I Love My Child, But I Hate Playing

Am I a Bad Mom?

There's a quiet moment that doesn't make it into the baby books. It's the one where you're sitting cross-legged on the rug, toys strewn everywhere, a tiny plastic tea cup in one hand, and your child staring at you with expectant eyes. "You be the pony now," they say, and something in your chest tightens. You smile, because you love them with your entire being—but something inside you is also wilting. You're bored. You're overstimulated. You're pretending to enjoy yourself... and deep down, you're afraid this means you're failing.

This isn't the kind of struggle we often talk about in parenting spaces. There are entire chapters in books about sleep regressions and picky eaters, but very few about how hard it can feel to engage in play—real, messy, imaginative play—especially when you're tired, touched-out, or just not wired that way. Many moms carry this guilt quietly, whispering in their own minds: "What kind of mother hates playing with her own child?" But here's what I want you to know, from one heart to another: you're not a bad mom. You're a human mom. And you're not the only one feeling this way.

The Honest Truth About Play: It's Not Always Fun

We've been sold a beautiful lie. One where motherhood looks like cozy tea parties, finger painting under twinkle lights, and joyful shrieks from the floor as you turn yourself into a jungle gym. While those moments can be real, they're not all of it—and they're certainly not every day.

The truth is, pretend play can feel repetitive, mind-numbing, and emotionally draining—especially when you're also juggling the mental load of daily life. Building a block tower over and over again while trying to remember if you paid the gas bill? Not exactly restorative. There's a mismatch happening between your adult brain—wired for productivity, problem-solving, and intellectual stimulation—and the wide-eyed, imaginative chaos of toddler play.

And that mismatch doesn't mean you're disconnected. It means your brain is functioning just as it should for an adult in survival mode. Loving your child and not loving pretend play are not mutually exclusive truths.

Why It's So Hard—Especially for Mothers

Play, by nature, asks us to be fully present. But being present requires capacity—mental, emotional, and physical. And when moms are running on fumes, "just play with them" becomes one more impossible task on the never-ending to-do list.

Let's also name what's rarely said aloud: this pressure to play often lands squarely on mothers. Dads who opt for backyard soccer or skip out on tea parties aren't vilified. But moms are often expected to be our kids' first and favorite playmate, teacher, emotional coach, snack maker, and snuggler—all rolled into one. That expectation is not only unrealistic, it's deeply unfair.

You're not failing at motherhood. You're bumping up against the invisible workload that modern moms carry—and it's heavy.

Real Talk: You're Not the Only One Who Feels This Way

I've coached and walked alongside hundreds of women—thoughtful, nurturing, deeply present mothers—who confess this very struggle. One mom told me, "I can give my daughter my entire heart, but the second she pulls out the dress-up box, I want to run." Another whispered through tears, "I thought something was wrong with me. I'd rather clean the bathroom than play dolls."

These aren't cold or disconnected women. These are loving moms, showing up every day in big and small ways. They're tucking their kids in with soft words. They're watching closely during big feelings. They're planning birthday parties, researching preschools, cooking with care. But because they don't enjoy the pretend games, they question their worth. That's the ache I want to soothe. You're doing far more than you realize.

The Myth That "Good Moms Love Every Part"

Motherhood is not an all-or-nothing game. You don't need to enjoy every single task to be good at it. You don't need to feel joy in every moment to prove your love. We've absorbed this cultural idea that love is proven through constant sacrifice and self-abandonment—but that belief is quietly burning mothers out.

Let's flip the script: a good mom is not defined by how well she plays pretend. A good mom is present where she can be. She knows her limits. She seeks connection that's honest, not forced. And most importantly—she keeps showing up.

What Love Looks Like Beyond the Playroom

Let's remind ourselves: love has many expressions.

• It's making grilled cheese cut into dinosaur shapes because you know they'll eat it
• It's pulling them close when they're inconsolable, even if you don't have the answers
• It's researching nightlight projectors so they can fall asleep without fear
• It's standing in line at Target for that one toy they've been dreaming about
• It's saying no to one more game of "restaurant" because you need five minutes of quiet—and modeling healthy boundaries in the process

Children feel our love in consistency, safety, and warmth—not just in how long we pretend to be a dragon.

What You Can Say (Instead of Just Faking It)

You don't have to be everything to your child. You just have to be real. Here are a few scripts that keep connection open while honoring your limits:

"I'll play with you for ten minutes, then I'm going to read my book while you keep playing."

"That game looks so fun! I'm going to sit and watch while you show me how it works."

"Let's pick a game we both enjoy. How about puzzles or music time?"

"I love spending time with you. I don't love pretend tea parties, but I'm happy to color or build something together."

Boundaries with love = safety with trust.

Other Beautiful Ways to Connect (That Aren't Pretend Play)

You might find deeper joy in other forms of connection. Here are a few soul-filling alternatives:

• Nature walks: Observe bugs, pick wildflowers, talk about clouds
• Kitchen time: Let them "help" with dinner (real tasks = real pride)
• Reading together: Chapter books, interactive stories, even graphic novels
• Dancing it out: Music, movement, laughter—no script required
• Mindfulness moments: Breathing, yoga poses, body scans
• Storytelling circles: Start a story and let them add the next sentence

Play doesn't have to be noisy, imaginative, or performance-based to be magical.

Breathe This In With Me

Let's take a breath together, right now. In through the nose, slow and steady. Out through the mouth, grounded and soft.

Inhale: "I am showing up in love."

Exhale: "I don't have to enjoy every moment to be a good mom."

Your love is not measured in tea parties. It's measured in safety, stability, and attunement. That counts. It all counts.

🌿 Grounded Takeaway

If you're quietly dreading another round of make-believe, don't question your love—trust it. Your child doesn't need a perfect playmate. They need you, present and honest, in the ways you're able to give.

You're not failing. You're mothering with awareness.

And that… is more than enough.