I hear a gentle thud followed by a burst of laughter, quickly followed by another thump and the unmistakable sounds of little feet tumbling over one another. “Quit sitting on me!” shouts the 6-year-old, while the 4-year-old erupts into giggles. Another thud reverberates through the house.
Ah, yes, the kids are at it again—wrestling with each other, and you know what? I’m okay with it.
I’ve got three rambunctious boys, and my partner is the ultimate roughhousing dad. He’s the type who swings the kids upside down and encourages them to create an “alligator stack” on his back—one atop the other, based on age. He tickles, tackles, and even does this wacky “sloth” thing where they cling to his arm like little monkeys while he spins them around.
I’m not as adventurous in that department, but I’m all about the hugs and cuddles. There’s always a little one trying to snuggle into my lap, and the 4-year-old is often on my hip. They squabble for space beside me on the couch, and even my oldest holds my hand when we’re out, whether it’s at Target or just strolling down the sidewalk. We’re a touchy-feely clan.
Thanks to my husband’s roughhousing, it’s only natural that the kids engage in their own playful tussles. What starts as a cozy game under the blankets often escalates into playful punches. They roll around, sit on each other, and occasionally sleep curled up like kittens. Sure, one of them might let out a yelp now and then, but they know how to play safe. They respect each other’s boundaries—keeping away from face hits and bites.
I let them roughhouse because I believe it’s beneficial for their development. Research shows that physical touch releases oxytocin, which fosters social behavior, trust, and empathy. According to Psych Central, it even helps alleviate anxiety. Plus, in their book, The Art of Roughhousing and Why Kids Need It, authors Anthony T. DeBenedet, M.D., and Lawrence J. Cohen argue that roughhousing contributes to cognitive development, emotional awareness, and moral growth—all solid reasons to let kids play rough.
My boys can instinctively pick up on which friends are game for roughhousing and which ones prefer to keep their hands to themselves. They have a buddy whose family doesn’t engage in physical play, and my kids know not to wrestle with them. Conversely, my eldest has a friend who loves to grapple just as much as my boys do. A misunderstanding once led to his mom thinking a typical wrestling match was something serious, but it was just playful fun with life jackets on!
In today’s world, this might seem unorthodox parenting. With the rise of helicopter parenting, any two kids tumbling around appears dangerous. Parents often see injuries as a direct result of roughhousing, leading them to blame themselves for allowing it. Consequently, roughhousing gets labeled as something only “bad” kids do, while “good” parents enforce strict rules about keeping hands to themselves.
So, when I see disapproving glances at the playground as my kids throw themselves into a game of tackle or sword-fighting with sticks, I just smile. Those judging eyes don’t realize that I don’t condone wrestling born out of anger. If tempers flare over a toy or if someone gets hurt, I step in. We have strict rules: wrestling must be consensual and fun. If it turns into a fight, that’s another story.
So long as both parties are on board, let the helicopter parents scoff—my kids will wrestle, roughhouse, and engage in playful brawls to their hearts’ content. And honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
For more on the benefits of roughhousing and parenting advice, check out our other blog post about parenting guidelines here, and if you’re navigating the world of family planning, Make A Mom is a great resource for your journey. Another excellent resource for pregnancy and home insemination information can be found here.
Summary
In this light-hearted take on parenting, Jenna Carver shares her experience with her three boys who love to roughhouse. Emphasizing the developmental benefits of physical play and the importance of consent in roughhousing, she challenges the norms of helicopter parenting while embracing the joy and bonding that comes from playful wrestling.