What solitaire has taught me about life (and parenting) during a hard time
Between September and January, I lost the three most significant women in my life—my mother, my mother-in-law, and my grandmother..
And in the fog of grief, I found myself doom-scrolling—puppy videos, baby reels, Say Yes to the Dress marathons. It was all my brain could handle.
But in the last few, I picked up a deck of cards.
Not an app. Not a screen. An actual, physical deck of cards.
And I started playing solitaire.
Here's what it's teaching me:
Sometimes you get dealt a good hand. You solve it. You win. It feels great.
Sometimes you get a bad hand. You can stare at those cards for hours, but there's nothing you can do. You have no choice but to accept it and move on.
Sometimes you make moves that block you—or end the game entirely. You realize too late. You have to start over.
And sometimes, a serendipitous solve occurs. The solution appears effortlessly, almost like magic.
But most importantly: Sometimes you miss the solution entirely—not because it isn't there, but because you're not looking at things in a way that's helpful.
The real lesson?
You've got to play the hand you're dealt.
And right now, my hand includes grief, exhaustion, and very little capacity for the "shoulds" of life.
But what I'm finding is this: it's the real-world, hands-on, tactile activities that are bringing me comfort and healing.
Solitaire. Yahtzee with my husband (something I used to play with my mum and nan). Jigsaw puzzles. Books that have been sitting on my shelf. Craft projects.
Things that get me off my phone. Things that reconnect me with what brought me joy as a child.
And here's what I'm learning as a parent:
When you're struggling—when you have nothing left in the tank—reach for the activities you enjoyed as a child.
Make them quick. Make them simple. Don't overthink it.
Just see if it shifts the mood. See if it creates a small moment of connection with your loved ones.
Because connection isn't automatic. It's learned. Practiced. Built.
Sometimes through big, intentional moments.
But more often? Through small, simple ones.
Like sitting on the floor with a deck of cards.
If you're in a season where everything feels heavy, I see you.
You're not failing. You're playing the hand you've been dealt.
And sometimes, that's enough.
Kylie Toynton | Founder, Unplugged Play
Paediatric Speech Pathologist | Helping families reconnect through screen-free play
P.S. This is why Unplugged Play exists—to give families simple, ready-to-go tools for connection when you don't have the energy to figure it out yourself. Because sometimes, you just need someone to hand you the deck of cards.
