As my kids return to school, I have been reflecting on my own childhood and the Canadian Paediatric Society’s recent recommendations around risky play. In a statement, the organization wrote: “Free play is essential for the physical, mental, and social development of children, but opportunities for unstructured outdoor play have declined in recent years – in part due to a focus on making playtime as safe as possible.”
But what is “risky play,” and why does it sound just a little bit terrifying as a parent of young kids?
These recent recommendations have me re-thinking what risky play can look like for our little ones.
According to the Canadian Paediatric Society, “risky play” can look different for each child depending on their individual skills, abilities, and confidence. It is defined as “any thrilling and exciting free play that involves uncertain outcomes and the possibility of physical injury.” An example would be playing at a height or moving at high speeds, or using objects like a hammer. Studies have shown that risky play can improve physical, mental, and social health, and also help prevent or manage health conditions like obesity, anxiety, and behavioral issues. It also helps children learn to recognize and evaluate challenges, which can help them develop confidence in their decisions and abilities.
So while the benefits of risky play are clear, if I am being honest with myself, I have to admit that I can be a bit of a helicopter parent. Yes, I am that mother at the park who tells her kids to slow down when they are scootering downhill and the one who holds her breath when she sees them climbing at heights. The truth is, as a healthcare provider, I have witnessed firsthand the other side of risky play. I’ve seen the injuries and the broken bones; as a result, I have become quite fearful of my own children getting hurt.
But, these recent recommendations have me re-thinking what risky play can look like for our little ones — and how it can actually benefit their health and well-being.
Something that’s really important to note is that risky play does not involve ignoring safety measures. As the Paediatric Society stipulates, children should not be left unattended in hazardous areas, or pushed to take risks outside their comfort levels. As parents and caregivers, it’s our job to be continuously aware of hazards and be ready to intervene if a child’s play becomes dangerous to themselves or others.
After reading the recent recommendations — and trying to find a balance in the way I approach risky play with my own children — I’ve found it helpful to reflect on my own childhood and the many hours I spent outdoors building forts, using sticks to pretend sword fight with my brother, and even rollerblading down hills. In fact, some of my most treasured memories are from those days when I learned to test my own boundaries. These are the moments where I found my confidence, learned my limits, and gained trust in my own abilities.
I am once again stepping outside my comfort zone, just as I did in my own childhood.
Of course, I want this for my own children — but the truth is, we grew up in a very different world to our kids. As parents, we are more fearful than before, and are hesitant to allow our children to participate in the very same activities that made us resilient.
So, this has got me thinking, and I have discovered that by allowing my kids to take (safely managed) risks, I am once again stepping outside my comfort zone, just as I did in my own childhood.
By allowing my kids to test their own boundaries, I have seen them not only improve their physical skills, but also their ability to think critically. One example is in their recent interest in pretending to be Star Wars characters. They love having “battles” with plastic lightsabers, which used to really bring out my inner helicopter parent. I’d warn them of the dangers and discourage these play fights. But recently, I’ve just observed. As expected, one of them hit the other in the head and there were lots of tears. But this didn’t put them off, and instead of banning this play completely, we took the opportunity to learn from it. Next time they were playing Star Wars, we simply had some safety rules in place like no hitting above the chest. This was all a result of them reflecting on their previous experience (with a little guidance from me).
Even though I’ve relaxed a little, I can still feel my heart beating rapidly in my chest when I see my kids climbing trees in the backyard, or when they’re zooming around at high speeds on their bikes. I don’t think that feeling will ever go away. We’re hard-wired to want to minimize risks for our children. But, in these moments, I remind myself that they are learning to test their own boundaries, just as I did as a child. I still stand nearby ready to intervene if they need me, but I am consciously allowing them to learn how to assess risks for themselves — a critical life skill I know will serve them well for many years to come.
As my children take risks, I do too – and while at times it is scary, it really is such a joy to be learning alongside them.
Stephanie Liu, MD, is a family physician who delivers evidence-based health information for moms and little ones. After the birth of her first child, she launched her blog, Life of Dr. Mom, to debunk scientific misinformation. Dr. Liu, aka Dr. Mom, became known as a relatable and credible source on topics ranging from infant nutrition to postpartum depression. Stephanie is a PS Council member.