This is the living room that I have designated as the "play room." We used to have toys in almost every room in the house, then I decided that was too much, so I condensed everything to this room. Train table, bins of trucks, dolls, etc. all within a pretty open floor plan. There is a daybed couch that they can sit on and we even have a TV in there for when the adults want to have some peace and quiet. What more could my children want?
This is where my children choose to play. It is a 3x4 foot space in which I have crammed my treadmill. I also have stuffed some baby toys in this area - it's sort of a storage area for those baby toys I have out for any babies that come to visit us at our house. (Ignore my attempts to hide my treadmill with the token tropical houseplant.) It is not a big area, it is consumed by the treadmill, yet this area ALWAYS attracts the children and they insist on playing right under my feet. This area is literally 12 inches from my feet when I am at the desk/computer doing "my" work.
Here's a wider angle of that area. As you can see, there is not much room at all to play. But they love playing there. Apparently, what makes a good play area is not space - it is proximity to Momma. Why is it children always want to play under my feet???? Same thing as in the kitchen - while I am cooking, you will invariably find a truck or a baby doll under my feet next to the stove.
This is a bit of a close up of the toys the children were playing with today. Seems kind of odd. A big rig with a trailer - tractor in tow, an upside down truck, a pig, some school papers, a baby stroller and a boat with sea animals. I find it tremendously funny that the boat is actually on top of the sea creatures. Clever.
This is where my children choose to play. It is a 3x4 foot space in which I have crammed my treadmill. I also have stuffed some baby toys in this area - it's sort of a storage area for those baby toys I have out for any babies that come to visit us at our house. (Ignore my attempts to hide my treadmill with the token tropical houseplant.) It is not a big area, it is consumed by the treadmill, yet this area ALWAYS attracts the children and they insist on playing right under my feet. This area is literally 12 inches from my feet when I am at the desk/computer doing "my" work. Here's a wider angle of that area. As you can see, there is not much room at all to play. But they love playing there. Apparently, what makes a good play area is not space - it is proximity to Momma. Why is it children always want to play under my feet???? Same thing as in the kitchen - while I am cooking, you will invariably find a truck or a baby doll under my feet next to the stove. This is a bit of a close up of the toys the children were playing with today. Seems kind of odd. A big rig with a trailer - tractor in tow, an upside down truck, a pig, some school papers, a baby stroller and a boat with sea animals. I find it tremendously funny that the boat is actually on top of the sea creatures. Clever.Special thanks to Aunt Ara for providing the sea creatures for the fishing expedition.
Has anyone ever really found the explanation for why children want to play right under their mother's feet?
I'm sure if I search my psych books, I'll find reasons such as: The children want to be close to me physically to deepen our connection, etc.
Part of me thinks it is a form of torture. Beginning April 1, I become a sandals & flip flops only girl. This means that while I am in the house, I am barefoot, which in turn means I step on some 99,000 toys in my bare feet a day. All this hoop-la about the torturous acts being performed during terrorist interrogations has me wondering why they don't just fill a cell with matchbox cars, legos and Barbie shoes, and make the criminal walk across that floor with a blindfold on. I would confess government secrets in order to get the children to stop leaving those toys under my feet!
But what matters most is that they are having fun, right?
Someone tell that to my feet.
I sure hope that a pedicure is in the works for mother's day.