It's May 1, and in a little over two weeks, my youngest child will officially be a teenager. I'm still adjusting to the fact that his eldest brother is an adult now, and that his middle brother can officially drive. But, time makes fools of us all, and while the days are long, the years, I've learned, are far too short.
Of course, it doesn't help that all three of my children are now taller than me, with my youngest clocking in at 5' 8" and growing. It seemed like the time when they were little, both in age and stature, passed us in the blink of an eye. We still have good times together. We go to movies, take road trips, enjoy family dinners and holidays. But my eldest has a job, goes to college full-time, and is building a life of his own. My middle son has some newfound independence and is a social butterfly; he's also a rising senior and will be off to college in a year.
Even my 13-year-old prefers Minecraft and his friends over spending time with mom.
So that's why, when the New York Times tells parents to stop playing with their children, I'm here to tell you: don't listen to The New York Times.
Stop whatever you're doing — especially if you're reading The New York Times — and play with your kids. pic.twitter.com/uj9v9ZQ8Gk
— Seth Dillon (@SethDillon) May 1, 2026
My older son recently made a vending machine out of a cardboard box. My daughter created clothing for her Barbies out of paper and tape. My baby went through the hall closet, describing the shoes in a babble that was only one-eighth English. All three participate in a steampunk-inspired world of their own creation called Gearton, for which they build castles and a clock tower out of picture books. When their games are going well, the kids are murmuring, saying to one another, “Pretend we ...” or “What if we ...” or “The queen must be assassinated.” There’s also a lot of screaming. Meanwhile, I’m doing the crossword.
I have three kids under 10 who don’t expect — or even want — to play with me. It took some practice, but over time, we’ve all learned we’re better off doing our own thing: the kids, without stodgy parental interference, and my husband and I, unhooked from the assumption that we have to play to be present.
...
But when my son was about 3, I realized his fictive worlds were vivid enough to continue without me. All he needed, at first, was a listener. After a while, he would head into his bedroom, alone, to transform it into the place that lived in his mind. It was freedom — for all of us. Thus began an experiment with expectation: Little by little, my husband and I would stretch the time our son could safely play by himself.
Now, I'm not one to advocate helicopter parenting, either. Parents are still individuals with needs who have to have time alone and away from the kids. They also need time together as a couple, free from children, too. Smothering them and controlling every aspect of their lives is exhausting and counterproductive. There's a balance, and your children are only under the age of ten for so long, and eventually, you're sending them off to live in their first apartment with friends.
And, despite knowing your kid has his head on straight, as I do, it's still hard to watch them leave the nest and know that phase of your life is not-so-slowly coming to an end. It happens, and I would not want to hamper my boys' lives or potential by tethering them to the nest. Yet, when a Facebook memory pops up, I can't help but wish we could go back for just one more day when I could carry my boys, push them on a swing, or tuck them into bed.
More than that, all of us only have a finite time on this planet. My sons' father passed away in 2024; the boys were 16, 14, and ten when that happened. He will only be there in spirit for most of their major milestones, like when my eldest graduated from high school last spring. If illness doesn't take you out, you could be hit by a bus or a victim of a random act of violence. However it happens, your kids will wish they'd been able to spend more time with you and you with them.
It's always solid advice to not listen to The New York Times. It went from "all the news that's fit to print" to a propaganda mill for the DNC. But when it comes to your kids, ignore them and go play.
