Some of my favorite childhood memories are of spending time with my siblings. We didn’t go on fancy vacations, or spend much time at paid activities, but we had fun.

I remember summer mornings spent playing Chex Quest (an awesome game we got in a cereal box), Where in Time is Carmen San Diego, and Roller Coaster Tycoon. I remember afternoons spent jumping on the trampoline playing games like “Surfin’ USA” (this involves coating the entire trampoline with a thick layer of dish soap and then spraying it with the hose, while running across and yelling “SURFIN’ USA!”, it’s a miracle we made it out with out any broken bones), “Wally Ball” soccer with a giant exercise ball in the living room,  and hours spent at the Rec Center pool attempting to touch the bottom in the 12 foot section.

Some of my siblings will remember these moments less fondly, they will remember being bossed around, their turns stolen from them, and getting hurt, but as I’m the oldest my memories are a bit more rose colored. I remember being with my siblings a lot, time has likely warped those memories, maybe we spent less time together than I remember.

My mom wasn’t one to fill our days with organized playdates and activities, I’d imagine that the logistics of taking 4 kids in 4 different directions had something to do with it, instead she preferred we play together at home.

Because I grew up spending a good portion of my  time with my siblings, I assumed this was totally normal and that my own kids would do the same thing.

When I had Harry Potter I spent a lot of time on the floor playing with him.

He was my buddy, we went to every kid activity imaginable, we read for hours a day, I built so many elaborate train tracks it was insane, but then I had AsthmaMan… and a big part of me thought, “I gave you a friend, play with HIM!”

Until AsthmaMan was 18 months old I was great about getting on the floor and playing with them, but around that time I realized they could play together and I could work on other things.

I feel the same way now, except now I feel guilty about it. I don’t think I am unique in feeling guilty for asking the kids to play together so I can be productive on other things. Intellectually I understand that they are ok playing together.

I understand that they need interaction with other children, they need to understand how to resolve conflicts, get along with difficult people, and stretch their imaginations, and spending time with siblings is one of the cheapest and simplest ways to do this. But I still feel guilty.

I feel guilty that I don’t always want to play with them. I feel guilty that I want to get the floors mopped instead of building a lego castle or pretending that the tree fort is a ship. I feel guilty that sometimes I want them to play together because they are just way too loud. In reality this “unchaperoned” sibling time isn’t going to kill them.

The boys have a fabulous time inventing games together, running through the house screaming, and dressing up as superheroes. I’m sure that within the next 12 months the Princess is going to be right there with them.

Over the past 2.5 years I’ve learned a very important lesson, while it is good for me to get down and play with my sweet kids, it is ok if they play together without me.

It is ok if they are a little bit bored and have to run their own games, it is ok if they are a little bit frustrated with each other and have to work out their own conflicts, it is ok if some of the games they pick aren’t what I would have chosen.

Encouraging them (ok forcing) them to play together has taught them conflict resolution skills, stretched their imaginations, and brought them closer together than any game or activity I plan ever could.

I’m going to try and let go of the guilt. I’m going to try and change the narrative in my head from “I’m ruining their lives because I am so tired of legos” to “Isn’t it great that they have a built in friend?”

I am going to try and adjust my view from playmate to observer, and you know what?

We are all going to live and be better off for it, and if not, at least they can bond over what a terrible job I’ve done as a parent.