Published 7/6/26

I have the most hideous play house in my backyard.

It used to be part of an elaborate Christmas display in my Grinch-loving friend’s yard. She gave it to me last year, and I had every intention of sand-blasting that thing and repainting it. I still haven’t done it.

Alongside it sits a faded kids’ picnic table, a patched-up bouncy house, and more sidewalk chalk stubs than can fit back into their original container. There’s a tub overflowing with various bubble makers, and another full of random balls and sandbox tools. Throw in the inflatable pool full of water (and whatever was thrown in there last) and a plastic pool-turned-sandbox… it’s a ragtag mess of cheap and passed-along toys that await my grandkids when they visit. 

I live in a neighborhood where people have sparkling inground pools, elaborate play structures, and expansive houses surrounded by privacy fences. Sometimes I’m glad my neighbors can’t see my backyard playground because it’s quite an eyesore.

Accept the Hot Mess

When my grandkids are here, it’s even worse. The chalk stubs are strewn from the patio to the garage along every inch of sidewalk. Lopsided and faded, the patched up bounce house is standing as proudly as it can. My yard is dotted with adult yard games being used entirely inappropriately: cornhole with plastic baseballs, giant Jenga blocks in odd configurations completely covered in chalk marks, frisbees transporting sand from the sandbox to the pool. 

When I survey the situation, it looks like a hot mess. But when my grandkids look at it, it’s a wonderland.

For less than $50, this wonky collection of toys provides an entire day’s worth of entertainment. I can choose to be right in the mix with them—having a picnic, making sand creatures, or playing baseball-cornhole—or I can sit on the patio watching them explore and play together. And that’s probably the most important part: the moments where I back off and let their imaginations run wild. 

Embracing the 80s Childhood Freedom

When I was growing up, it would’ve been weirder than weird if my grandma was outside playing with us. No judgment on her; the lady was in the house cooking for 20-30 people every time she had visitors!

In true 80s-kid fashion, my cousins and I ran wild on my grandparent’s 40-acre property in Yale, having all kinds of self-created adventures. We rode mini-motorcycles, swam in the pond, and explored the woods—all unsupervised and all left to our own devices, even when something went wrong. We had some accidents and learned our limits, but thankfully, we all emerged from childhood alive and unbroken, just a few scars and some great stories. 

I didn’t raise my kids with quite the same level of freedom (I preferred to be shoreside when my kids were in water), but I did leave them alone outside for hours every day, especially in the summer. Now that I’m a grandma, I find myself easily repeating that style with my grandkids, ushering them into the backyard as quickly as I can walk away from any inside duties. Even though they are young (ages 1, 2, 3, and 4), we’ll stay in our backyard haven for hours. 

While I enjoy playing alongside them, I intentionally try to step away and leave them alone as much as possible. While the three toddlers are making up games and creating imaginative messes, I sit on a blanket with my crawler and haul him closer to me whenever he gets too far away. That proximity grows every time I see him because he’s already becoming confident in his own abilities, pulling himself back to base camp when he feels the need. 

Exploring Our Local Parks and Beaches

Beyond the backyard, we’re also huge fans of the amazing parks in our area. There’s one in almost every neighborhood in the city, and the township and county parks get better every year. I’ve wagoned my grandson down to Baker’s Field, and even though there isn’t a play structure there, he enjoys being pulled around the bike path, running as fast as he can through the open fields, and playing with his Woody doll on the bike racks (apparently those are roller coasters when you have an imagination). 

When my kids were little, we would pack a lunch and eat it inside the castle-like play structures at the Imagination Station in St. Clair or Lakeside Beach. Now, we’re packing lunches and heading to one of the public ponds on Parker Road in Ft. Gratiot or 40th Street in Port Huron Township for fishing and kayaking. I’ve spent whole days at the beaches in Lexington and Lakeport with my kids, and I am thrilled to be repeating that tradition with my grandkids.

It’s undeniable that it’s physically taxing to haul kids, gear, food, and drink out of the house and set up somewhere outside. The reward, however, is entirely worth the mountain of laundry, multiple applications of sunscreen, and occasional meltdown from an overtired toddler. Parenting is hard no matter what you do, so I learned early on that choosing a “fun-hard” was more enjoyable than a “boring-hard.”

The Magic of Outdoor Play

There are countless studies that confirm this is the ideal way to spend time with children. In fact, it’s probably also proven to be the ideal way to spend time with teens, other adults, and ourselves. Outdoor play, no matter how simple, nourishes us at a cellular level. It wakes us up in the tiniest parts of ourselves, and that alertness makes everything else better. Cognition, mood, and sleep are all positively affected. I think it’s God’s way of giving us all a happy chill pill. 

It’s summer in Port Huron, friends. We live in a place with parks and beaches galore. Our access to the outdoors is only limited by our conviction of its value and our ambition to participate. The cost to set up your own backyard creativity station is minimal, and there are multiple beautiful choices within a short driving distance to get out of the house. If all else fails and the weather is garbage, we also have our fantastic St. Clair County Community Library System. Truly, that’s all anyone needs to have a perfect, old-school 80s summer in Michigan’s Thumbcoast.

Story by Jessie Wiegand for BlueWaterParent.com.