• When our first child was born, we decided I would stay home, caring for our baby.
• I had a thriving career, but my pay was low, and childcare was expensive.
• I love being a mom, but staying at home made me miserable.

When I became pregnant with my first child, my husband and I made the difficult yet practical decision for me to stay home.

Even though I had a thriving career in higher ed, my income was low, childcare was expensive, and travel (a requirement of my job) wouldn't be feasible anymore — or at least for years to come.

With a few cuts to our household budget, it just made sense for me to stay home. Besides, motherhood would be the most rewarding experience of my life, right?

I was lonelier than ever

When our first baby was born, I was so in love with him and elated to finally have what I wanted most: to be a mom. In those first weeks, I felt strongly that I would love my new role as a stay-at-home mom and couldn't imagine going back to work. However, after my husband's paternity leave ended and he returned to work, I was home alone with the baby, and reality set in.

I was sleep deprived, exhausted from exclusively nursing, and lonelier than I had ever been. I was jealous of my friends who were still working and could get away to do something other than care for a baby. Desperate for connection, I joined several baby and me classes through my local parks and rec, hoping to make a few friends navigating the same challenges.

The moms I met were kind, but our conversations revolved around our children's sleeping and eating schedules and how we were dealing with our toddlers' tantrums. Somewhere along the way, my interests and identity faded away. I needed more intellectual stimulation, I wanted to do more to connect with the community, and I wanted to use my talents outside of the home.

Staying home wasn't for me

As months turned into years, I felt increasingly isolated. I hired a babysitter once a week in the afternoon so I could escape the monotony of child rearing. One of these afternoons, I remember going to the movies alone and sobbing through "La La Land," not because of the storyline but because it reminded me of what it felt like to be alive and have a sense of self outside motherhood.

When I finally summoned the courage to talk to my stay-at-home-mom friends about my feelings, it felt as if I was violating an unspoken rule. Shouldn't I be grateful for this opportunity to bond with my child without the stress of a career? Wasn't it a privilege to be there for all of my child's milestones?

In fact, I knew how blessed I was to be able to stay home with my children, but I still felt so depressed. Five years of staying home and two babies later, it wasn't until I returned to work with a purpose outside the home that I truly felt like myself again.

I truly love being a mom, but I recognize that staying at home is not my strength. Working outside of the home in the community makes me a better mom, more present, patient, and fulfilled.

Stay-at-home motherhood isn't for everyone, and that's OK. We need to allow mothers to speak honestly about the complexities of raising children, including the very real feelings of isolation, loss of identity, and emotional debility that often come with motherhood.

• My kids and our neighbors' kids play outside every afternoon.
• Watching them engage in unstructured play reminds me of my childhood in the 90s.
• They are not only having fun, but also growing and learning.

In a time when screens dominate children's attention, I couldn't be happier that my kids have found a different way to spend their days — playing outside with our next-door neighbors nearly every afternoon.

Watching them run around in our front yards reminds me of my own childhood in the '90s, filled with rollerskates, scraped knees, and endless imagination.

Our front yard has truly become a hub of childhood fun. Almost every day, you will see at least five kids running around outside on our street — two boys and three girls — ages 4, 5, 7, 7, and 8. Most afternoons are spent roller skating, scooting on scooters, playing hide-and-seek, throwing a ball, and just getting old, good, and dirty.

There's something magical about watching them engage in simple, unstructured play.

They are learning to resolve conflicts without adults

Recently, the kids discovered a neighborhood cat and immediately took it upon themselves to care for it. They brought the cat water, laid out a blanket, and even built a little enclosed area using a baseball net and soccer net to make the cat feel at home. They asked us to contact neighbors to see who the cat belonged to so it could go home to its rightful owner after they were done nurturing the kitty. Their kindness and teamwork in this small act demonstrated the values they are learning through play — empathy, problem-solving, and cooperation.

One of the most inspiring aspects of their playtime is how they resolve conflicts over what to do. With five unique personalities, disagreements naturally arise. One child may want to host a frontyard fashion show, while another prefers a game of catch. These differences sometimes lead to arguments among the children; however, these disagreements help them learn to take turns, make compromises, and give everyone an opportunity to enjoy their preferred activity.

Their ability to negotiate and collaborate without adult intervention (most of the time) is a testament to the social skills they are developing through these outdoor adventures.

They get limited and monitored screen time

On spring 2024, my husband, my two next-door neighbors, and I began having organic conversations about parenting and technology on our front lawns. Already noticing screen time's negative effects on our children, we all decided to read Jonathan Haidt's "The Anxious Generation: How the Great Rewiring of Childhood Is Causing an Epidemic of Mental Illness."

The book, which explores how technology has contributed to a mental health crisis among children raised on digital devices, has many great takeaways. One of the book's core messages that truly resonated with all of us is that the decline of free play and the increase in screen time have severely harmed children's social and emotional development.

As millennials, we remember being children who could play outside with neighbors with little to no adult supervision, making up games, playing tag, and generally working on our social skills with our peers. The book suggests that kids need more unsupervised play to develop independence, problem-solving skills, and social competence.

We want our kids to have the childhood we had

We all agreed that we want our children to grow up experiencing life outside, playing with neighbors the way we did — running, exploring, making mistakes, and learning to navigate conflicts together. It's about giving them the space to figure things out with one another rather than being absorbed by screens. Don't get me wrong, our children still get screen time, but it's limited and monitored.

Other neighbors often stroll by, smiling as they reminisce about a time when front-yard play was the norm. Every now and then, other neighborhood kids join in, turning our little patch of grass into a lively, impromptu playdate filled with laughter, negotiation, and the kind of childhood moments we all cherish.

In a world where children are often glued to tablets and video games, and the art of face-to-face interaction is fading, I feel incredibly fortunate that our little group of front-yard friends is embracing the kind of carefree, outdoor play that defined so many of our '90s childhoods.

Watching them play outside almost every day is a reminder that the best childhood moments are often the simplest ones.