There was a day when I would play Thomas the Train, orchestrate a major Dinosaur hunt, and race cars all over the house. I would narrate detailed stories and games, bringing my boys (mostly the oldest) into extravagant, make-believe worlds. Until it had to stop. I didn’t realize the amount of dependence/need I was promoting. I decided to stop playing with them when it hit me that I was cultivating an environment where their imagination needed my imagination, and I was tired. I’m so happy I transitioned out of lead-player and into the narrator, but it was a bit difficult. I felt so guilty saying no, then watching Benjamin struggle to know what to do with himself and his toys. The real ticker for me was knowing how much joy he got from our playtime together. He was so happy. Don’t forget to pin this! But, the reality is my…