My 20-month-old is crying for the all-metal Cowboy Gun that his older brothers are wielding. They pull the trigger, and a satisfying metal clunk echoes through the room. They aim it at imaginary villains, at the walls, and at one another, all while sporting a cheap holster. Five years ago, I would have never allowed this. I was staunchly anti-gun, convinced that even toy firearms were inherently dangerous. I believed that handguns should be banned and that play weapons would lead my children to think guns were acceptable. I was determined to keep my kids away from anything resembling a firearm.
The shift began with Star Wars. My husband introduced the iconic franchise to our eldest when he was three, and suddenly, “blasters” became a thing. With no blaster in hand, he resorted to building them out of Duplos, turning our home into a makeshift armory. He’d carry these creations around, and they ended up scattered everywhere. Outside, he found sticks and would point them at people, making instinctual space-gun noises: “Pew, pew, pew.” Some stick blasters were small, some large, but he always wanted to keep them close, smuggling them into the car and stashing them in his seat.
It dawned on me that this was a battle I couldn’t win. If I kept taking the “blasters” away, he’d just make them with his fingers. I decided to allow him to play with “blasters,” careful to emphasize that they shouldn’t be pointed at real people, only at imaginary villains. My best friend, Rachel, and I even enforced this rule during playdates, reminding our boys continuously that “we don’t point blasters at people.”
Despite our best intentions, it was clear that the boys were still pointing imaginary guns at each other when we weren’t watching. We often repeated, “No guns pointed at people!” but gradually, we began to accept the reality of their play. The boys were creating guns out of anything they could find—Duplos, sticks, even toys—but at least they were still engaging in imaginative play.
Eventually, I found myself purchasing an actual toy blaster for my son. It was cute, round, and had a real trigger that made space gun sounds and lit up. He cherished it above all his toys. Once that door was opened, toy blasters multiplied like unwanted sequels to a mediocre movie. My oldest was almost five, and soon his younger brother, aged three, wanted his own blaster. Soon, they were eager for water guns too, all while their pretend play revolved around shooting at each other and imaginary foes.
I stood firm against anything that looked like a real weapon. I was determined that nothing realistic would find its way into our home. That was until my three-year-old earned a reward for using the potty. We were in the local Country Store when he spotted a cowboy cap gun. I had initially envisioned a more expensive dinosaur toy from Target, but he was so excited that I let him carry the gun to the register. He opened it in the car, and just like that, we had a genuine toy gun in our house.
I still feel mixed about it. I don’t particularly enjoy the gunplay, but I recognize that they mostly target imaginary villains. We’ve had discussions about what to do if they ever find a real gun. I still advocate for stricter gun control, but I’ve come to realize that parenting doesn’t always align with my political views. Sometimes, we have to let go a little, which means accepting that our kids will be shooting at each other with their toys—and that’s perfectly fine.
For more insights on navigating parenthood, check out this excellent resource on pregnancy and home insemination. You can also find valuable information on this site about home insemination kits. If you’re interested in our terms, you can read more about it here.
Summary:
In this candid reflection, Hannah Mitchell shares her evolution from a staunch anti-gun parent to one who embraces her children’s imaginative play with toy guns. Through anecdotes about her sons and their journey into the world of “blasters,” she illustrates the complexities of parenting and the occasional necessity of compromising one’s ideals. Despite her concerns, she recognizes that her children primarily engage in pretend play, allowing for a balance between her values and their innocent exploration.