stop while I was in law school. But, after awhile, life got busy and I stopped playing Nintendo for a number of years. Until the Switch came around.

I don’t remember why, maybe I saw the Switch while wandering around Target, but I asked my brother if the system was worth buying. (It’s not cheap.) A die hard, he said a resounding yes. By then, I had kids that were 5 and 8. And although video games are more dreaded screen time, I had such fond memories of playing Nintendo as a family, I couldn’t help myself. For Christmas 2017, mom bought the family a Nintendo Switch.

It has been a blast. Racing in Mario Kart throwing turtles at each other was the first addiction. Then came the ultimate addiction, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild. It may seem daunting as an adult novice. But, trust me. Go there. Let your kids go there. The game is beautiful and multi-dimensional. There is fighting, of course. But, there are puzzles. There are things to collect, horses to tame, people to meet, and recipes to cook. It’s fun to watch and play along. We texted Uncle Brian to get tips. A historical Mario fan, we even inspired grandma (my mom) to get a Switch and start playing Zelda. We texted each other when we finished a particularly hard shrine, climbed a tower or conquered a divine beast. There was all kinds of inter-generational goodness happening.

We’ve transitioned to a few other games now, Nintendo classics that have made their way onto the Switch. Last year, my husband got me Mario Party, the ultimate in video game accessibility. Made up primarily of mini-games, you need very little skill to keep up with the pack. And even if you don’t keep up, the game is so random and laden with chance, that you may find yourself back in the game because you were given a special item or were able to steal a star from someone else.

Then there is the ultimate button masher, Super Smash Bros. My family and I played that for over an hour last night, and we were giggling like fools. My six-year old was kicking our butts somehow, using his character to suck us up and spit us out, saying he was having us all for a snack. (Respectful trash talk during gaming is an important skill in our house.) The games are short so we were trying out different characters and smacking each other all over the screen in that fun, non-violent Nintendo way. There is something about playing full out with your kids, especially when they are little, and all being on a level playing field. It’s so fun for them to feel like equals (or superiors!) for a few moments.

And let’s be honest, sometimes you play with your kids to be a good parent, but it isn’t exactly play for you. You’re happy to be spending time with them, but it’s not what you would choose to do if you were trying to really and truly enjoy yourself. But, last night, I lost myself in the game. Amid all my responsibilities and adultness, I became a kid chillin’ on the couch. I ran around trying to smash everyone else, stomp on their heads, bonk them with a mallet, while trying not fall off the edge. I stopped trying to teach, to guide and to discipline my kids. We just played. It was joyful and magical.