The other day, I posted an article about video games, and the amount of learning that comes from them. (The article is here.) The comments were fairly predictable, ranging from “Right on!” to “No way. That’s ridiculous.” to “Glad it works for your kids; it’d never work for mine.” The ones that most interested me though were the ones that said something along the lines of, “Kids need to play outside/get fresh air/read books/use their imaginations/etc”

I used to think that way. In fact, I used to have black and white thinking about a lot of things. And then I discovered how very, very much I was missing out on because of it. The world is not black and white. The world is not either/or. It’s a million shades of grey and a million shades of technicolor.

You don’t have to choose between playing video games and playing outside. They are not mutually exclusive.

At the time of this writing, my kids range in age from 11 to 22. They all love their video games, and are welcome to play them as often as they’d like. They also love music, and being outdoors, and swimming, and hanging out with friends, and reading, and researching. None is more valuable than the other. They are options, all there for the taking. Just a couple of days ago, the two middle boys had friends over, and the group played board games and card games and hung out and chatted for nearly 11 hours straight.

You can love video games AND love spending time with your friends.

You can eat the salad AND eat the chocolate chip cookies.

You can hike the mountain AND snuggle down on the couch.

You can watch the movie AND read the book.

You can be honest AND kind.

You can be angry AND forgiving.

I think we get stuck in these black and white ruts and don’t realize that more often than not, there are options. There are “ands”. And yes, absolutely, sometimes there’s not a choice. Sometimes life throws us curve balls. Sometimes we have to do things we don’t love. That much is true. But what a gift we give ourselves and our kids when we find the “ands!” One of the reasons I chose to homeschool (and particularly unschool) was precisely because I wanted my kids to have as many choices as I could give them. I wanted to make their worlds larger. It makes me sad to see homeschooled children whose lives have been made smaller, not the other way around.

I want my kids to do what makes them happy in the moment. I want them to know that they can play the video game and read the book and hang out with their friends and play the instrument and go outside and sit and think and ponder and putter just….. BE.

And likewise, I can go to school, and take care of the house, and write, and plan a conference, AND be an engaged, present mother. And when I feel one slipping? It’s time to readjust, that’s all. I’ll admit it, it’s easy for me to jump straight into the black and white thinking of, “That’s it, I’ve failed at everything, I might as well stop trying.” That’s often my first thought if I’m being honest. But someone once told me that our first thought – especially if it’s a negative one – is usually wrong. And in this case it’s true. I have choices. I have “ands.” I can adjust. I can decide. And if that means making big and/or scary changes? That’s okay too.

There are choices. There are ands.

I’m not afraid of my kids playing video games any more than I’m afraid of them reading a book. If they play games all day one day? Cool. If they read all day one day? Cool. I don’t worry, because my kids don’t have the baggage that I’ve had to overcome. They don’t have the all-or-nothing thinking that makes us desperately, obsessively (and unhealthily) cling to one choice over another.

They know there are ands. And they use them.