Playing games provides something remarkable to the people involved in playing together.  Normally I apply this line of thought to my four children.  They learn cooperation, grace, creative rule making, rule following, and a myriad of other skills while playing card games, board games, pencil and paper games, you name it and they are encouraged to play it!

But, it never fails… I consistently forget that the rules I apply in my parenting also apply to my other relationships.  My husband and I both have a ton of responsibilities and on top of that we each have our own interests and hobbies, so when we do have that rare evening to spend together we often just plop down to watch a movie together.  Basically, it’s easy and neither of us has to think much to hang out in front of the screen.  We do enjoy these movies, but it leaves no time for finding that real human connection I usually needed at the start of the evening.

Last summer though, something interesting happened on our yearly vacation.  My husband, B, and I were camping with the kids and they were (gasp!)  all tucked into an early bed at the campsite.  My book was in the locked car and I didn’t feel like going digging for it, but I remembered that I had thrown a word game into our travel bags during the last minute packing. We decided to play while we sat by the fire.  GAMES!  Why had I forgotten how fun it could be to play them with the person I love most in this world?

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As a mother of three, two of whom are one-year-old twins, my solitude is eked out in small doses on a semi-daily basis. I’m even more rarely out of the house without an entourage, but I managed a trip to the grocery store by myself the other day. Yes, quite the excitement, wouldn’t you say, but I approached the trip with great relish. Ah, solitude!

The trip turned out to be no fun at all. It turns out that I like discussing the various bizarre fruits and vegetables that now populate our grocers with my four-year-old, and watching my one-year-old boy pointing to everything he sees and using his new vocalization of “Whatsat?” while his twin sister smiles and waves at every passersby, her own newest trick. I am used to being a point-worthy sight, one baby in a backpack, one in the grocery basket, and the child running circles around us. But this day, it was just me.

And it was so strange. No one smiled at me. No one spoke to me. Heck, no one looked at me. I walked through the store with complete anonymity, and I found it extremely demoralizing. Now that I’ve (mostly) mastered the art of navigating the outside world with my gaggle, I usually find the experience invigorating. While this trip was more relaxing, it certainly wasn’t invigorating.