Sophie Pierce

Writer and Broadcaster

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Children don’t worry about the social niceties of playing together, but their parents do, says Sophie Pierce

 

For most stay-at-home parents, the playgroup is part of the weekly routine.  Groups for the under-fives and their parents come in all shapes and sizes.  In the small town where I live, we have “Bumps and babes” for pregnant women and those with small babies, “Munchkins” for pre-school children, complete with a baked potato lunch, and the ”Family workshop” which provides craft activities for parents and children.  And I haven’t even mentioned “Heuristic play or treasure baskets”.

 

It’s great to have such a range of places to go and things to do with young children. The Government’s Sure Start programme, which has been running for five years, has encouraged the proliferation of new facilities for parents and children.  In Torbay in south Devon, for example, the Sure Start group even has a beach hut for families to use. There is a quid pro quo, though.  Adults must abide by the playgroup etiquette.

 

Socialising with the other parents and carers is de rigeur; it would be very bad form to read a newspaper.  Nobody tells you socialising is what you must do – it is an expectation, an unwritten rule.  Many parents would much prefer to unwind for an hour by reading a book while Junior gets on with the business of learning to socialise. Most adults are well able to mix already, thank you.

 

This is not part of the deal, however, because playgroups are not just for children, they’re also for grownups. Many parents with young children suddenly find themselves very lonely.  They’ve probably been working full-time and haven’t needed friends in the way they do now.  Playgroups are a way of making contact with others in the same position – though of course there’s no guarantee you’ll get on when the only thing you have in common is that you have children.

 

I have two small boys and have made one really good friend though going to playgroups.  But even if you make just one friend in hundreds of attendances, that person may become a friend for life.  You also have the added dimension to your friendship of seeing your children growing up together.

Nevertheless, the social code of the playgroup does amuse me.  I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve asked a fellow mother how old her child is, commented on how sleep-deprived her little darling must be when he’s busy screaming and terrorising the other children, and chatted inanely about the relative benefits of packed lunches versus school dinners.

 

The trouble is, if you don’t naturally hit it off with someone (and let’s face it, you’re not going to with most people you happen to meet at a playgroup) there are soon going to be awkward silences.  After all, for how long can you talk about children?

 

Chit-chat aside, playgroup etiquette becomes somewhat strained when, inevitably, the children don’t follow the parents’ polite little code. It all goes slightly pear-shaped when little Johnny decides to push little Jimmy’s head hard into the seat of the ride-on car. The parent whose child is doing the terrorising is permitted to issue a mild telling off. Losing your rag – indeed raising your voice - is most definitely taboo. This is followed by a profuse apology and excuses (usually citing the child’s tiredness) to the victim’s parent, who naturally makes light of the whole thing. 

 

Of course most of us are civilised creatures, which is why we have a social code – even at playgroup.  There is also a sense of parental obligation though.  Mothers and fathers feel they must be sociable because these playgroups are laid on and they feel duty bound to participate, to give something back. We must be grateful musn’t we?  Being selfish and taking time out for an hour with a book while your child plays – well that just wouldn’t be the done thing would it?