Despatches from a mother who started late (and is running to catch up)

Softly, softly

It's hard to resist the siren lure of 'soft play' centres when you are the parent of an under-three. They offer cheap and accessible entertainment. They tire your child out. Thus ensuring he or she will sleep well later that evening. Unlike real parks, there are no dogs. They sell skinny decaff lattes. You can go even when it's raining. What's to argue with? But, not being a big fan of a) communal playgrounds b) grubby PVC c) foam wadding d) crowds of other children (too potentially scary) or e) primary colours, I held out for some time against these places. Plus, from what I'd seen of toddlers 'interacting' (big infant buzz word) with each other, I suspected the play might not be all that 'soft'. However, last week I - finally - became a convert to these pre-schooler Meccas. A friend persuaded me and my two daughters to join her and her child at this Edinburgh variant on the theme. For the modest sum of £3, elder daughter was able to clamber at will for an hour around ramps, tunnels, netting, steps and mock fairy castle, grinning her delight at me as she did so. It was nice to feel I was doing something right after a disappointing trip involving fish that I posted about the other week. Parents are not only discouraged at this particular soft play place from staying with their children in the play area, they are forbidden from doing so. I had expected the hands-off approach to be difficult. In practice, it was liberating. And daughter's enjoyment appeared in no way diminished for not having me fussing round her. This rule has the benefit that it left her younger sister Button and I free to sit at the tables adjacent to the play area, watching as Beanie giggled, scrambled and raced around the rigging. I have tried soft play once before, at this place, where I was forced to crouch next to something called a 'ball pit' (exactly what the description says, no more, no less) while breastfeeding Button, with cracked nipples, and attempting to preserve a fragile facade of competence and good humour as I prevented an older child (whose mother would have had little trouble securing employment as a barge woman) from pushing Beanie down some steps. A wretched experience. It also had the disadvantage that its clientele could - theoretically at least - escape from their carers at any time if you weren't sufficiently vigilant (it's probably no coincidence that when I say 'vigilant' I'm borrowing a word more commonly used in the vocabulary of people who fight against terrorism). Whereas last week's place had a gate and security system that meant it felt safe to relax, enjoy one of the above-mentioned lattes and let Beanie get on with it. My friend, who is savvier in these matters than me, took a look round when we arrived and said: "Good. No trouble-makers today." So, obviously, as her comment implies, there can be difficulties, but we didn't experience any last week. If it wasn't for being stuck at home for so many months, semi-immobile with pelvic joint pain in pregnancy, we'd probably be fully signed-up fans of soft play by now. Give us a few more months, and we doubtless will have put that right.

Posted 23 March 2009 23:42

Activities Edinburgh Missing sanity Pelvic girdle pain/SPD

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